#mr house ends up performing this on stage

[apomaro-mellow]

For Steddie Bingo how about some Regency!AU? 🎩

Steddie Bingo Prompt: Regency AU

Next to him, the lady clapped loudly. Her name might have been Mary or Mary Anne, he couldn't quite recall. There was a din of applause around him, in fact. One that he chose not to join in.

"You didn't enjoy the play?", Mary-something asked.

"Plays are not quite to my taste", Steve said.

"Don't take him so serious", Nathaniel said from the other side of her. "He's in the middle of a feud with one of the actors."

"Who?"

Steve blocked them out as Nathaniel told all of his business. His eyes were on that one certain actor, dressed and made up like Puck. His intense stare could have been mistaken for ire. It all worked in his favor. No one had any idea what he truly felt for the actor or his work.

As usual, after the show, Nathaniel had the actors back in his home. He liked the novelty. And they were natural entertainers. Even off the stage, they liked to tell jokes and sing songs and fill the house with noise late into the night. And just as every time that Steve was invited to join, he spent most of the evening, either glaring distantly or very brazenly antagonizing one man in particular.

Edward Munson was born to be on stage. He lavished in having eyes on him. Even when Steve insulted his performance in front of a crowd. Steve had a drink in his hand and was leaning against the bookshelf, watching as Edward dazzled people on the piano.

"You really enjoy being the center of attention, don't you?", Steve spoke up when the song finished.

"Ah, here comes the ever dower Mr. Harrington", Edward played a few foreboding notes on the keys.

Steve pushed off the bookshelf and stalked towards him. "I suppose I just don't find any joy watching you parade yourself."

"As opposed to being paraded on someone else's leash?"

"Perhaps you shouldn't be let out of the house at all."

"And deprive the world of my talents?" To punctuate, Edward played a more chipper tune.

"You call that talent?"

"No, Mr. Harrington. This is talent." Edward began to play a slow melody, one that changed the entire atmosphere of the room. Then he began to sing, his warm voice filling the air.

Steve wasn't surprised that he had enthralled an entire room. He wasn't surprised that Edward could change genres so easily. He'd seen him in plenty of roles by now, both comedic and tragic. The first time he'd seen him, he was bringing the crowd to tears as Juliet.

When the song ended, Steve backed off with a scoff and the night's entertainments continued. It was still going on as tonight turned into tomorrow and they were able to use the noise to hide as they ran off together in one of the rooms.

"You are an incurable bitch”, Edward said.

“Last week, I was ‘incorrigible’.” Steve set his drink, nearly empty, onto a desk in the room. “Don’t you love me anymore?”

“Incurable, incorrigible, incredible, your ability to bitch knows no bounds and it makes my desire grow for you each day.” Edward closed the distance and kissed him before pushing him onto the chaise.

“You still make very little sense to me”, Steve said as his lover climbed on top of him.

“Dealing in absurdity is an actor’s trade, my dear. But you make perfect sense to me.”

They traded no more words then. Because while he was a master orator, the stage had also taught Edward to be fluent in body language as well.

@steddiebingo

Bingo card:

[azurdlywisterious]

Curse you random cover of bad romance from punk goes pop volume six…

[c-cobweb]

𝓑e a freak like me too ⋮ jimmy darling

ᡣ𐭩 . warnings ᯓ +18 mdni!, smut, pwp, fem!virgin!reader, make out, age gap (not specified but everyone is over 18), fingering. a/n ᯓ english is not my first lenguage!

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Your life was monotonous and boring, with strict parents who only let you leave the house for college things and no little siblings to play with. Everything was like that until one day the circus of monstrosites arrived in the city, and your father decided to take you and your mother to see what show they could offer.

Excited, you dressed in a beautiful white dress with pink flowers that they gave you for your 18th birthday, you subtly made up with a pink eye shadow and a gloss on your lips, you were ready to go out.

. . .

You got out of your father’s car and looked around, both excited and scared of what could happen there.

“Come on, honey, or we’ll be late,” your mother warned you while she and your father were starting to walk towards the circus.

You ran after them until you reached them and got by their side. Once inside the circus you were amazed, everything was full of colours and lights, the typical circus music sounded in the background while children rode the attractions, you were fascinated.

You approached the entrance of the tent of the show, your father paid for the tickets and you sat in the front row to be able to see the spawns up close.

. . .

The show was halfway through and everything was spectacular, you were delighted with those people with deformities. Everything was going perfectly until Jimmy Darling, the lobster boy, appeared on stage.

You were damned with his beauty, so much so that you overlooked the deformity of his hands. He began his monologue as usual and at one point you clashed looks, making him wink and make you blush, you just wish your parents hadn’t realised.

. . .

At the end of the performance everyone got up from the seat and left the tent, including you and your family. You escaped for a moment saying that you would go to the bathroom to actually go in search of that handsome boy who had darned you with his charms.

After a couple of minutes looking for him, you found him about to enter his caravan and accelerated the pace until you reached him.

“Mr. Darling?” You said once you were behind him, touching his shoulder to get his attention. He turned confused about who was calling him until he saw you and smiled.

“Oh, you, you’re the girl in the front row, right? What’s your name?” He said and you nodded your head, telling him your name.

“I just wanted to tell you that I loved your show, it was wonderful” you smiled cheerfully as you put your hands behind your back.

“You’re such a sweetheart. No girl had come before after a performance to congratulate me,” he replied winking at you once again, making you blush and look the other way briefly.

“Well, just... just wanted to tell you that. I’m leaving now” you said goodbye with your hand and turned around to go back to your parents.

“Wait!” You heard Jimmy’s voice behind you and turned your head to look at him “Is it okay if we see each other someday?”

You were very excited when he asked you that, you were excited to be able to spend more time with him.

“Of course yes,” you replied with a wide smile.

“Perfect, is it okay if we meet in the ‘Coffee and Jhons’ cafeteria? It’s a good place to see each other” he suggested, shrugging his shoulders.

In your head you were already making a plan to be able to leave the house without your parents knowing that you were going to see a boy, much less could they know that that boy was a spawn.

“Okay, I’ll see you there tomorrow at 12 am?” You said this time with a small smile.

. . .

You had deceived your parents by saying that you were going to your friend Alice’s house to study when you were actually about to reach your meeting point with Jimmy.

Your stomach was full of butterflies, you had never lied to your parents before, much less to go see a boy. But it wasn’t just any boy, it was Jimmy Darling.

You entered the cafeteria and looked around you until you found Jimmy sitting on one of the stools at the bar, waiting for you. You approached him from behind and touched his shoulder making him turn around.

“Hello Jimmy” You greeted with a small smile, you were very nervous.

“Hi darling” He said grabbing your hand and leaving a kiss on it, to which in response your cheeks were coloured.

When he saw how you blushed, Jimmy smiled from ear to ear making his cheekbones stand out. You sat on the stool next to him and asked for a cherry coke to drink and a cupcake, while he asked for a beer.

You immediately realised the leather gloves that covered his hands, and you frowned confused. “Why are you wearing those gloves?” You asked delicately, without wanting to offend him.

“Well, as you know, I have lobster hands and many people could be scared to see them,” he replied while still smiling.

You took one of his hands and stroked it over the glove. “I’m not scared of your hands” you said as you looked him in the eyes with a soft smile, which warmed his heart.

. . .

It had already been several weeks since your secret meeting with Jimmy, and you did not stop running away from home to go see him at any time. This time he had rented a motel room just for the two of you. Were you nervous? Yes, and a lot.

You stalled through the window of your room and ran down the street where Jimmy was waiting for you with his motorcycle.

“Hello, darling,” he said when you rode behind him on the motorcycle and grabbed his waist so you didn’t fall. “Ready to go?”

The road to the motel was quiet, it was night so there were not many people on the street and you could enjoy a small walk before reaching your destination.

You entered the reception of the motel and Jimmy asked for the key to your room and then go to the elevator to go to your room.

“You look beautiful today, more than usual” He said while the elevator doors closed.

“Thank you very much,” you answered with a smile while blushing, his flirtatious comments always made you blush.

He approached you and placed one hand on your cheek and the other on your waist, curiously today he was not wearing his leather gloves. “Can I kiss you?” He asked in a whisper as he brought his face closer to yours, to which you nodded.

He kissed your lips gently, he knew it was your first kiss and didn’t want to scare you. You corresponded to the kiss, nervous but excited.

The elevator doors opened, this time leaving you on the floor of your room. Jimmy slowly separated from you, “Come on” said as he grabbed your hand and guided you to the room.

Once inside the room he closed the door and kissed you again, but this time with more passion. You opened your eyes surprised at his action, you didn’t expect such a hungry kiss after that sweet kiss he had given you minutes ago.

He guide you to the bed, making you both sit on it while you were still kissing. You followed the kiss shyly until you gained more confidence, that’s when Jimmy licked your lower lip to ask for permission and be able to put his tongue in your vocal cavity, which you agreed to.

Your tongues were dancing inside your mouths in a heated and exciting kiss. Jimmy grabbed your shoulders and gently pushed you until your back collided with the bed mattress, leaving you lying down.

His large fused hands walked through your body being careful not to touch any inappropriate place until it reached your waist, stopping there and separating slightly from the kiss. “Is everything okay?” He asked looking into your eyes to make sure you were comfortable.

“Yes Jimmy, I’m great” You confirmed with a smile as you rested one of your hands on his cheek and raised your head to kiss him again.

He reciprocated the kiss gladly and his hands moved around your body again, this time leaving them right on your thighs and putting them a little under your dress. His thumbs drew small figures on your inner thighs while his hands moved very slowly — so as not to alarm you — towards your centre.

When the tips of his fingers grazed your underwear you shuddered and separated from the kiss, looking at Jimmy a little scared.

“Shh, don’t worry, darling” He tried to reassure you as he lowered his kisses to your neck and hid his face there. “Can I?” He asked as he wrapped his fingers in the strip of your panties, to which you nodded.

He slowly lowered the garment down your legs, caressing them in the process. “Tell me, honey, have you ever touched yourself down there?” He asked by taking his face out of your neck to look into your eyes with a smile on his face.

“Yes, but only a couple of times” You replied embarrassed as you looked away from him, to which Jimmy laughed.

“It’s fine. Does it bother you if I touch you?” You bit your lower lip repressing a smile at how understanding and respectful he was.

“Yes, please touch me” You begged slightly as you looked at him again with big and bright eyes.

Jimmy did not hesitate to start caressing your clit with two of his fused fingers to prepare you, to which you covered your mouth with both hands to repress the sounds that threatened to come out of your throat.

“Oh, pretty girl, let those beautiful sounds come out, I want to hear you moan” He said without any qualms making you blush, but you listened to him and took your hands away from your face.

His fingers went from caressing your clit to surrounding your entrance, which made you let out a little gasp. “Jimmy...” you whispered as your breathing agitated.

“Are you ready?” He asked leaving a small kiss on your cheek, you nodded and he began to put his fused fingers through your entrance very delicately so as not to hurt you.

You closed your eyes and hissed slightly while your fists clung to the sheets. At first it hurt a little but then the pain was replaced by pleasure little by little.

Your back bent over and moans and more prominent sighs began to come out of your mouth, your hands clung to Jimmy’s biceps while your face contoured with pleasure. Jimmy looked at your face with a big smile, proud of himself for causing you so much pleasure with just his fingers.

His wide fingers caused you an indescribable pleasure, they widened your vaginal walls deliciously. You couldn’t stop moaning loudly, and you were surprised when his thumb began to caress your clit again.

“Jimmy... I- I think I’m going to come” That phrase made him smile even more, and he began to speed up his movements.

“I know honey, I can feel it,” he said as he began to kiss your jaw and leave a path of kisses up to your neck. “You just let yourself go, let it go”

It didn’t take you much longer to finish, moaning his name loudly and closing your eyes tightly. Jimmy laughs slightly when he took his fingers out of your intimacy and saw how wet they were, and then put them in his mouth and savour your juices.

“Jimmy! Don’t do that...” You said covering your face with both hands because of the shame.

“Why wouldn’t I do it? You are delicious” He let out a little laugh at your reaction and then lay down next to you, passing an arm behind your shoulders and curling up with you. “Now let’s rest for a while, it’s been a very trying moment... but don’t think I’m done with you” He said the latter giving you a small spanking.

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mlist , bots

 c-cobweb 2024 — all rights reserved. do not modify, repost, translate, or plagiarise my content.

[sixosix]

YOU MUST LIKE ME FOR ME | LYNEY

notes wc 3.5k, for readers keeping up with the updates as they come, it’s been a while since the last update! so for the sake of understanding this chapter, please reread the previous one !!

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You were starting to regret ever opening your mouth and letting Aether blackmail you into helping him. Maybe if you had insisted on cooking dinner and Rosalie took over the counter, none of this would’ve happened. But what’s happened has happened—and you have a feeling that you would’ve ended up here regardless because fate hated you.

Lyney emerges from the shadows, sliding into the spotlight as if he was born for it. Meant to be there in the middle of the stage with all eyes on him and nowhere else. He has his arms spread wide open, fully welcoming the elated whispers of the audience.

“Welcome, one and all, to Lyney and Lynette’s magic show!”

His voice echoes throughout the opera house, nearly drowned out by the roaring cheers that follow after. Lyney then grins, bowing with half of his body.

The way he moves across the stage—it’s hard to imagine it’s the same guy who stumbled over his steps to make you notice him. It seems like the roles have reversed. Now, the audience is watching each move with bated breath, on the edge of their seats, watching him.

“Please, let me also welcome my sister and my assistant, Lynette!”

Lynette steps onto the stage, her tail flicking at the noises. You swear you heard a kid whisper wildly to his mother that it was a part-cat human, maman! Why is Mr. Lyney not also one if they are siblings, maman?

Lyney may not have the ears and tail, but you remember the way his eyes followed you around like a cat tracking its prey, seconds away from pouncing. He resembled a cat more than Lynette at times.

“Hello,” Lynette says to the crowd and leaves it at that. The crowd loves it anyway.

Lyney grins. Something about it feels so different. He was cute as a kid, but now, with all teeth and sparkling eyes, he’s like a dream far out of reach.

“Are you okay?” Aether whispers. You almost jump out of your seat, breaking from the trance. “If you keep digging your nails in like that, you might rip the dress.”

“Ah.” You haven’t even realized. “Don’t worry about it. First-show jitters or something.”

“You’re not the one performing?”

“Or something.” you insist. Aether laughs under his breath and, thankfully, leaves it.

Back when you were at the House, Lyney could only do simple tricks. Plucking cards from his sleeves or hiding them in between his fingers. He was clumsy with making cards float, revealing doves from his hat, and producing flowers in a snap.

It seems to come from second nature for him this time. He flicks his hand, and a beautiful Lumidouce Bell materializes on his palm. Lyney throws it to the crowd; it lands by your feet.

“Wow, that was so cool!” Paimon gasps as you move to pick it up.

You remember now. This was the only flower Lyney used for his tricks, as they come in bundles when found. Often after dinner, Lyney would perform to practice for the other orphans, and it ended with a mess of these flowers scattered across the ground or left unattended by their beds after presenting it to them.

“Hold on,” Paimon says, “Is he looking at us? Did we miss something?”

Lyney is definitely looking in your direction. He has fallen silent, frowning. You start wishing that he is staring, not because he recognizes you but because you’re drop-dead gorgeous or something.

“Y/N?” Lyney says, his soft voice loud in the pin-drop silent auditorium.

Well.

“Mr. Lyney?” One of his assistants on stage asks. “What’s wrong?”

The crowd starts to murmur; then their fervent whispers grow in volume until everyone is talking loudly. Another accident? Mr. Lyney looks terrified! Aghast! Meanwhile, Lyney stays frozen in his spot; he doesn’t look like he’s breathing. It was the same look he gave you that night. Maybe his face hasn’t changed that much, after all.

“Lyney?” Lynette asks from the side of the stage, her face poking out. Then she follows his gaze, and her eyes widen as well. That’s when you knew—

“Shit,” you mutter, clutching the flower and springing up from your seat. You can’t have this happen while an audience is watching. That would totally ruin the whole point of laying low.

It was definitely not because you’re drop-dead gorgeous, but the fact that he still recognizes you has to mean something, right? Something that you don’t want to think about at the moment. You hurry to the exit, ignoring the dirty looks you get as you brush past.

“Did that girl do something?”

“Where are the gardes?! She must have done something to make Mr. Lyney chase after her’”

Seriously? You cast a glance, and Lyney’s scrambling down the stage, his assistants yelling after him and demanding for an explanation.

“Wait, no!” Lyney exclaims in response to the audience reluctantly getting up from their seats and reaching out to you. “Ah— Not to worry, everyone! I just have personal matters to attend to. Please, just stay—”

Idiot, you want to scream, it’s not so personal if you’re chasing after me in front of all of them!

The Melusine guarding the entrance seems oblivious to the ruckus inside. She blinks up at your haste and asks, “Is the show over?”

You say, “I have an emergency. Uhm—I, uh.”

Her face turns serious. She nods. “I see.”

“What— what are you thinking? it’s—” Your ears pick up on Lyney’s steps, and you wisely decide that it is not the time to save face. You give the Melusine a wave. “Thank you!”

You take a swift, sharp turn once you’ve reached the end of the stairs, stumbling into a dead end, and you don’t get very far.

You wonder if Aether and Paimon chased after you or if they’d pretend not to know you for the sake of the mission. If you die, you hope they would at least still pay you for compensation, and the money would go to Rosalie. Or maybe she would be enraged when she finds out you’re a Fatuus and doesn’t take it. Maybe your story of deceiving Rosalie would make her customers flourish, buying flowers to disguise the intent of asking about the liar residing in her home for years.

“Caught you,” Lyney whispers, his firm grip around your waist. The rushing water is noisy, but his voice is clear to your ears.

Hearing his voice up close is a problem. “Whoever you think I am, you’re mistaken!”

“Then why did you run?”

“You—” You had that look on your face I didn’t want to see again “—I forgot to lock my door. I don’t want my house to be robbed. Which might be occurring at this moment the longer you have me like this.”

Lyney laughs. It sounds like music that has haunted you for years—and with a new one playing, it’ll torment you for years more. He loosens his grip but keeps you caged in, still. You’re twirled around to face him, and something about his expression has you swallowing thickly.

“You’re even more stunning than I remember, ma chérie.”

Your face burns. “Thanks, but I don’t even know who you… ugh, stop looking at me like that…” Lyney’s smile, looking so fond, doesn’t falter in the slightest as if he expects that you would say that word for word.

“You think I’d mistake someone else for you? You’re the only one who runs from me like this,” he murmurs. His gaze feels heavy. 

“Mr. Lyney,” you sigh and turn away. You can’t bring yourself to look him in the eye when he says shit like that.  “Please. I didn’t show my face around anymore for a reason. A good reason.”

“I don’t trust your judgment to believe that.”

“Don’t talk as if you know me. We’ve been apart longer than we’ve been together.”

“Still, your words are as hurtful as ever,” Lyney says with a sad smile. You stiffen when he cups your cheek and touches you, his gloves rough on your skin. “You’re alive.”

You scowl. “Have you such little faith in me? How many times have I beaten you again?”

Lyney laughs again. Somehow, this is much worse than him killing you on sight. 

Lynette appears in your line of sight from behind Lyney, with Aether and Paimon trailing after her. Her steps are slow. Aether has that expression on his face that says, don’t react!

Luckily, Lyney takes your hitch of breath as embarrassment at having witnesses. He tears away but promptly reaches for your wrist as if a leash for a dog. You tug, but nothing happens. For someone who looks so delicate, he has quite the strength.

“Hello, Traveler, Paimon,” he says pleasantly. “Sorry to interrupt your show.”

Aether shakes his head. “I just wondered if something went wrong.”

Does this not look wrong enough for him? You hurl him a blank stare.

Lyney follows Aether’s gaze and glowers. He jerks you to his side and stares at Aether pointedly. Aether looks at you, confused. You don’t know what the fuck is going on either.

“I didn’t know you were familiar with Y/N,” Lyney observes coldly.

“I don’t,” Aether says easily. “I came out here to see if you were okay.”

Still, Lyney doesn’t loosen his grip.

“Y/N,” Lynette says. She interrupts whatever dick-measuring contest is brewing with a small smile on her face. “You’re here.”

“I am,” you wheeze out, still trapped in Lyney’s arms. It’s a little difficult to be anywhere else with your current predicament.

Lynette clears her throat, giving her brother a look. You recognize that one—it’s the one she uses when Lyney is embarrassing her and would give him a stern word about it later. Lyney grumbles and sets you free.

“Traveler, I have something to say to you,” Lyney says, his chin high and his stare cool.

“Alright,” Aether says, brows furrowed. He casts you a glance that Lyney watches carefully. “Come on, Paimon.”

Lynette fixes your sleeves as the boys leave for somewhere more secluded. You follow them until their silhouettes disappear. “How have you been?” she asks.

“I’ve just been in the low, but I’m doing fine,” you say, feeling a little shy. Lynette has grown up as nicely as her brother. Her hair is tied up now; you remember that Lyney used to beg for Lynette to use the hairclips he’s bought, but Lynette insists she doesn’t like them. You offered her a hair tie that day. “It’s been really stressful and all that. Sorry to ruin your show.”

“Don’t worry about that. Or them. You’re here—that’s the most important thing on Lyney’s mind at the moment,” she says, and at the face you’re making, she adds: “And you can’t tell me I’m wrong. You know I’m not.”

“Haha.” You don’t know what to say to that.

Lynette hums. “Are you carrying out missions?”

You start thinking about the danger of confessing to present-fatuis that you are no longer one. As much as you trust them, you don’t trust they hold you to the same level. They have complete faith and loyalty towards The Knave, which you abandoned long ago. The orphans’ trust ran deep, and no one—not even you—could fuck with it.

You nod. “Yes, which is why I’ve been too busy. I’m— you see, I work for Lord Tartaglia now.”

Lynette looks stunned, speechless. Lyney has words to say, though, coming back at the perfect time. You take a peek at Aether, but it seems that he hasn’t followed Lyney back.

Lyney hurries to your side. “Master Childe? Is that why you’re here? We saw him around yesterday… Was it yesterday?” He turns to his sister, who nods.

Just your luck. Of all the Harbingers you thought of, it’s the one currently in Fontaine.

You’re losing confidence, and you hope it doesn’t show on your face. You used to look at the orphans in the House of the Hearth and think that you can beat them easily, without a sweat—right now, it feels as if they’re miles from your reach.

“Is this where Mr. Lyney went?” you hear from afar. “Perhaps they went back to the city!”

Lyney and Lynette’s faces turn exasperated. Lyney drags you further to the corner of the wall, and Lynette has her eyes peeled, scanning the path that leads here.

“Listen, I have to go. I can’t stay here for long.” They report everything to her; you know that well enough. “The— ‘Father’ already knows I’m here, so there’s no need to talk about me.”

Lyney stares at you for a moment too long. “Why?”

You wrack your head for something the twins wouldn’t be able to push. “I’m ashamed to see Father while I’m like this. After our fight, she had to transfer me. My pride and all that, you know?” You put on a timid expression. “Please don’t push.”

It works seamlessly. Lyney’s face falls. “Are you going to run from us again?”

“She might make me leave if she finds out I was talking to you.”

Lyney looks angry. “I’ll make sure she won't.”

“Don’t push,” you remind him softly. You’re a little stunned that he’s going this far. “I thought you hated me.”

“I could never hate you to the point of letting you slip from my grasp again.”

Hmm. That’s a strange way of phrasing it.

Before you can look into it anymore, Lyney takes your hand. “You said to me my loyalty is my worth. Well, by that logic, I’m nothing but valuable to you.”

“…Right,” you murmur, facing away from him and turning to Lynette for help, but she’s looking off to the side as well, still watching out for any gardes, yet her ears are pointed here. “I know that.”

“Y/N?” Lyney’s smiling when he forces your attention on him once more.

“Hm? What?” You need to look for Aether fast. Maybe tell him of the events that transpired and convince him that this was a terrible idea and Aether can arrest Lyney for all you care.

You do care. That’s the whole reason you’re doing this in the first place.

“I’m happy to see you,” he says.

“...I’ll see you around, Miss Lynette and Mr. Lyney.”

It wasn’t difficult to look for Aether and Paimon. You found them easily because you wanted to go there yourself: Hotel Debord.

Paimon’s wolfing down a plate of cake while Aether idly sips on his drink. Aether notices you first, waving you over. You find it strange that as soon as you pad over, Aether gestures to the stairs. You three climb up and find a place at the furthest table in the far corner.

“Lyney performs here sometimes, I heard,” Aether says as you settle in on a seat.

“Let’s hope he doesn’t strike this place with a surprise one while we’re on the most conspicuous seat,” you grumble. Paimon hands you her drink as comfort.

“I’d say that was a success,” Aether says, grinning. “Heartfelt reunion and rekindled feelings— I’ve never seen Lyney like that.”

“Like what?” Remembering Aether’s fixation on insisting on a blossoming relationship between you and the man you can’t even look in the eye, you immediately say, “Never mind. I don’t care. I ruined the plan.”

Aether laughs. “You didn’t, trust me. I learned something valuable today.”

You sip on the teacup. It’s Fonta, and it’s as unbearably sweet as the look in Lyney’s eyes as he talked to you. You’ve had enough of that for today.

“You can never hide it in your face when you care for someone,” Aether continues.

“You have that look on your face,” you say suspiciously. “Don’t tell me you’re also going to blackmail Lyney?”

“What? Of course not. That’s what I blackmailed you for.”

You snort. “And the Outlander reveals his true colors. You seriously still don’t believe me?”

“I still don’t have the information I want to have,” Aether reminds, stealing a piece of Paimon’s cake. She grumbles but doesn’t say anything else. She’s surprisingly compliant when there’s a plate before her. “That’s what you’re also here for, remember?”

“I don’t know, Aether,” you lament, sinking into your seat. “It feels like I made everything harder for me. “Do you still not trust them?”

“I think I blew it, too,” Aether laughs sheepishly. “I don’t think Lyney trusts me anymore.”

Paimon snorts, then quiets down when Aether shoots her a look.

“What did you and Lyney talk about?”

“It was a bit weird,” Aether confesses, then blushes at his drink. “I think Lyney was threatening me. He told me he saw me with someone by an alley.” At your confused look, Aether clarifies, “Doing something scandalous, I mean.”

You never thought Aether was the type, but that’s none of your business.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Aether sighs. “Of course I wasn’t up to anything of that sort. I’m still figuring out what he meant by that.”

“Maybe it’s a metaphor,” you say.

But Lyney doesn’t go lying about things like that. He may have a roundabout way of talking when he’s feeling playful, but ruining someone’s reputation is far too serious for that. And Aether never told you that Lyney was hostile around him—none of this just makes sense.

“All I remember was…” Aether’s gaze cuts down to your waist, and then he falls silent.

You frown. “Aether?”

Aether sighs. “I blew it. It’s up to you now.”

“Do you still see them as a threat?” you ask.

“It’s not that I see them as a threat. It’s just that… if they’re an obstacle I have to overcome between me and my sister, then I will do what it takes.”

Of course, you’re still stuck handling a pair of identical siblings. You could never understand the bond between them, but you have to admit, it’s interesting to see two sides of twins. One still together and one apart.

“Oh, right. Hold on,” Aether mutters, swiping a hand in the air. You watch in fascination as a bag materializes on his lap. He draws out a letter. “Lyney wanted me to give this to you, too.”

You read the contents. Aether asks, “What is it? A love letter? Does it have hearts drawn on it?”

“Stop that,” you say. “It has an address, no hearts.”

Aether gasps. Even Paimon pauses from her feast. “An address,” they chorus.

“It says meet me tomorrow.”

Aether hums. “Maybe this isn’t turning out so bad.”

Lyney’s soft expression flashes in your mind—the flower, the arm around your waist, ma chérie— Seriously, who told him it was alright to go around seducing women like that? You groan, your face falling into your palms. You both blew it. Maybe Paimon has a better chance of retrieving information than either of you.

“You must’ve really liked the Fonta,” Aether says, gesturing to your empty cup. “Want another one?”

You don’t hesitate before saying yes.

The flower Lyney threw you has already wilted by the time you return to the flower shop. It’s past midnight, yet there is still a dim light washing over from outside. You spot Rosalie seated by the chair behind the counter, her posture straightening as the bell chimes.

“You’re back!” She grins, though her eyes look heavy and a little red. She must’ve been sleeping deeply.

“Rosalie,” you greet, a little fond, a little exasperated, “did you wait for me?”

“I told that Outlander boy to bring you home before ten,” she huffs, ambling over to you. She pats your dress and sighs dreamily. “Did you enjoy Mr. Lyney’s show?”

There was no show to begin with. “Yes. I did. It was splendid. Cut a bit too short, though.”

“Were you chosen as a participant?” she asks, hopeful.

“No,” you say, laughing a little. Although Mr. Lyney did chase after me. You wonder what kind of face Rosalie would make if you told her that. She wouldn’t be able to sleep if you did; you’re sparing her quite nicely.

Rosalie smiles. You like her smile; it’s all soft and fond, and she’s always smiling, leaving smile lines on her face. If you got caught earlier and she found out about your true past, would she still smile at you like that? “You should get some sleep. You look tired.”

“Yeah.”

“You’re so cute, mon ange. You look like you’re glowing!” Rosalie squeals, pulling you in for a hug that smothered your face on her neck. “You should go out more often!”

“Glowing?” Rosalie’s hug has your words come out all fucked up. “If anything, I’m drained— maman, your hair is getting on my mouth, please. And I still want to work here, okay? Don’t kick me out so suddenly.”

Rosalie’s frozen, her smile wiped off her face. You look up and blink at her curiously. “Rosalie?” you ask.

She stammers, “Oh—ah, it’s nothing. I just thought— Oh, you’re right. I’m tired, too. Don’t stay out so late next time if you don’t want my face having eyebags!”

As much as you hate to admit it, seeing Lyney and Lynette did feel a bit nice.

notes !!! new chapter yay :D lmk what u think !!

akagi back at it again with giving us bangers like its NOTHING. look at this scene of lyney recognizing reader in the audience!! the details... aughhh + THE EXTRA ART IS SO FUNNY

PLUS PLUS LOOK AT AKAGIS ART OF LITTLE LYNEY AND GROWN UP LYNEY AAAHHH

TAGLIST.

@thenyxsky @aeferkssr @1mewo1 @lacrimae-lotos @meigalaxy @hyacinth-daze @miwafei @popochakku @svasilios @heyhazelnut101 @kruinka @waveto-earth @superstar-ethereal @mxplesyrvp @achilleas-dream @episodecete @jellifizz @auranny @motherscrustytoenailclippings @iawaaaaaaa @rionah @cherryig @kzhwaif @mystiquemare @unknownlololol @sanluvssu @blvdmrcnry @kascar-chronicle @idontevenknow129 @tarathecogsci

[cherubimcore]

phantom of the opera ! au

pairing: logan x reader

author's notes: i have been writing this since last month, i still don't think is really that good but i'm happy with it, i did re-read the phantom of the opera and did my research to write this fic (still i could have made some mistakes) so after saying all that happy halloween! 🎃

“the phantom of the opera really existed, but he wasn’t a cold translucent body that resembles a person nor a floating sheet with holes for eyes, the phantom of the opera was a broken man with such a guilt on his shoulders that made him feel like a monster, everyone thought of him as a monster but every time i looked at him i only saw a man that suffered his entire life, that needed someone to love and cherish him despite his flaws and i love i love i love him and he loves me back with the same passion”

- (l/n), (y/n). diary of (y/n), 1870

your day ended with whispers amid young dancers and singers in the dressing room.

“i saw the phantom today while we performed!”

“you saw him?”

“as plainly as i see you!”

“what does he look like? please tell us!”

while taking off your corset you started to pay attention to their words when you heard the mention of this phantom, everyone was uneasy (to say the least) in the opera house because of the rumors of a ghost wandering around, especially after the death of the stagehand after a performance not long ago.

“well… he was in one of the boxes, box five you know, the box on the grand tier, next to the stage-box, on the left”

“this is ridiculous!” you said, a hand on the hip and furrowed brows “you wouldn’t be able to see anything in box five from the stage, let alone a person!”

“it wasn’t a person!” the girl you still haven’t learned the name snapped as if she couldn’t believe someone was doubting her testimony, she then sat down again with a terrified expression “it was him, i’m sure of it, the phantom! it was the monster that killed mr. buquet!”

“mr. buquet was found hanged” you clarified trying to put some sense in the girl’s head, as much as you were also scared of the thought of working in a haunted opera with a killer ghost, you also tries to use logic in every aspect of your life, and everything related to this rumor was not logic “he killed himself, that had nothing to do with this phantom of your because he simply isn’t real”

another one of the girls who hadn’t been talking all that much clenched her fists.

“i want to hear you say that when he comes after you!” she hissed “let’s go, girls”

the other dancers gathered their belongings and left the room.

in a blink of an eye you were alone.

it was already difficult enough being the new girl, but now you were the new girl everybody hated.

with a sigh you plop down on a chair in the corner of the room and start to think.

there were things concerning you more than this stupid rumor, worries that came before you got hired in the opera.

you always loved to sing, with both your parents being musicians, you were surrounded by music since you were born and throughout your life the only thing that made you keep going was your dream of becoming a lead soprano, the lead soprano, someone who’s voice would be remembered for the rest of eternity, so you practiced and practiced and practiced to one day perform on stage and hear the praises of the public, infatuated with your voice.

but after the death of your parents you stopped singing completely, not feeling the joy you once felt only the grief consuming your soul, it took years for you to start singing again and by the time you started once again, you were already a bit rusty, but you couldn’t give up, even if your parents weren’t here anymore you would make them proud.

but doubts always lingered in your mind ever since you got hired in the palais garnier: what if you couldn’t make your parents proud? what if you weren’t good enough? what if even if you practiced 24/7, 7 days a week you still wouldn’t get the lead soprano role like you always wanted?

what if you simply were a failure?

your took a deep breath feeling tears running down your cheeks and quickly dried them with the sleeve of your costume.

you get up determined to bury those thoughts so deep inside you they wouldn’t be able to claw their way back and ruin you.

you were going to be the lead soprano.

people will love your voice.

your parents will be proud.

whatever it takes.

a couple days later after making that promise you were in your dressing room after another performance still breathing heavily from the intensity of the spectacle, behind your door you could hear whispers and footsteps meaning people were already leaving the opera for the night, you knew you needed to leave sooner or later but your mistakes on stage kept plaguing your mind, it had been days since you had a proper night of sleep and some of your co-workers started to take notice of the heavy bags under your eyes but you simply couldn’t sleep knowing your goal was so far away, especially when you caught the other singers saying you were “singing like a crock”after practice, questioning how someone like you has been hired in the infamous palais garnier.

so you wouldn’t sleep, if you wanted to be better than all of them you needed to practice twice as hard.

you took a deep breath while locking the door to make sure no one would interrupt you and started to undress from your cherubino costume, you still didn’t know why the directors made you play a breeches role even if it your voice wasn’t the right tone for this character, and put some actual comfortable clothes before taking off your make-up.

with one more look at the mirror you started to sing.

your sweet yet insecure voice filled your dressing room, it was a promising voice, but it lacked control and you knew it, your voice faltered at some point making you sigh, frustrated. you couldn’t reach the higher notes and it tormented you, with a groan you opened your mouth to start again.

but before any sound could come out of your throat you felt a presence in the room.

suddenly a deep and seductive voice echoed off the walls, as if coming from every corner at once “you are forcing it”

your breath was caught in your chest as you looked around, but saw no one.

“who’s there?” you asked with a trembling voice.

“someone who can help you, if you trust me”

a shiver ran down your spine.

it was him.

you just knew it.

the phantom.

somehow he passed through your locked door, now you were the one locked inside with him.

“why should i trust you?” you replied with more courage than you actually felt.

“because i can make you into what you wish to be and more, everything you dream can be yours… if you accept me as your mentor.”

you hesitated, torn between fear and a strange attraction, feeling a shiver run down your spine. you knew you should fear this man, you knew you should get out of the room screaming for your life, but the promise he made, to reach the greatness you so desired, was irresistible.

“yes” you whispered, sealing your fate.

from that night on, the phantom became your shadow, guiding you through every note, shaping your voice until perfection, but his presence was overwhelming. you felt his gaze at all times, as if he could see through you, knowing every thought, every emotion, you even questioned at one point if he could actually read your mind.

your classes first started in your own dressing room, you remembered the first time you actually saw him, after countless times asking him to show himself, you lost your breath, the man was breathtaking, he had a strong built body beneath dress-clothes that hugged his body perfectly even with those clothes you could tell he had a hirsute physique especially because of his mutton chop sideburns, he also had a unique hairstyle that reminded you of cat ears for some reason.

“you…” you looked at him puzzled “you are the phantom of the opera?”

the man chuckles while looking around the room lit by a soft light, the only thing he could think about was how he never had seen it so close.

“that’s what they call me?” he smiled at you, you noticed he had animal-like canine teeth, a small detail that, alongside his other features, made your knees weak.

you smiled at him.

“what should i call you?” you asked “since you are my mentor now, how do you want me to call you?”

he looked a little shocked when you make that question, as if no one had asked him that in a long time.

“logan” the man you once called phantom answered, a little out of breath “you can call me logan…”

overtime, something strange began to happen, it wasn’t just your voice that was changing, your heart raced every time you heard his voice. you longed for his teaching, for his presence.

logan also started to change, instead of coaching you as far away as possible he started to get closer and closer to you, slowly he would open up about his past but nothing that would indicate how logan ended up in the opera house and you were scared to ask questions and end up pushing him away, what had started as mere admiration on both parts grew into something deeper and darker.

you began to seek him out, even when he didn’t call you, the thing you most wanted was to see who the man behind the grumpy face was, why was he living in the opera? where were his family? what was he hiding?

your heart races with an inexplicable pull towards logan, a fascination you can no longer deny, with all those feelings and questions in your mind you decided to follow him deeper into the shadows.

it was difficult to put your plan into action, you started to understand why logan laughed when you said people called him “phantom”.

logan really had the gift of appearing and disappearing to his heart’s content as if he didn’t have a physical body.

but you knew better.

after failing multiple times to follow him you started to watch the man even more closely every time when you were together, and when you weren’t you wandered around the opera trying to understand the architecture and looking for secret passages and hiding places that would allow logan to pass unseen amongst opera workers and yourself.

to be honest you felt a little bit ridiculous doing this but you knew, even if it would sound ridiculous to someone else, it was the only possible explanation you had at the moment.

and it didn’t take long for you to find out what you were looking for.

and it took even less time for you to find yourself in the underground catacombs of the paris opera house.

“what am i doing? what am i doing? what am i doing?” you chanted to yourself while looking at the damp walls and flickering lights in what felt like a haunted place at the time, but then you started to actually think about what were you doing and who are you doing it for.

you were doing this for the man who found potential in your voice at a time you were unsure if you actually had any talent for singing.

you were doing this for the man that held you so delicately when you were crying your eyes out when you didn’t get the role of eurydice, a role where you practiced so hard with him and you felt you were letting him down because of your failure.

you were doing this for the man that, when you mentioned that to him, he held your face still wet from your tears and made you look into his eyes, instead of finding him looking at you with an angry expression and telling you he really was disappointed with you, questioning why he decided to be your mentor actually you were met with the kindest eyes you had ever seen in your life while logan whispered “you will never let me down”

you were doing this for the man that never let you touch his hands saying they had done more harm than good, that they are dangerous but you always notice the longing expression, showing a desire for you to ignore his words and look past his facade and love him besides his faults.

and you do.

you do love him besides his faults.

you are doing this for logan, the man that also loves you besides your own faults.

a lost soul, yearning, just like yours.

your thoughts were interrupted when you heard his voice.

“you shouldn’t have come, (y/n). these halls, this life… it’s not meant for you.”

ahead of you, logan’s form is barely visible, his black clothes blending with the darkness.

the man speaks without turning, his voice both haunting and tender.

“but i must understand” your voice wavers, not from hesitation “you… you’re more than a phantom, more than the stories they tell, i’ve felt it since the first time you sang to me.”

you took a few more steps closer.

“you say this is not my world, but i feel like i belong here with you, in the music, in the dark”

“what about your dream?” logan finally turned to face you, even in the badly lit room you were in, the pain in his eyes was unmistakable “your dream to be a lead soprano? your dream to make the world know your voice?”

you giggled.

“i can still do all those things, i never said i wanted to be famous,” you confessed “i want to be a legend, the lead soprano who made people reach nirvana once in their life to never be seen again.”

logan looked puzzled, he couldn’t understand how someone like you would prefer a life in darkness with him instead of the glory of being in the spotlight where you could have everything you wanted.

“you don’t know what you are saying” logan’s voice trembles as he gestures around him, to the cavernous, endless maze of catacombs “this is not beauty, it is madness, a prison. my past, what i truly am… are not things you would wish to see.

you stepped closer to him, your hand outstretched but not quite touching the man in front of you.

“then show me. show me your past. show me your pain” your breath catches in your throat as you speak “i want to know, logan. i want to see what makes you… you.”

logan inhales sharply at hearing his name on your lips, as if you had unraveled a sacred secret. he looks away, conflicted, his shoulders tense. but you move even closer, your fingers brushing the edge of his suit.

“if you follow me any further, (y/n), there will be no turning back." logan's voice softens, filled with sorrow. "my world, my heart - it will consume you."

he looks into your eyes, pleading with you to turn away, pleading with you to think again and leave him in the darkness and live a better life.

but seeing the determination in your face, he sighs defeated.

"very well... follow me"

logan continues deeper into the labyrinth, and you, unwavering follows. the air grows colder, the walls narrower making you feel as if the weight of the earth is pressing down on you, it didn't take long for you both to reach a hidden chamber. inside, candlelight flickers over rows of old mirrors, sheets of music, and a grand organ, half-covered in dust. the remnants of a tortures life, a man that forgot the world above.

your breath catches as you step into the room, your eyes scanning the relics of his past.

"this..." your voice is soft, filled with wonder and sadness. "this is where you've been all these years?"

you turn around to face him, logan watches you as if waiting for you to recoil in horror, but when you don't, when instead you step closer and places your hand gently on his, something breaks inside of him.

"this is all i am" logan's voice, rough but tender, breaks the silence "a creature of the dark, of pain. nothing more."

your eyes fill with tears, but still you don't look away.

"no. you are more than that. you are music, you are passion, you are love. logan, i see you and i love what i see."

gently you took his hands and place in on your cheeks, logan's eyes are filled with disbelief and emotion, met your.

"you don't know what i have done, you don't know what these hands are capable of"

"then show me and let me love you anyway"

in that moment, something shifts. the darkness no longer feels suffocating but intimate, a shared space where two souls, both broken in their own way, find solace in each other.

[brighter-by-the-daly]

Rachel Daly x Reader

Back to the Start

AN: Another follow on fic to my original RD x R series - a look at where the couple is now.

*Part of this story mentions neurodivergence, this is based on my own diagnosis and for the sake of the story, Rachel or Millie have never said that they are*

Laying on the sofa in the house you have recently moved into with Rachel felt like bliss – a full circle moment. Your head rested on her lap while the TV glowed in the background as you both scrolled on your phones after a long day at work. Rach had recently stepped down from international duties which meant she had more time to build a life with you but you didn’t let her make the decision lightly. Watching her last game in the stands when nobody knew it would be the end made you sad but the pictures and shirts hung up around the house reminded you both that it happened. You had chatted over tonights dinner so the silence and unwinding was welcomed as you let go of all the workplace drama.

“I’ve been offered tickets to a show tonight, do you wanna go?” Rachel broke the silence making you drop your phone and look up at her, you had been looking forward to relaxing since the start of your shift this morning. You were finally getting over the stress of moving and was enjoying spending time in your first home with your fiancée so your reply wasn’t encouraging. “Err..what is it?” your tone of voice already telling her that you weren’t keen on moving from the sofa anytime soon. Running her fingers through your hair she knew how tired you were. “Something called Six in London?” she said, moving the phone away from her face and gazing down at you to see your reaction,“Six?!” your demeanor quickly changed, sitting upright suddenly in excitement. “I’ve wanted to see that for ages!” your eyes glowed with enthusiasm that wasn’t there a few moments ago. “They’ve said we can meet them beforehand if we get there early enough too?” Suddenly filled with a whole truck load of energy you started bouncing around the room gathering your make up, mirror and hair brush while ticking over outfits in your mind. “Oh, I do like being your girlfriend, you know that right?” you gushed, leaning over the back of the sofa to kiss her but she pulled away before you could. “Excuse me! You’re my fiancée remember!” she screeched cheekily and waved your own hand in your face to remind you of the ring on your finger. “How could I forget” you blushed, admiring your ring, “I can’t wait to marry you” holding both her cheeks you brought her in for the kiss she’d backed away from a few moments earlier. “I can’t wait to call you my wife” she breathed in between your lips stroking together. “Say that again” your words mumbled seductively into her mouth, leading her to snap her head away from yours and start to dramatically perform to an invisible audience. “What? My wife? Oh yes this is my wife (y/n), Mrs (y/n) Daly, that’s her, the love of my life!” You giggled as the goosebumps trickled up your arms when she grabbed you and pulled you back onto the sofa with her. 

The instructions in the email Rach had received told you to get dropped at the stage door which allowed you to enter the theatre in secret. Since coming back from the World Cup you were lucky if you made it around the local supermarket without being stopped 3 times - your whole life had changed and now you’d become Rachel’s personal photographer when it came to the fans. Sometimes they asked for a picture with you too but that was a rare occasion so you revelled in the days where you could sneak into somewhere without being spotted and try to live a normal life like before. You met the actresses and took photos together that would be used as promo on the show’s socials (this always seemed to be part of the package when you’re invited somewhere for free, you didn’t mind if it saved you money though!) then was shown the way to your box. You’ve been in boxes for shows before but this was like another world, it had a door for a start and the normal seats had been replaced with a sofa, allowing you to snuggle close together away from everyone to enjoy the show. It was amazing and you both really enjoyed it, the songs had you up and clapping at the end wishing you could watch it all over again.

You let most of the crowds leave before you did then took a stroll down to Trafalga Square, you’d never seen it at night before. “Is this bringing back memories?” you asked flicking your eyes around the vast empty space and wrapping your arms around your lady. Remembering the Euros celebration and Rach singing her Rag Doll in front of thousands of fans. You were one of them, smitten with her brave and carefree attitude how she did that without a care in the world. “I was… stood right around here, I think” you said slowly, waiting for her to catch on. Rachel who was watching the traffic looked at you stunned - “this is when my crush started, you singing in front of everyone, being so happy and just not giving a shit about anything, I loved it, made me want to care less about what people think, it was brave.. and sexy” you said fiddling with her hair between your fingertips. “I still can’t believe I did that to be honest, I think I was still drunk and thought fuck it” she laughed. “I couldn’t take my eyes off you.. still can’t” winking at her, “and now you’re marrying me” she gushed.. “and now, I’m marrying you” confirming what she’d said your eyes sparkled looking up at her. Walking over towards the fountain Rach quizzed you on why you hadn’t told her you were at the celebration before, you said that you were waiting for a cute time and this seemed like it.

Perching on the ridge of the fountain wall you positioned yourselves to be looking at each other, London had never seemed so peaceful and calm. “Do you think our lives are planned out for us when we’re born?” Rachel asked, making you take a minute to think; you had studied philosophy and ethics in school and this was something you had written countless essays on, it’s typically a Christian view and being agnostic you allow yourself to believe in anything you want. “Not necessarily, but our story makes me think fate exists. Like my life wasn’t planned for me, I’ve made all of this happen, nothing is taking away my own achievements. But was it fate that lead me to you?” you paused in thought, stroking her leg. “Maybe.. seems to be more and more coincidences as time goes on. But then, can it be called coincidences because I was here celebrating your win? Because so was a lot of people. So who knows” you shrugged, leaving her to put forward her thoughts. “I believe in fate, I believe you were and are my fate and everything that’s happened has lead me to you. If I didn’t sing that, would you have fancied me? Would you have been front row, would you have taken my shirt? Then slept with me, come home with me and never left? Because if I didn’t sing that song you wouldn’t have started fancying me, no?” she projected. “You could be right there, your personality shone that day and that is what I fall for so..” you drifted off. “I’ve always been told by girlfriends that I’m too much, I’m a lot to handle. Then I was diagnosed with ADHD and everything just made sense. Millie has it too, must be why we became best friends” she drifted off. “You’re neurodivergent?” you interrupted with a hint of surprise in your voice. “Yeahhh?” her reply seemed coy, trying to gauge your reaction and whether it was good or bad. “Me too! I’ve read that we gravitate towards each other! Okay. It’s official. I do believe in fate!” you exclaimed excitedly, shaking her lightly with a huge smile on your face. “Woah, I was so worried to tell you in case it scared you off” her voice became more high pitched with every admission, “me too! I can’t believe it!” You hugged happily knowing neither of you have to hide that side of yourselves anymore but stopped suddenly when your excitement nearly landed you in the cold and murky fountain water. “Baby, nothing will scare me off. I’m marrying you for you, you’ll never be too much for me. The more the better!” you reassured her, both smiling with deep knowledge that you were both absolutely meant for each other. Sitting side by side on the fountain wall you talked for what seemed like hours, the cool evening breeze gently tousling your hair, you began reminiscing about the start of your relationship and how far you’d had come.

“We should probably go catch our train” Rach said glancing at her watch. You smiled and kissed her one last time before leaving, basking in the glow of the city lights and the warmth of each other's love, you knew that your story was far from over. But one thing was certain - you were in it together, forever and always.

[namjoonscoffeeshop]

Snatch (Alternative Version) | MYG

Chapter 1 ✧ warning(s): explicit language, gun violence, kidnapping ✧ synopsis; you're dad's worst enemy escapes prison and to return the favor of imprisoning him he gets his revenge by taking the one thing that mattered to him the most; his daughter. ✧ word count: 1.7k Index|Next

The stage lights blinded you as the music ended, but yet you stared straight ahead, the crowd cheering your name. It was your first solo performance and it was everything you had dreamed of. Stepping off stage your greeted with hugs and people were congratulating you. hearing your name called  by a familiar voice you look over, finding your dad with a bouquet. "dad!" you yell running to him, jumping into his arms. "should we go celebrate" he says after congratulating you.  

exiting the dressing room after getting changed, he guides you out. "Plans change" he says in a soft voice filled with annoyance. "oh..that's fine" you respond, not surprised that he'd have to leave last minute. "did something happen?" you ask but he doesn't respond. a man walks towards the two of you handing the phone to your father who groans as he listens to the person talking. 

there were more patrol cars when you exited the building, "drive home and stay inside, I'll be home later" he says, kissing your forehead after leading you to your car "don't go out" he says quickly, making his way to a patrol car. 

driving home you felt like a important person, there were three patrol cars following you, when you finally arrived you thought they'd leave but instead they stood outside. you had no idea what was happening but it had to be serious with so many people being stationed at the house. 

turning on the t.v after showering and getting something to eat you watch the news, waiting for some sort of emergency that would cause him to be so alarmed. 

"there are no casualties as of right now, those on the scene are investigating. only thing we were informed was that Min Yoongi has escaped" 

you watch as his photo appears on the screen, the reporter asking the public to keep alert and to call the authorities if there is any sign of him or if anyone has any information. 

"this is clearly a inside job" the man reporter says, expressing his opinion on the matter "how does half a prison blow up and the most wanted criminal suddenly escapes?" 

they continue their talk, not caring for their words or how the news station would be perceived.  changing the channel didn't stop you from seeing more of the incident. "he has been locked up for five years, after the chief of police succeeded to capture him" another reporter says "and it's just been said that he is on his way to the scene"

" it isn't a good day for him, his one job that caused him the biggest promotion of his career is now on the loose" 

turning off the television you feel bitter, five years ago when your dad had taken on this task. He decided to send you away with the excuse of keeping you safe. 

his mission was to intercept Mr.Mins business and get solid evidence to criminalize him, everything revealed to the public...half the things that were revealed was enough to stop someone from sleeping. it took him two years but he succeeded. 

criticism against only arresting Min yoongi was enough to almost stop the promotion, but to my fathers defense. Mr. Min was the only one he was able to get close to. 

startled you jolt as the phone rings. 

"y/n?" 

"dad? are you ok?"

"yes, i'm fine...did you watch the news" 

"it would've been hard to not watch...seeing how you left in a hurry" theres a small silence "do you think you can get him again?"

"it was hard the first time, and he wasn't aware of what was happening"

"you're advantage" you say 

"right. but you don't need to worry about this, please rest. set the alarms and i'll see you tomorrow" after calling the academy, taking a week off which thankfully they understood why  and checking the alarms you went to bed. 

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

two days had passed and there was no sign of him, and the rest of his group had suddenly gone off the radar. you were getting ready for bed when the program you were watching suddenly switches to breaking news. 

"xx mall has been set into flames, the left wing is completely gone. the scene a complete mess and what's more concerning is that it's the same as the prison break of two days ago where Min-" shutting off the television you couldn't help but feel your stomach churn at the scenes of people carrying others out of the mall. you decided sleeping early, would be a better choice then to sit and wait for your dad to return. 

*CRASH*

you wake up to the sound of glass breaking. glancing at the clock on your night stand, it wasn't long since you had fallen asleep. an hour to be exact. standing from your bed, you look out the window and there was nothing out of the ordinary, there should be people up front  you bite at your lip. 

*BANG*

your body jumps as you hear the gun shot, the sound followed with someone yelling your name. you recognized his voice, the man being one of the escorts who brought you home two days ago. running to the door you hold the door knob but you freeze. 

taking in a deep breath you step out after opening the door slowly. you could hear voices and things hitting the ground as you make your way towards the stair case. stopping you look out the window, clearly you had to find a different escape route, jumping from this side will not be bad you tell your self but before you could even try and open the window you hear foot steps at the end of the hall. 

turning to face the dark figure approaching you sigh in relief "thank god someone's here" you whisper, walking towards him. "what's going o-" you feel your arms get goosebumps as he steps into the little light from the windows and it was someone you didn't recognize. "w-who are you" you say backing away, glancing at your room you kept stepping back slowly. taking the chance you turn and run to your room but he was quicker, gripping your hair as he pulls you to the ground. 

pointing the gun to your head he doesn't say a word but you didn't need him to, staying still on the ground. "don't fucking move or i'll shoot you" you hear another voice making the man in front of you sigh "this is fucking annoying" everything was silent and you didn't dare to move "y/n get up and walk towards me" he says as he stares at the offender. you listen, standing up slowly your shoulders hunched as he speaks "get back on the ground" freezing as you stare at him. 

"I am not playing any games, I will pull the trigger" 

"y/n just walk to me"

annoyed the man turns to stare at the officer, taking the opportunity you take a step foreword, instantly hearing a gun shot making you scream. 

as you crouch down and cover your ears a saying comes to your head "if you hear the gunshot, that means you aren't dead" you hear as the body drop to the ground. terrified as the man in front of you wasn't the one to drop. 

"i know you aren't happy to be here but the least you can do is try to not get killed" the man begins to walk toward the two of you, gripping your arm as he lifts you up, you try to break free but he doesn't bother. throwing you at the feet at the new comer. 

"go help downstairs" he says causing the other to groan in frustration. crouching down he lifts your face with the point of his gun as he tucks it under your chin "take her to the room, don't take your eyes off her" the light hit his face and your eyes widen.

it was him, the guy on the tv, the guy your dad in-prisoned...the guy everyone was looking for. one man who stood behind him wasted no time to lift you up, throwing you over his shoulder.  not flinching as you kicked and slapped his back, screaming profanities. 

entering your room you got a better view at the men who had broken into your house. you start to take note at their appearances just as your father taught you. 

as your thrown on the bed you glare at the man, he had piercings on his face. above his brow and lips. his arm full of tattoos, he looks around. grabbing the pillow he yanks the pillow case off and uses it to tie your hands together "you're hurting me!" you scream but he doesn't even spare you a glance. tying you legs as well he pushes you to lay back, leaving you on the bed. 

you stare at the ceiling, your eyes filled with tears. then enters the man who was in the hall. "I take that I don't have to introduce myself, since you are his daughter" you don't respond which causes him to stand at the edge of the bed. he stares at you with a brow raised "you're dad, ruined everything" he says. 

"he always said his daughter was the most precious thing to him" snorting "fucking idiot, should've never mentioned his family..doesn't matter, I would've found out about you either way"

the tattooed man comes back, "the cars are ready" licking his lips he nods "go on then" 

"please let me go" you say to the tattooed man as he leans over you on the bed, holding your waist as he lifts you over his shoulder. you begin to thrash around as you scream at them to let you go. he walks down the stairs, the scene causing you to shut up instantly as you saw all the bodies on the ground. blood splattered everywhere. 

"someone shut her up" pulling out his gun he shoves it against your head "your eyes flicking up to him, it's the man who you first saw. he follows the two of you, pointing the gun at you.

once you're thrown into the back of a car he climbs in after you "taehyung put the gun away, you know that shit annoys me" the man glares at him 

"I don't even know why you came here hoseok" 

"fuck you, let me see you hack into a system as complicated as this fucking house" sticking his middle finger at taehyung. 

once the engine starts taehyung turns towards you hitting the back of your head with the gun, knocking you out. 

[soft-girl-musings]

Comedy of Errors (MK Spring Bingo #3)

Steven Grant x GN!Reader

cross-posted to ao3

tags: theater kid slander (affectionate), amateur references to Shakespeare, steven and reader teach high school, no use of y/n

wc: 1,341

fic summary: The course of true love never did run smooth. And neither does the play you watch unfold.

A/N: as a recovering theater kid, this was a fun one. enjoy!

_____________________

It's poor etiquette to laugh. Right?

How you ended up sitting in a high school theater on a Sunday afternoon, you have no idea. Well, that's not true: you never can say no to your favorite students. When they begged you to come to their closing matinee, you had no choice but to cough up the ticket money (with no faculty discount, to add insult to inconvenience).

So here you are, seated in the darkened auditorium, watching what could only be described as chaos unfold on your school's professional-grade thrust stage.

In the lobby you'd heard whispers of how last night's cast party had gotten a bit too rowdy, rendering a few upperclassmen unable to attend their final performance. It didn’t matter what circle you ran in at their age: you’d learned years ago that a “mysterious illness” following any high school party probably isn’t the flu.

Thankfully there were enough students to fill in the missing principal roles, but with only the morning to prepare, it’s a wonder they've gotten through each scene. Draped in ill-fitting costumes with scripts in hand, the students have tried their best to piece together one last staging of A Midsummer Night’s Dream. All you know about this play is that it’s a comedy, but you don’t think you’re supposed to laugh at every blunder and mishap.

(It’s very hard not to.)

Across the house you see Mr. Grant, one of the younger teachers on campus, whose face mirrors how you feel. He’s probably trying for a look of statuesque stoicism, but all he's managed to pull off is mild bewilderment.

You haven’t spoken to your coworker much– mainly because there’s rarely a moment where he’s without another colleague talking his ear off or hanging on every word of his (admittedly delicious) accent. He’s a newer hire, having come from London to teach a few history courses but was moved to the literature department the moment your principal saw the top of his resume. The modern education system, ladies and gentlemen.

The man is dressed to impress: black turtleneck under a sharp tweed ensemble, his usually wild curls tamed a bit as they grace his forehead, he certainly looks the part of a private school instructor. But there’s no denying the entirely unserious look on his face: he is one blunder away from losing his cool.

You don’t realize how long you’ve been staring until his bright brown eyes connect with yours. In an instant you understand why so many students doodle his name in the margins of their notebooks: his exasperated stare has you instantly weak.

–which is poor timing, given the scene unfolding onstage between you. An unrehearsed kiss goes wrong, and the two of you slap your hands over your mouths to subdue your laughter.

The rest of Act I goes the same way. You try to follow along, but every so often your eyes drift to Mr. Grant white-knuckling his way through the rough performance. When your eyes connect again (and again, and again) you both struggle to contain your laughter. Knowing that tears are likely stinging your colleague's eyes the same as yours makes you feel like less of an ass.

The curtain closes for intermission and you rest your head in your hands. How is this only half over?

“Bit of a rough watch, yeah?”

Your head snaps up– those brilliant brown eyes widen at your expression, now only one row of seats between the two of you.

“Mr. Grant–”

“Steven,” he says quickly, offering his hand. You take it and smile.

“Steven,” you begin again, giving your name in return. “I don’t mean to be rude, but aren’t some of these kids–”

“–in my Shakespearean Studies course? Quite a few, really.” He laughs, rubbing the back of his neck. “But we’ve focused more on the historical tragedies. Don’t think a textbook can teach comedic timing.”

“Oh, I've laughed plenty.” You fidget with your program and look back to the stage. “At least they’re trying their best, I’m sure part of you is proud.”

Steven’s smile grows as he shakes his head. “I’ll be honest, it’s nice to know they’ve looked at the material for once.” He leans in. “Last week I asked them where the phrase ‘double, double, toil and trouble’ came from, and someone said Harry Potter.”

You laugh out loud for the first time all evening. It feels nice to not hide it. You miss how Steven takes in the sight of you, as well as his loss for words when you calm down.

“I have a confession to make,” you say hoarsely, wiping a tear from the corner of your eye. “I have no idea what’s supposed to be happening. I’m lost as hell.”

“Maybe I could–” he trips over his words and his feet as he clambers around the seats to sit next to you. “Maybe I could help you out. Bit of an expert, myself. What they pay me for, and all–”

“Sure,” you stop him with a smile. “I’d like that.”

He breathes a sigh of relief and settles in. Pulling out a pair of reading glasses, he opens his program.

“Right. So, A Midsummer Night’s Dream…”

The rest of your intermission is spent receiving a crash-course in William Shakespeare. You’re amazed at how he spouts the most minute details about recurring symbolism, character motivations, and even the historical context of the play up until the lights dim and the show resumes. You squeeze his forearm to silently suggest taking a break, and he chokes down whatever factoid was about to tumble out next.

Maybe it’s because the students have found their footing. Maybe your mini-lecture has filled in the gaps so you can better follow along. Or maybe it’s the sight of Mr. Grant– Steven– sitting beside you, rapt attention on the stage as his readers slide down his nose each time he laughs and leans in to explain the joke, drawing closer and wafting his subtle cologne your way between still-too-loud whispers. Whatever the reason, you’re enjoying the second half of this show much more than the first.

The play draws to a close with a happy ending. One of the fae characters comes downstage to address the audience as the rest of the cast departs.

“If we shadows have offended,

Think but this and all is mended:

That you have but slumbered here

While these visions did appear…”

“Star pupil, that one,” Steven whispers once more. “Deserves every bit of the spotlight.”

You squeeze his arm again, this time not moving your hand or looking his way. You both take in the last words of the performance in dazed silence.

“...Give me your hands, if we be friends,

And Robin shall restore amends.”

With that, the fairy bows and the stage fades to black.

The audience erupts into applause as the cast returns onstage. You and Steven cheer and swap last-minute quips about the performance as the standing ovation thunders around you.

You exit the auditorium together and are immediately swarmed by a handful of students– some yours, some his– who eagerly await your feedback. You each congratulate the cast, getting them to sign your programs to commemorate the day.

Finally you’re able to break away and step into the brisk evening air.

“Well that was… something,” you laugh.

Steven grins as he fastens his coat. “‘Least they’ll be tuckered out in first period, yeah? Might get a bit of peace tomorrow morning.” He pulls something out of his pocket and hands it to you. “Sorry, don’t want you to leave that behind. Could be worth something someday.”

You take your folded program back from him. “Oh, I'm sure.”

With an awkward wave, Steven steps back. “Right. Well, see you around.”

“See you, Steven.”

You turn to head toward your car. As you walk, you unfold your program to see a new signature on the back page, followed by a phone number.

Let me know if you need any more Shakespeare translated. I’m fond of the love poems, myself ;)

_____________________

A/N: mk bingo has been a blast, i'm grateful for the chance to put these guys in Situations. that's one for each of em now. we'll see who gets attention next...

also, some inspiration was taken from this post (rip)

as always, ty for reading <3

event tags: @moonknight-events @spacecowboyhotch @juneknight

addtl tags: @mrs-lockley @lunar-ghoulie @shadystarlightgentlemen @casa-boiardi @nerdieforpedro @queerponcho (lmk if you'd like to be added to/removed from this wee tag list)

[shanastoryteller]

Happy Valentine’s Day! Do you have more gryffindor draco or more slytherin harry? Thanks so much

a continuation of 1 2 3��4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14

Remus doesn't get many visitors. He has few friends and those that he does have are disinclined to meet him at the edge of a middle of nowhere muggle village, especially when he's decided against connecting his fireplace to the floo network.

So the last thing he's expecting is a teenage witch banging down his door in the middle of winter, shivering and glaring at him like it's somehow his fault. She smooths her face into a pleasant smile which instantly puts him on edge. "Hello, Mr. Lupin, my name is Agnesa and I'm a fifth year Hogwarts student. Can I come in?"

"Do your parents know where you are?" he asks.

She doesn't so much as blink. "I'm here to talk to you about Harry Potter."

Harry. He ignores the familiar clench in his chest and doesn't look back to the box where he keeps all the articles he'd clipped out. He looks so much like James, although his friend would probably be rolling to hear that his son was sorted into Slytherin. Lily would have slapped some sense into him, he knows, but cheering for the Slytherin team would have sent him into the five stages of grief every game.

"You should invite me in now," Agnes says. "It's cold and I can't perform any warming charms in the middle of a muggle town without setting off an alert at the ministry." She frowns. "Although they must be used to your magic popping up here so maybe they wouldn't notice."

They'd notice. The ministry monitors him closer than most, searching for a spike of magic that they can use to raid his home and arrest him.

"You should go," he says. "There's nothing I can help you with."

He starts to close the door and she jams her foot in it, her veneer of niceness dropped as she glares at him with all the scorn an inconvenienced teenage girl can muster. "Mr. Lupin, let me inside and hear me out or your lycanthropy status will be in every tawdry gossip rag I can bribe."

How did she - "Who are you?" he snaps.

"Don't you listen? I'm Agnesa, I'm a Prefect, and Harry Potter is in my house and he's my responsibility and he's yours too and you're going to help me or else."

Of course she's a Slytherin. "As you're seemingly well aware, given my status there's nothing I can do for Harry."

He'd tried. Dumbledore had insisted it wasn't safe.

"As you're seemingly unaware, better a werewolf than the worst sort of muggles," she retorts. It's odd to here McGonagall's decade old words coming out of her mouth. "We can arrange for Harry to be out of the house when you transform, but I can't exactly go and intimidate a bunch of muggles into acting correctly without landing myself in Azkaban. Also Wolfsbane exists."

"Petunia isn't that bad," he says, taken aback at her vehemence. She and Lily hadn't always gotten along, especially towards the end, but she'd loved her sister.

"She is, and if you'll let me inside, I'll tell you why," Agnesa stresses.

Remus sighs and steps back.

"Thank you," she says pointedly, whipping off her cloak and then giving him a betrayed look when he has no coat hook handy.

He'd really been hoping for a quiet afternoon.

[matan4il]

Man Suang review

Spoilers! (obviously. Also, this was written after watching the movie just once, to give my opinion as "raw" as possible)

This may seem like a weird spot to start, but I feel like I really can't review this movie properly, without pointing out that it's Moulin Rouge, except set in another country AND another genre. The latter gives it a very different feel (to a great degree, due to tone as well, MS is a serious movie, while MR, even while it does want you to care, doesn't take itself too seriously), but the basic structure of the two movies is too similar, so I have to start there.

In both cases, the movie revolves around (and gets its title from) an entertainment center, which is beautiful and alluring, but also serves as a stage for some of the uglier sides of human urges. This entertainment institution houses performers of low social status, who often also must prostitute themselves to the rich and powerful people who frequent the place. And while the whoring is pretty much built in, and no one bats an eye at it, this setting also allows for some murderous intents to surface. The plot is centered around an exceptionally beautiful and talented, lowborn entertainer, who must sell their body to get by, having aspirations to get a better life through this, and the seemingly simple guy, who is a part of their social circle at this entertainment place, who has his own aspirations, and is not as lowly, which is why he doesn't have to stoop as low as prostitution, and can offer something different. Despite the connection between them, they're both trapped in plots bigger than them, set into motion before they even met, and they have to struggle to find their way amidst all this intrigue, which moves them almost like they were pawns. By the end of the movie, there will be betrayal between the two, but also repentance, and an act of choosing each other over their initial ideal, allowing them to make decisions that are "righter" than they would have, had they not met, and ones that give them more freedom than had they simply served the initial goal they were supposed to. Through that, they gain more freedom and agency. Yet despite that, they don't end the movie being together.

Now, why do I bring this comparison up? Because while MR doesn't take itself seriously, like I said, it does want the viewer to care, and it achieves this by recognizing that they can make a mess of genres, of reality vs hallucination (hello Kylie Minogue as the Green Fairy), of time periods (soundtrack and props that have nothing to do with the year 1900), be as camp and over the top as they wanna be, but if the characters and love story are compelling, we'll all still be riveted.

And that's generally true for every movie. At the end of the day, whatever the genre, we watch first and foremost because someone made us care in some way about at least one of the characters or relationships featured in the film. My fave action movie ever works so well, not because its climax scene is so full of fists (in the middle of a lake at night in total darkness, with the very real threat of the good guy being drowned by the bad one), it hits home because this fight will actually be decided by whether the cold-blooded CIA handler, who had to train the good guy, has come to care enough about him, to be able to tell the two men apart even under these circumstances, and shoot the right person (meaning, the bad guy), saving the protagonist and countless others along the way. It's this test of their (BTW, fully platonic) relationship, that makes up the film's real climax.

So, probably my biggest issue with MS is that it seems to lose sight of that too often. It's so focused on telling us this political mystery, that it forgets at the end of the day, we're here for people and how they feel about and react to each other. The heart of the movie is the relationship between Khem (played by Apo), the entertainer forced to whore himself out, and Chat, the one guy who sees him dancing, but doesn't want just Khem's body. The parts that let their relationship breathe and develop are the best in the movie, they're the ones that feel the most authentic, interesting and impactful. They're the emotional anchor of the whole thing, and even though the movie too often neglects them, and doesn't give them enough time, they just work thanks to Mile and Apo's excellent acting, and their outstanding chemistry. Truly, it's once again a testament of how well these two fit as a team, that they're able to achieve so much, when they're giving too little breathing space for the relationship that is, at the end of the day, the very heart of the film.

The cinematography is great, though I'll admit that I was not that into the colors, I usually like vivid colors, but here they were oversaturated in a way that added a certain sense of heaviness and suffocation to my viewing experience. In a sense, it fits. Man Suang is both beautiful and ugly, alluring and repulsive. Still, I think it would have been a better choice to add the unnatural oversaturation as the ugliness unfolds. First let the viewers be seduced by the beautiful imagery and colors, only then hit them with the ugliness that all of the glitter hides. But then, the movie actually hits us with the ugly bits, with prostitution and murder, in the exposition already. Which makes me think the whole movie could have benefited from a more gradual unfolding of those parts of the entertainment world we're introduced to. Still, I will say that the parts where Khem and Chat get to know each other better, in the market, flying a kite in the field and chatting while climbed up on a tree, they don't have that oversaturation, they get to enjoy more natural lighting, and it gives these scenes a lighter feeling, which does fit. They do seem less burdened in those moments than throughout most of the film. And then the issue with this goes back to... there's just not enough of these scenes, to really give this contrast its own gravitas.

There are scenes which are redundant, they should have been cut out, like when we learn how Tubtim prefers being a whore at Man Suang than outside it. Not that her short monologue isn't touching, but let's be honest, she's not an actual character. She's a plot device, this short scene is only included to set up her change of heart, when she decides to tell Khem the truth, instead of lying. But since this doesn't give her enough depth or her own agency to become a character in her own right, and since she explains her decision to Khem anyway, it's just a waste of time, and it comes at the expense of developing the more emotionally crucial parts of the movie.

And it's not like the movie doesn't know where its emotional weight is. For example, the film's emotional climax, the moment where tensions run highest, is without a doubt the confrontation between Khem and Chat, when they accuse each other of choosing themselves and being willing to sacrifice the other one to do it. It's an effective moment, but I think it would have been so much more powerful, if we got to spend more time seeing Chat and Khem becoming increasingly more important to each other.

For that matter, the real resolution in the movie isn't to the supposed mystery of who has the secret documents and how to get them. It's the resolution of what to do with them, which is where Chat and Khem had clashed. Chat needs the documents destroyed so he and his family won't be punished (possibly killed) for his father's crime. Khem needs the documents delivered to the authorities so that he and his friend won't be punished (possibly killed) for a murder they were framed for. The real resolution of the story is when Khem chooses to burn the documents, so Chat and his family will be safe, and after he leaves, Chat saves them from the flames, and has them delivered, securing Khem's life and reward.

I really liked this part, and again, it felt lighter than the rest of the movie, giving a real sense of relief (visually as well, as there's less oversaturation, and both guys change into nicer outfits, with brighter patches of color). I also enjoyed the more complex POV they offer by the end. They both didn't want the life they were born into. Khem didn't like being of a low socio-economic status, being dependent on the good will of others. Chat didn't want to be a civil servant like his dad. As the movie ends, Khem chooses to stay at Man Suang, turning down the social mobility reward Chat was able to secure for him, while Chatra accepts a position serving his country. Seemingly, they both had to accept their predestined fate. But the fact that they get to choose it now, makes a difference. They see the good they can do, and they're not deprived of humanizing agency. The delivery of this in their dialogues is also quite lovely, with Khem talking about how each type of boat is made for very specific conditions that it must sail, while Chat brings up the fact that now, there are new types of ship, which can defy expectations, and sail in any conditions. They're both right, and they complete each other in describing the place that they ended up in. And the mutual parting, as they both "entrust" something to the care of the other, does reflect their bond.

Still, all of this would have been even more poignant, if this relationship had been given more space. As is, I feel like I even have to guess to a degree why they do care about each other, and why they do end up choosing the other's best interest over their own.

It's a bit clearer with Khem. We see him being exploited for sex, because of his beauty and grace, instead of being seen and appreciated for his talent and hard work. Chat is different. He helps Khem more than once without asking for anything in return, and Chatra also compliments him on his performance. Other than him, there's only one person who seems not to want anything from Khem, his long time friend Wan, but even he ends up betraying and being willing to kill Khem, when Wan doesn't get what he wants from his friend (revenge against all Chinese people). Once more, Chat is different. Yes, he points his revolver at Khem, but he doesn't pull the trigger, he doesn't use the leverage he has in order to force Khem to do what benefits Chat. Instead, he puts down the revolver, and tries to explain himself and his attempt to save his family.

What makes Chat like Khem? I find that a bit harder to answer, though there's a clear and real interest there, which goes beyond Chat's secret mission with the documents. He saves Khem from being discovered during their first meeting, and doesn't ask for anything in return. Chat pays attention to Khem at rehearsals, to his dancing, to his tendency of getting into trouble when not backing down at the face of bullying or injustice... So we can assume Chatra likes all of that. And then he does explicitly express his interest, when he admits to Khem he wanted them to spend that time together at the market.

Which I guess brings me to the question of... okay, so is this a love story? Their relationship is obviously vital to the story, but is it a romantic one? The movie seems to wanna leave it open to interpretation. Maybe it's my hopeless romantic streak, I do wanna see it as a love story. I think there are some hints for that. The mutual interest and liking, even at the stage when they've barely spoken to each other, the way they end up choosing each other even at the possible cost of their own life, the explicit admission from Chat that he was looking to spend time with Khem at the market even when it didn't appear to have anything to do with his secret mission, the way Chat's admission seems to not only make Khem happy, he looks shaken up, there's the kite flying scene, which is played for laughs (flying a kite is apparently Thai slang for jerking off), but still, it's a choice that the movie made, to add a layer of sexual tension there. And then there's the scene where they're trying to figure out who's the woman in red if no one was wearing red on the night they're investigating. Chat steps into the spot where the woman had been, his shirt white, and red light is projected over him. Khem stands in front of him, and they stare at each other for a moment. To me, it serves a double purpose. One is that Khem realizes Chat just handed him the solution to that part of the mystery. The other is that films often illuminate characters in red to show lust and even love. So this might also be a moment when it hits Khem that his feelings for Chat, who's been helping him, who he trusts, run deeper than he realized.

I do think Man Suang would have been braver and better if it had openly gone with the romantic interpretation. It's not just me being an incurable romantic. I also think that, much like in MR, the relationship that changes the course of the two main characters has to be a really strong one, enough for one to decide to give up his life for the other. I'm not sure that friendship quite cuts it, especially when this relationship didn't have that much time to develop (def not enough screen time, but also not enough in-story time). Was love between two men back then a simple thing to admit to? Of course not. But men did fall in love, and even acted on it. I'm not talking here full blown sex. But enough that the audience would know for sure what they feel for each other. On a local TV show, I was reminded that when the small fingers of two people, who are forbidden from any physical connect, do touch, even briefly... something that small and fleeting can still be a confession of deep love and yearning.

Another thing I wish they'd done is make more use of the unspoken tension created by one man dancing to the beat struck by another one. This was so present and delicious in the first teaser released for Mileapo's movie (before it even had a name and a script), I wish they had retained that. It's somewhat present (Khem says he danced so well, thanks to the beat Chat set for him, and then in the scene exposing Tiang, it's Chat's change in drumming that sets the stage for Khem revealing the treason through dance and song), but could have been used so much more. The play between real life and art, the connectedness or contrast between the two men when they're on the same page versus when they're not... There's so much potential for non-verbal drama, and they captured it beautifully in that teaser, so why is it almost non-existent in the film?

I also... I know that the movie is set in the 19th century, and I don't expect 21st century tolerance to be projected back onto it, but I find it hard to ignore that we have one character spew homophobic shit, Khem denying having had sex with another man, basically agreeing it's wrong, and at the same time, men exploiting other men sexually is not looked away from, it's very explicit and built into Khem's story. Each one of these things can be true in its way (there was homophobia, people did have to go with it, there was male on male exploitation alongside this homophobia), but when every explicit thing in this context is negative, while the one positive (the possible love story between Chat and Khem) remains implicit and optional at best, it feels like it unintentionally leans into the homophobic narrative. Take Brokeback Mountain for example. The environment in that movie is highly homophobic, prejudiced, rude and even violent about it. And while Jack and Ennis had a lifelong love story, they couldn't actually live it out in the open because of said homophobia. Ennis in particular would rather punch a guy, than admit Jack was the love of his life. And still, we got to see their love, we got to see that even with all of the societal hardships, it brought them warmth and comfort, and was a reason to risk a lot, even for Ennis, who was so acutely aware of the threat to their lives. I like that BBM was honest in depicting Ennis and Jack having sex, but at the end of it, even without those scenes, the love between them was enough of a counterweight, that it never felt like the movie unintentionally reinforced a negative view of what two men can have together. With MS, I feel like a homophobic casual viewer, who won't get that Chat and Khem saved each other through something that might be more than just friendship, could easily have their negative view reaffirmed.

All in all, I enjoyed MS. I loved seeing Mile and Apo acting together again, I missed that, and their chemistry is just as superb as ever. I'm not sure the movie, getting as distracted from the main relationship as it did, would have worked without their unique addition of beautiful acting and chemistry. So, I would recommend it to friends, but I guess I would also really love to see a better paced, edited and re-focused version of it. Shine, Mileapo's show that will follow in the footsteps of MS, might deliver that. I can't wait to see! ^u^

(if you're curious about any of my other Mileapo/Kinnporsche posts, you can find them here)

[adamwatchesmovies]

Wonka (2023)

Wonka practically steps onto the stage and declares itself a new favorite. When the film was announced, it was met with skepticism. We’ve already had two adaptations of Roald Dahl’s Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. Going back to see how the book’s most memorable character became who he is felt like a desperate attempt to cram more chocolate down an already-filled stomach. Here’s what the naysayers should’ve paid attention to, however: writer/director Paul King. I know you loved Paddington and its sequel, Paddington 2. Everything that made those films great – except for the titular bear – is present here, along with catchy musical numbers. This is a lovingly assembled film the whole family will eat up.

After an extended journey around the world gathering the rarest ingredients and learning everything there is to know about sweets, Willy Wonka (Timothée Chalamet) dreams of establishing his own chocolate shop. Unfortunately, his initial trip to the Galéries Gourmet sees him pushed out by the “Chocolate Cartel”. Shortly after, he’s swindled out of his savings and forced into indentured servitude by Mrs. Scrubbit (Olivia Colman) and her co-worker, Bleacher (Tom Davis). He’ll be doing laundry for the next twenty-five years unless he can settle his debts. The only way to do that is to become the chocolatier he's always dreamed of becoming.

Wonka has been called a “companion piece” to 1971’s Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory but come on. It's a prequel. Two songs are reprised/expanded upon, several visual cues are ported over and Chalamet’s portrayal of the titular character is reminiscent of Gene Wilder’s. If you were to watch the films back-to-back, however, you would spot certain inconsistencies. Some, there’s no way you could’ve worked around, such as the character Hugh Grant plays. I won’t spoil what his part in the film is (even though he is on the poster) but if you were to watch this movie before the original, he would give away one of the latter’s biggest surprises. There’s also an aspect of Wonka’s character that’s a bit off. I personally think people label WW&tCF as being much darker and scarier than it is but you can understand why people would call it frightening, or "a gateway to children’s horror". This film has no cynicism or darkness in it whatsoever. It’s one of the reasons why it works so well but if this film is indeed a prequel, that's an inconsistency.

With those minor complaints out of the way, let’s talk about the many ways Wonka succeeds. First, the cast and tone. There are many villains in this movie. Keegan-Michael Key plays the corrupt, chocolate-addicted Chief-of-Police. Paterson Joseph is Arthur Slugworth, the leader of the Chocolate Cartel. He, along with his cohorts Gerald Prodnose (Matt Lucas) and Felix Fickelgruber (Mathew Baynton) are not above sending innocent people to be enslaved or even murdered. Then, there’s the extended Cartel, which includes a small, but funny role for Rowan Atkinson. Finally, the combo of Mrs. Scrubitt's & Bleacher. On paper, these characters are quite sinister - even children are being enslaved by Scrubitt and Bleacher. Despite that, you kind of… like them. They're all delightfully ridiculous and quirky. You can tell the performers are having a blast hamming it up – in the best way. They’re all evil. They all love being evil. You love seeing them do their thing.

Nearly everyone we meet is more eccentric than anyone in real life could ever be - including the other "inmates" at Scrubbit's boarding house (played by Jim Carter, Natasha Rothwell, Rich Fulcher and Rakhee Thakrar), except for the friend Wonka makes once all his money is stolen: an orphan named Noodle (Calah Lane). She’s in a worse spot than anyone else, which makes her apprehensive and cynical but also most receptive to the idea of hope once Wonka gets going. You can bet that by the end, all of the heroes will have played an important part in the story, even if their skills seem to make them kind of useless. Seeing how they fit in the big picture is part of the fun.

Between the big laughs and musical numbers, we get scenes of magic and wonder - the kind you can only in worlds where people spontaneously burst into dance. There's something so earnest about Wonka. It knows exactly what it wants to be and isn't afraid of going for it. Paul King takes single gags and turns them into characters for the sake of a big punchline at the end. You can tell from the way the story flows that's going to be the case and there's almost a sense of suspense as you wonder what's going to happen with that. Wonka pokies fun at itself more than once but is willing to be serious when the scene calls for it. That's what makes it, why it's a great prequel to Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory.

Wonka is the kind of movie I wish we’d see more often. You think back to the movies you used to see as a child and it feels like we used to get ones like this all the time but actually, we didn't. Movies like this one are rare, it's just that they're so much fun you never forget them and they get passed down from generation to generation so it feels like there's this large library you had before and haven't been able to add to. Push away any apprehension you might've had initially and you'll see. Wonka fits in with those childhood favorites. (November 22, 2024)

[tubbytarchia]

todays stream..... im watching the vod in 1.5x speed because i forgot to watch. another long one.................................

jim and oli meet up immediately. they go to jimmys graveyard and olis died a bunch and he called himself mrs canary. blond boyfriends is "one night only" and oli said no flower husbands. they started making jokes about closing tumblr and ao3..... blond boyfriends are dead </3 jimmy then says they dont spend their evenings browsing those sites then oli says speak for yourself im mr wattpad

oli says "put on something sexy" for the talent show because both of them forgot to make skins for it. jimmy says hes not putting on the maid one (oli: i will) then oli suggests they both put on maid skins. grrrrr

(oli: why dont you want to be a maid? why dont you want to be a maid? you loved it you had a thumbnail about it and everything, you loved it, you loved it! stop pretending you didnt love it!

jimmy: i only do it on special occasions...... i only wear the maid dress one time on one series....... i cant do it twice........

oli: yeah but this is a different character, this is blond boyfriend jimmy, its like a whole different action figure!

jimmy: right, right, ill put it on.)

then they ask chat to make oli a maid skin since he doesnt have one. specifically with the same face as jimmys (the derpy face) then they realise they need an invisiblity potion for their talent show thing so they go to steal one from pixs furious cocktail machine. they go material gathering for more talent show stuff and split up.

(he kept making spongebob references. i think im going insane)

they meet back up. on the way jimmy goes to sausages house to steal some milk and he sees saus so he stabs him and runs away. oli found a weird pillager looking base in sausages house and shows jimmy to see how he would react to it. (u know how his voice goes when hes lying? Yeah) then after talking for a bit about who they think is a pillager (lizzie) they split up again.

they meet up again and switch skins to their maid ones,,, then they start practising their dance for the talent show. not a lot happens other than flirting and oli theatening to kill himself if they lose. then they head over to the talent show and oli sings a gay little song on the way. he tries to make it sound less gay but it turns into sounding like a one night stand.

they arrive and sausage admires the outifts and asks if they want to work at the tavern later. oli says yes (only if they dont win) and jimmy doesnt say anything about it. they take their seats and jimmy sits in front of scott. hes standing on the back of the stair instead of the front so scott asks him to move so hes not blocking scotts view. jimmy says not my fault im 6 foot so scott hits him and he ends up landing on the back of the seat in front (which is eloises). eloise hits him back. he gets hit around a bit (notably laughing) then scott pulls his sword out and asks out loud how much of a blockage a grave will be. jimmy then shakes his head and goes please no i dont have any armour on :( and scotts like haha i know. then the talent show starts

mog introduces the show and prays for no deaths. first event with no deaths. please. he reads a poem for his pet sweetpea that died. its actually really good but the fact that its about a minecraft bee does make me giggle. the judges are fwhip, eloise, and katherine. not entirely people who hate jimmy.... he has a chance....... how the judging works is the 3 judges have redstone lamps that are ON and if they turn them OFF they dont like the act. if all 3 lamps turn off you have to leave the stage.

first act is shubble :) she makes cat jokes. i think theyre funny. fwhip turns off his lamp and shubble says "quit the catattitude". eloise also turns off her light. she ends her performance with 1 light on!

sausage goes next...... hes doing a play about boat boys. joel audibly sighs in the audience. sausage is wearing an etho skin and drags joel on stage. saus tries to get joel to say he loves etho but joel just goes I LOVE MY WIFE!! lizzies in the audience and she doesnt react at all. "etho" then goes on to say they have a kid together. then it ends with 2 lights on. (technically 1 but katherine turned off eloises light. then eloise turned off fwhips light but he turned it back on.)

then oli and jimmy go!!! fwhip turns off his light almost immediately but they basically just make puppy dog eyes at him until he turns it back on. they start with their dancing and they get the audience to join in. its much more organised than the rehersals. then they go onto the disappearing act. fwhip turned his light off again but eloise and katherine seem to be loving it. jimmy splashes himself with the invisiblity potion (and accidentally catches oli in it) then runs behind the seats and drinks milk. eloise turned her light off too :( but katherine and the audience really like it. they try to do their drowning act but theres a conduit power which makes it less interesting. they end the performance with 1 light on.....

then its mogs turn! hes. racing people. and jumping very high. then he starts flying. i genuinely think hes hacking and i respect the dedication to the bit. then he starts walking on water. i think he ended with all 3 lights on.

judging time....... notable thing is katherine gave oli and jim a 10/10.

IN A SHOCKING TURN OF EVENTS. JIMMY AND OLI WON. EVERYONE SAY THANK YOU KATHERINE FOR SABOTAGING MOGS SCORE FOR THE BIT.

1st: oli&jim. 2nd: shubble. 3rd: mog. 4th: saus. fwhip gives jimmy his coin and jim says thanks daddy fwhip. jimmy goes home and is very happy about it :) then he ends........ new sos video saturday and next stream is monday :P

long recap again.... this ones kinda all over the place cuz i was typing while watching. i equally love blond boyfriends and also want oli 100ft away from jimmy at all times

man oh man... the adventures of the blonde boy friends

Ok the maid dress......... I'm not too upset by it because I accept Oli joining in with the maid outfit thing as a valid form of helping Jimmy heal. Not that Oli INTENDS to do that (he's too stupid) but... Him insisting "you loved it! You did!" makes me want to throw up but he's stupid. He's his own fucked up thing who I don't see as participating in the Jimmy "bottom of the food chain" bullying culture. He puts himself down on that food chain alongside Jimmy... unintentionally, still, but. Mmmgh. If it were, say, Sausage instead whototallydoesnthaveamaidkink saying this... It'd be another story and I might just throw myself out the window

Oli's fooling around and I still hate his insistence on Jimmy liking the maid ordeal (and even here, Jimmy is voicing the opposite!! sobs) but then he goes and puts on a maid dress too. It might be unsubstantial fun and jokes for him, but at least Jimmy's not alone on that now in a sense... Even the derpy face is the same... And same with "I'm mrs canary now". It's more "haha we both suck" and less "you suck/I suck almost as bad as you". More affectionate and less derogatory

Oli saying he'll kill himself if they lose kinda sucks because Jimmy frequently gets blamed for failures of groups he's part of, and if not, he might just blame himself and apologize anyway. But at the same time if they did lose, I cannot imagine Oli blaming it on Jimmy. He'd only address it as them both being equally at fault. Shared failure... The bar is really low ok

OF COURSE Sausage is there to admire them OF COURSE Sausage whototallydoesnthaveamaidkink is asking them to work at the tavern. Fuckass sorry I'm gonna hold myself back in case any Sausage fans are reading this. Sorry Sausage fans. I don't hate you ok. and Jimmy not saying anything in response even when Oli said yes... he has trauma guys he has such trauma I cant fucking make this up its right there. This is making me so sad. Jimmy choking up.... Even if he were to voice displeasure he'd just be shot down again. Sausage won't take no for an answer and Oli being Oli would probably encourage Jimmy too. Unfortunately. This sucks

There's something about Joel here too but I actually can't talk about it I'm serious even Tumblr will cancel me

I can't tell you how fucking happy I am that they won though so that 1. Oli doesn't kill himself and 2. They don't have to go work at the tavern as is evident is against Jimmy's wishes anyway. He doesn't have to relive his trauma. Katherine you have no idea what you've done I love you Katherine

Also thank you Jimmy for stabbing Sausage. Deserved

[hawkinspostnewspaper]

STRANGER THINGS: THE FIRST SHADOW SPOILERS - JOYCE MALDONADO

here is a compilation of all things I can recall from the play involving Joyce Maldonado

also to note: some things I am still a little confused about and will need to verify when I see it again soon. I will update as I rememeber things!

Joyce is in charge of directing the high school's musical for the season, directing her fellow schoolmates in her version of 'Dark of the Moon'

As the play revolves around witches and teased by other schoolmates to be about 'lesbians' and sex and all things inappropriate, so they cover it to the principal (Mr Newby, Bob and Patty's father) by pretending to be performing 'Oklahoma'

You can read more about the play here: Dark of the Moon (play) - Wikipedia

She is desperate to be awarded a scholarship for theatre direction as it will be her way out of Hawkins

Her relationship with Lonnie is teased by Walter Henderson who claims she only has eyes for bad boys usually over 25 years old, emphasising their age gap and his misbehaviour

There are few scenes of the two of them to explore their relationship but it is clear he does not believe in her wanting to leave Hawkins and not so supportive of her dream about the theatre scholarship - Lonnie is seen arrested in Hawkins PD too, that bothers Joyce

Bob is said to have a huge crush on Joyce and wants to get involved with the play to interact with her and build confidence to confess, but it seems Joyce is more preoccupied with her own future and getting the play done despite the chaos around her to notice (I will do a separate post for Bob in the play, but the show really emphasises how deeply and how long he loved her, making what happens in the series even worse)

Her opinion of Hopper is that he is lazy and a womaniser and has hurt many girls with his flirtations, though we don't see any of him doing that besides to her (again, I will do another post for Jim) - their relationship throughout the play is very much teasing and underlying hints of flirtation

Joyce, Bob and Hopper end up trying to solve the murder of several pets recently - there is a reward from Claudia Henderson for finding out who killed her pet cat, something Joyce believes Hopper is only in it for rather than to do the right thing

The 'Kids' soundtrack theme plays often when Joyce, Hopper and Bob are on stage together

They are lead to the Creel house, believing Victor to be the murderer

Joyce witnesses Hopper and his father have a fight at the PD when they try and appeal for help and arrest Victor Creel - she asks why he does not stand up to him more and it seems she begins to sympathise with him more here, also as he assures it was not all about the money for him to crack the case but to help and do something good

Hopper offers to drive himself and Joyce out of town, to Mexico or someplace, away from the dull and chaos of Hawkins - we know Joyce wants desperately to leave but she turns down the offer

The pair almost kiss at one point, her hands on his chest but are interrupted by Bob (I think?)

Joyce cast Henry as the lead male principal in her play because of his chemistry with Patty, her female lead - the adults knew Henry in high school

Joyce is pleased when she hears Victor Creel has been arrested, thinking her and Hopper's warning to the PD has helped

She runs into Henry, who all believed was missing since the incident with Patty and Mr Newby at the Creel House - as Hopper and Joyce were in Russia for ST4 they do not yet know what the kids do about Henry being responsible. I can't recall the specific dialogue of this scene but it could be said Joyce has her suspicions after the very tense interaction and then what happens to Patty moments later, Henry then going 'missing' (back in the hands of Brenner) by the end

It could also be inferred that Will was taken because of this interaction, though it doesn't seem to be the intended assumption

An invited guest who runs the scholarship programme attends the play's performance, Joyce is more stressed about controlling her unruly cast but all is well until Patty's tragic accident and she loses the opportunity

It is mentioned she used to work shifts at Enzo's restaurant

Her last scene set four years later in 1963 shows her working at Melvalds, which used to be a bar/diner/hang out spot. Jim visits now in his police training uniform and explains he will be heading out for military/police training/Vietnam

it has to be said that Isabella is an incredibly powerful force in her performance of Joyce and I hope you all get the opportunity to witness it! She has the perfect energy and also sounds so close to Winona without it seeming like a forced impersonation!

[twilightsquire]

Moominvalley Season 4 Episode 1 Spoilers! 🍃

• Mr Brisk and Misabel are back with a circus.

• They lack acts so Mr Brisk decides to audition the others in Moominvalley.

• A lot of the episode is focused on Misabel, she wants to be in the circus but Brisk doesn't listen to her he just gives her more jobs to do 🙁.

• At Moominhouse Moomintroll brings the audition poster home where Moominmamma and Moominpappa reveal they were in the circus many years ago.

• Moominpappa tells Moomintroll the circus is in his blood.

• Snorkmaiden and Little My are also at the house and decide to audition as well.

• At the auctions are also Sniff, Stinky and Snork.

• Misabel attempts to audition but Brisk sends her to check on something. suspicious

• Little My who dislikes Brisk still, leaves and doesn't audition were she finds Misabel with a depressed crocodile in a cage that Brisk caught that morning.

• Moomintroll attempts to audition for ring master but fails miserably due to anxiety.

• Snorkmaiden is successful, Sniff is nearly successful too but doesn't juggle on Saturdays only Wednesdays. Snork has a flea circus that is knocked over when Stinky steals Brisk's hat and the fleas jump all over Stinky.

• Moomintroll attempts to audition again but falls over one of Sniff's juggling balls and ends up as the clown.

• Little My sets the crocodile free, after Misabel says she knows Little My will do the right thing. The croc ends up following her around.

• Brisk tells Snork to be a magician and to invent some magic tricks.

• Misabel makes her way into the show by volunteering to let Snork cut her in half.

• As they practice this act, Snork tries giving Misabel some advice about Brisk.

• Whilst showcasing their act Brisk says it needs more so kicks Misabel out of the show to instead have Snork cut the crocodile in half.

• Misabel panics knowing the Croc gone.

• Moomintroll quit as a clown but Brisk tells him he can do something else.

• Little My takes the crock back to Moominhouse and of course Moominmamma welcome it in.

• Misabel comes to Moominhouse for the croc were Little My tells her to stand up for herself agaisnt Brisk.

• Moomintroll's new role is pretend to be a lion in a lion costume with Sniff, Moomintroll complains about being the butt so switched with Sniff.

• Brisk bigs himself up in the mirror like the self centred weirdo he is.

• Misabel returns to the circus and resigns telling Brisk the Croc is gone and so is she because Brisk doesn't take her seriously.

• Brisk makes an apology attempt but it is only because he's scared of the crocodile which starts rampaging through the circus hunting him down.

• Audience thinks it's part of the show.

• Misabel trying to chase Brisk runs out on stage where she has the spotlight on her and falls in love with it, but her kind heart tells her she needs to help Brisk.

• The audience is now confused by the chaos.

• Moomintroll runs out and Moominpappa throws him his hat, Moomintroll get to be the ringmaster which is what he wanted.

• The circus goes great with Moomintroll incharge but they lack a finale act.

• Misabel finds Brisk and helps him, she tells him she wants to perform and he finally listens to her, noting that she's super strong which has been hinted at all episode.

• Moominmamma and Moominpappa come out as the finale doing their old routine, their acrobatic act is a success.

• Misabel joins the show by being fired out of a canon and joins the pyramid.

• Croc wants to stay with Little My but she sadly knows he needs to be free and he meets a new crocodile friend.

• Moominmamma holds Little My's hand saying goodbyes are never easy.

Episode Ends 🥰

Also the whole series is up on Now TV so I'll do my best to binge, if I can I'll try and get it on a Google drive for my none UK/ people who don't have Now friends. If I can't do it, I'll continue to make these posts for each episode. ❤️

[housethemd]

Coffeehouse Blues

James Wilson hustles down the lamp lit street, collar up turned to fight the wind blowing at his back. The early November air holds the promise of winter in its chill. He passes the rotting husks of Jack O’ Lanterns, interspersed with too-early Christmas lights.

He’d finished work an hour and a half ago. He’d walked down to diagnostics to look for House, but he and his fellows had already left for the day. He’d tried calling but House didn’t pick up. Not wanting to return to his sad, empty hotel room he’d decided to go for a walk in downtown Princeton. He almost regretted moving out of House’s apartment on nights like these. It was a fact, James Wilson did not do loneliness well.

He’d started therapy recently. A private practice not at all associated with any hospital, a necessity if he didn’t want House to know immediately. After his third divorce he thought maybe is was worth looking into way he was both a serial monogamist and a serial adulterer. Why despite the fact that all three of his wives were everything he was supposed to want, they were never enough to make him happy.

This is what he ponders as he walks and walks the streets of Princeton. His hands are shoved deep in his pockets because he didn’t bring gloves, his ears burn because he doesn’t have a hat. He wasn’t planning an hours long walk when he got dressed this morning, but despite the cold settling in his bones he still doesn’t want to go home.

His nose catches the scent of coffee - good coffee - and he realizes across the street from where he’s standing is a coffeehouse. Warm light pours out the large windows along with the delicious smell. He hasn’t had supper, and coffee at this time of night is never a good idea, but the thought of a hot drink in a cozy cafe has him j-walking across the street.

It’s just as wonderfully warm inside as he’d hoped. The building is a historic house that’s been converted into a cafe, so it stretches out into multiple rooms. The room he is in holds the bar and a few small tables, but there are signs with arrows exclaiming “more seating this way!” He can hear an acoustic guitar being played in one of the other rooms. The place is quite busy, and he realizes that it’s some sort of open mic night. He’s enjoying the music being played, and hopes the other performers are as talented as this one. He plans to stay and drink his coffee, try to warm up, before he heads back to his car to bite the bullet and return to his hotel room.

“Large coffee, dark roast, black, for here please.” He tells the barista when it’s his turn.

He always rehearses his order in his head while waiting in line so he minimizes the time it takes for the person to take his order. He just feels its the polite thing to do.

As he stands and waits for his drink the guitar playing ends. The crowd applauses and after a few moments someone speaks into the microphone.

“That was Jenna Foster everyone. Next up is a name our regulars will remember. Back after a hiatus, Mr. James Callum!” The MC announces just as Wilson is being handed his mug of steaming coffee.

The crowd cheers, clearly happy to have this performer back. He navigates the crowd, moving into the other room where the performance is taking place. He manages to snag a corner table at the back. He can’t see the performer, to many people standing in front of the “stage” area but he doesn’t mind. The coffee mug is warm in his hands and he finally feels some warmth sinking into him as he shrugs off his coat and sits down.

He’s taking his first sip of coffee when the music starts. It’s a slow piano, and as the piece continues it reminds him of some of the pieces House has composed. He isn’t sure if he actually has that good an ear as to pick out House’s music, or if all piano music reminds him of House.

It’s one of the things he misses about living with House. While it’s true that the prank wars were juvenile, and House refusing to do dishes was annoying, there were things that made living with him enjoyable. One of those things was his music. Wilson could easily admit that having House strum his guitar while Wilson cooked, or having him play the piano while Wilson read a book was nice. It felt comfortable and domestic and he missed it almost every night he spend alone in his hotel room.

The music grows to a beautiful crescendo before quieting, and then comes the voice.

“I went down to the St. James Infirmary,

Saw my baby there

She was stretched out on a long, white table

So cool, so sweet, so sweet, so fair,”

That voice stopped Wilson in his tracks. He knew that voice. But, no. There was no way. Absolutely not.

“Let her go, let her go

God bless her

Wherever she may be

She can search this whole wide world over

She won't ever find another man like me,”

He abandoned his table and half drank cup of coffee to push his way to the front of the room. He knew it couldn’t be true. Obviously this was someone who just happened to play and sound very much like his friend. He managed to make it to the second row. Being six feet tall he was able to see over the heads of the people in the first row, and down to the figure seated at the piano.

His jaw dropped. “James Callum” was Gregory House.

“When I die, bury me a straight laced shoes

A box backed suit and a Stetson hat

Put 20 dollar gold piece on my watch chain

So the boys'll know I died standin' pat”

Wilson couldn’t believe it. House rarely sang, even at home. He had a beautiful voice, so suited to the bluesy music he prefers, but for some reason he didn’t like to accompany his playing with his voice. Yet here he was, singing for a bunch of strangers. He used a fake name sure, but still, he was singing. Something Wilson knew was outside his comfort zone.

As the song came to a close House looked up from the keys and looked out at the crowd. He looked eyes with Wilson, face falling blank for a moment. Wilson gave him a huge smile, wanting House to know how proud he was. After a moment House returned the smile with a big one of his own.

House’s big smiles didn’t look like big smiles to anyone who didn’t know him. They only involved half his mouth, the right side turning up and showing his teeth while the left side remained mostly neutral, like his muscles didn’t quite know how to form a smile. Wilson thought maybe that was true, maybe House had smiled so little in his life that his facial muscles didn’t know how. That just meant that every time he got to see that perfect, lopsided smile it made his heart skip a beat because he knew getting to see it made him special.

House turned back to the piano, starting another bluesy tune. Wilson retrieved his mug and coat off the back table, moving to stand and sip his coffee so he could watch his best friend play. House did three more songs before his time slot was up. Afterwards he limped over to where Wilson was standing, leaning in close to be heard over the MC and the chatty crowd.

“I’ll let you come over if you buy me a pizza” House said, blue eyes locking with his and then glancing away, a sign Wilson knew meant House was nervous.

“Sounds like a fair deal to me.”

They exited the busy coffeehouse, walking shoulder to shoulder until they got to House’s car. He drove Wilson to his car as he was parked almost 30 minutes away by foot, and they bid each other temporary farewell.

Climbing into his Volvo, Wilson couldn’t help smiling to himself. He has no idea what it says about him that he’s only truly happy when he’s spending time with his best friend, supposes it’s something he should bring up in therapy.

But for now he has a pizza to buy, and he wants to think up a way to wrangle a personal encore out of House after dinner.

[starrrling]

TASK 005: THE TALENT SHOW

"Y'know, I had to retune my guitar for this, you guys..."

Richard got her the guitar for her fourteenth birthday, and she named it Desdemona. It was a vintage Taylor, exactly like she’d asked for, an electro-acoustic Dreadnought in whiskey sour. She’d loved it fiercely for years, irritating everybody on the third floor (Reece didn’t like the sound-proof music room in the basement—not enough light) with her covers of Liz Phair, The Cure, No Doubt. 

How many Fridays in a row were the wards treated to a breakfast performance from Reece, singing “I don’t care if Monday’s blue…!” into her cereal spoon? (That was after Richard made a rule about Reece not bringing her boombox down to the breakfast table, but before Mrs. Tristan made a rule that Reece could only eat cereal with her hands—a rule which lasted all the way through 1992.)

Desdemona remained behind at the Woodrow House when Reece moved out, replaced by her more portable electric Jaguar, Jenny. But she had Desdemona with her again now, still spangled with faded stickers, just a little bit too big for her to comfortably cradle sitting down. She wanted to tell herself that something about it just felt right. She didn’t want to think about the fact that she’d forgotten the Jaguar at the apartment that she was not sure she could go back to, the apartment she’d shared with Jack and from which she’d fled to Alison’s car with only the essentials. But Jenny had been an essential, and Reece had forgotten. 

So she had Desdemona in hand when she stepped into the pool of golden light in the spare room, onto a sort of stage they’d set up, because they were doing a talent show. Reece was plaintively aware of her status as entirely unextraordinary in comparison to the vast majority of the other wards; rather than brimming with potential, she’d been a lost soul, somebody to be saved. 

“Last January,” Reece said, moving to the mic, squinting a little against the light, her smile self-effacing, “when D was driving me to rehab—that long, quiet drive downstate, y’know, hours where you don’t see a single other soul on the road—he turned on the radio. Switched it from static to NPR, sort of mindlessly, but they were talking about Bush’s second inauguration, which made me want to drink, so I changed the station until I got to one playing Green Day. This song. The chorus came on, and there’s this part, right, where Billie Joe Armstrong rhymes the word ‘again’ with itself, a little clumsy. So, when he heard that, Richard sort of frowned, and he said, ‘Adverb epiphora in a chorus? That makes me want to drink.’ So, this is for him. Just the verses.”

The song’s main riff itself was simple enough, a lot of 0-2-3 stuff around the fifth and sixth chords, quick and twangy and vaguely hypnotic. A few repeating counts of just that sound in the quiet, her calloused fingers plucking at the strings in rote memory, and then Reece began to sing. Her voice was somehow both dulcet and hoarse; she didn’t think she had the kind of voice that anyone really needed to hear, but when had that ever stopped her?

Summer has come and passed,  the innocent can never last, wake me up when September ends. 

Richard had signed her up for singing lessons shortly after she arrived at Woodrow (“What she lacks in discipline, she makes up for in volume,” the instructor had told Richard once); then followed piano, percussion, guitar, music theory. When she started really learning to write music at 15, it was euphoric, like her skull had split clean open, but her actual aspirations for her future remained vague. Maybe she never really believed that she was talented enough to get very far, or maybe she just couldn’t picture any future version of herself that was successful, capable, exceptional. She wandered her way through a few years of majoring in ‘recorded music’ at NYU, and she ended up as a dropout guitar teacher in Staten Island. 

Like my father’s come to pass,  seven years has gone so fast, wake me up when September ends. 

The song, she knew, was so absurdly apt, almost too on-the-nose. It seemed somehow like the safest option for her performance, like the plain honesty of the song would keep every other true thing that Reece didn’t want everyone to know from pushing past her lips when she stepped onto the stage. Reece was trying very hard to make herself opt for whatever the safest option was, but it was behavior that didn’t come naturally to her at all. 

Ring out the bells again, like we did when Spring began wake me up when September ends. 

Her voice was too loud in her own ears; her exposed skin felt sunburnt from the spotlight’s glare. She was too terribly present, so here and now exactly when she didn’t want to be, exactly when she didn’t know if she could handle it. It was as if Reece could suddenly see her whole life condensed, a series of saviors and nosedives, the bleakness of who she was when nobody else was around to hear her. The word curse was lodged behind her uvula, it was catching between her two front teeth. Richard was dead, and she was starting to wonder if maybe it mattered that she was a lost cause who was probably completely doomed.