#one time he stole a donut from me

[pancho-y-reuben]

He wants my cinnamon bun so bad it makes him look stupid

(He snatched it right after I took this)

[justanotherfanfolks]

For the past few months, I’ve had this silly little headcanon/scenario for the 4th Birthday Line card art (the original, not the groovies) that I want to share now that we have everyone.

I like to imagine these pictures are like, official pictures the museum staff took of them. And considering this is a very fancy looking museum, uhhh, roll text:

Two Museum Workers:

“Wow, a visit from students of the prestigious Night Raven College!” (What could possibly go wrong?)

“Ok, I got the camera! Let’s take their photos!”

“Alright, beautiful! Perfect!”

“Excellent! Wonderful!”

“Ah lovely!” 

“This is easier than I thought!”

“Is- is that a macaron? I’m sorry, we have a strict no eating policy. Did he come in with that?”

“Why’s he posing with it?”

“He’s got a whole assorted platter of donuts! Seriously, how are they getting in here with that stuff!?”

“Kid, we’re already taking your picture! Why are you taking a selfie?”

“Are you yawning!? Hang on, we’ll take another- HEY COME BACK!”

“Did he get that chair from our security office? How’d he get in there?”

“Says he got permission? I mean it checks out, but how?”

“Please, no drinks in- is that a flying carpet?!”

“Wait, is that pedestal from our Olympus exhibit? How did he get that?!”

“Where did he get all of those?! Is that where the other kid got his from? Hey buddy, we have a strict no eating- where did he go?”

“Took the stool with him.”

“Why does he, hey, why do you have a whole platter of cupcakes? For Waka-sama? Listen, I don’t know who this- AGH HE’S LOUD! Fine, we'll take it like this. No, I don’t want you to regale me with tales about him!”

“Oh my gosh, it’s Vil Schoenheit!”

“He stole one of our chairs-”

"He can keep it! Take the picture!"

"How did he get a whole tart in here?! No! NO! WHO IS CHECKING THE GUESTS IN?!”

“Hey, no magic next to the paintings!”

“Should the fact this one has the carpet now concern me?”

“What the- where did he get that? Is that from our display?”

“Why do they keep grabbing the decor?”

“FINALLY! FINALLY A NORMAL BOY! THANK YOU! THANK YOU!”

“Did- did he just fall asleep?”

“I got the shot, just move him over.”

“Is that a robot?”

“Who cares, he’s not breaking the rules, take the shot!”

“He has a cupcake, should we say something?”

“No no, that’s Malleus Draconia. If he wants a cupcake, he gets the cupcake.”

"You know what? He's fine! He doesn't have any food! He's smiling politely! The stool gives him better height anyway!"

"OK I got the shot, but he's kind of staring at you now."

“Ok, for the last time, THERE IS NO FOOD ALLOWED ON THE PREMISES!”

“Ok, say cheese! Three, two-”

*sets off party popper*

“AAAAAHHHHHHHH!!!”

“Ok , you know what! I’m done! I’M DONE! These NRC boys are too much for me! Have you seen the way they’re staring and smirking at the paintings, there’s something wrong with them!”

[buckyalpine]

Spicy Snacks

Bucky x reader, Steve 

Warnings: 2 high super soldiers who get into your stash of spicy snacks, fluffff 

“Dear god” 

You weren’t sure what it was you were going to walk into when you heard a ruckus in the kitchen but it was everything but this. Literally anything. The last time you’d seen such a mess was when Peter thought it’d be a good idea to babysit Morgan alone. Even that was salvageable. You should’ve known how bad it would be, given the trail of crumbs you followed from your drawer to the kitchen, but still. 

This was something else...

There were snacks strewn about left, right and center. Bags of chips and candy littering every inch of the counter tops. 

But what truly topped it all were the two massive super soldiers sitting cross cross apple sauce on top of the kitchen island, giggling like school children with their hands, literally in the cookie jar. 

“Who stole the cookie from the cookie jar” Steve sang to himself while stuffing a chocolate chip one into his mouth, practically swallowing it whole. 

“Steve stole the cookie from the cookie jar” Bucky snickered, taking the jar for himself and scarfing them down two at a time. 

“Who me?”

“Yes you!”

“Not me!”

“Then who?” 

“What are you two idiots doing” Your voice broke them away from their nursery rhyme, staring at your boyfriend first before turning to his bestfriend, the both of them trying to hide the jar behind their backs. 

“Nothing’ y/n” Steve gave you a dopey grin, his baby blue eyes glazed like donuts, snickering at his bestfriend attempting to stab an apple juice box with the straw.

“S’too hard!!” Bucky whined, sticking his tongue out in concentration, eyes wide, trying to get his straw in to no avail, looking back up to you for help. He gave you his most innocent puppy pout hoping you’d help him, sticking his hands out for you to take his juice. 

“Bucky get down” You huffed, trying to hide your smile when he clambered down like an admonished child with his head hung. You rolled your eyes, pushing the straw and giving it back to him, shaking your head at the grin he gave you, whispering a shy thank you. 

“Ooooooo you like herrrrrr” Steve howled, now kicking his feet, letting them hang off the counter while Bucky blushed, peeking at you through his lashes. “BUCKY HAS A CRUSH” 

“Nooooo” He drawled out, taking a long sip from his juice box. 

“We’ve been dating for 2 years you dork” You watched his cheeks redden more, which only made him more adorable but you weren’t sure how much more nonsense was going to ensue when the both of them were higher than kites. 

“She’s my girlfriend” Bucky giggled at the last word, now struggling with a new box while Steve’s eyes lit up, a classic God awful captain America plan had bean to manifest itself. He slipped off the counter, the effects of the gummies and whatever else he’d swallowed had knocked his agility off its rockers; he moved with the grace of a donkey. 

“Where are you going” you stopped him before he could sneak off, your boyfriend looking equally guilty. 

“Noooowhere” Steve shrugged but you gave him a pointed look while Bucky flailed his hands, hoping to silently communicate they were not about to do something idiotic. 

“Sit down. Finish your snacks and then you both need to go take a nap” You felt like you were talking to toddlers, not bothering to add they had to clean their mess because you were sure that would only end in more chaos. 

“But we were gonna go flying with Sam’s wings!” 

“I can’t believe I’m saying this” You muttered to yourself, pinching the bridge of your nose before speaking again, “No. You can’t just go take Sam’s wings and go flying. Now finish your juice boxes and go to bed” 

“NOOOO” Steve jumped onto Bucky, wrapping his long legs around his waist, holding onto him like a massive koala, giving you his best puppy eyes, matching his equally ridiculous best friend. “WE DON’T WANNA GO TO BED” 

“Boys....”

“Please???” Bucky pouted effortlessly holding the captain up while your face scrunched up, mentally face palming yourself.

“No. No, you cannot go flying! You’ll end up hurting yourself or breaking the wings or- for fucks sake what are you doing?!” You gawked; Steve and Bucky had stopped listening many moons ago. They were back to rummaging for food, a stray sour patch kid falling to the floor. 

“5 second rule” Bucky shrugged, bending over to pick it up, not seeing the smirk that crossed his bestfriends face. 

“Chubby dumpling” Steve whispered, giving Bucky’s ass a poke, making him yelp. Bucky stared at him like a deer in headlights while Steve cackled to himself, tossing back another packet of nerds into his mouth. You were to engrossed at the scene in front of you to notice Tony walk in, his face equally perplexed at yours. 

“What it God’s name” Tony stared at the chaos that was taking place with you in the middle, “Do I even want to ask?”

“They got into my stash of....snacks...” You smirked while Tony cocked an eyebrow, waiting for you to elaborate. 

“Snacks, y/n? Really?”

“...Spicy snacks”

“Who would’ve thought this would be their downfall” He mused beside you “Oh-I think clothes are coming off-oh fuck” Tony ducked while Steve's shirt flew above his head, eyes growing wide when a pair of jeans followed.

“It’s so hot!!” Steve huffed, star fishing on the cool tile floor, arms and legs splayed out to the sides. “Soooo hottttt, n’I’m sleepy now” He yawned, stretching out like a cat before closing his eyes, a sugar crash sneaking up on them.  

“Okay, someone call for this ones bromantic partner to figure this out” Tony covered his eyes while calling for Sam, hoping to get Steve into some clothes before hauling him back to his room. “Y/n, I’m assuming you got terminator covered?” 

“Yeah, I- Oh no” you were met with your boyfriends Henley, followed by his joggers, landing on your head, squealing when you found yourself hanging off his shoulder seconds later. 

“Buck, where are we going?!” He mumbled something while making his way to the elevator in just his boxer briefs. 

“S’nap time” he mumbled sleepily, trudging with you to the bedroom and plopping down on top of you, using your chest as a pillow. “wan cuddles” 

“Mhm, then you get cuddles, baby boy” you giggled, carding your fingers through his hair, unable to stop smiling from how ridiculously adorable he was. He let out a content sigh, softly snoring moments later. You bit you lip to keep your laughs down, hearing the commotion outside your room in the hallway. 

“Steve, you need to put on pants”

“Pants are for the WEAK”

“No-Steve NO!-don’t take off your-for fucks sake” 

“THIS IS AMERICAS ASS”

“That’s America’s cock and balls” 

“Please, for the love of God, go to your room” 

“I’M GOING TO MAKE A TIKTOK” 

“Steve no”

“Steve yes”

“STEVE” 

“What’s the live feature” 

*Sounds of Steve shrieking and then a thump with continued muffled pouting*

“You’re never eating spicy anything again” 

[t-folklore13]

Sleep, I’m not going anywhere - Eddie Munson

*

18+ MDNI

Summary: you get sick and your bestfriend Eddie helps you get better

Warnings: vomiting, mild cussing

Not proof read wrote this at 2:00am

Best friends to lovers

I wake up and immediately feel like shit. My body aches, head hurts, nose is absolutely stuffed and runny which makes no sense. I roll over and see 6:30 flash across my alarm clock. I have time to get ready and its hellfire tonight anyways so might as well tough it out through the day.

I slowly get up and move like a zombie to get ready. I put my hair in a bun and start really getting ready, As I’m picking out pants to wear with the “Mandatory attire’ as Eddie calls it i can hear him down the road

How do I know it’s him? No one else is gonna listen to slayer at the ass crack of dawn in the middle of winter. He turns the radio down and I can hear the door bell. The muffled voice of my mom is greeting Eddie and he’s being as charming as always when the door flys open, donut in hand one for me and one for him. “hey I got this for you from the kitchen… are you okay?” I take the food out of of his hand and smile “I’m fine but we should get going dont wanna ruin your perfect attendance”

He fake smiles and flips me off and I know it might be a good day, oh how wrong was I.

When we get to the front of the school I rush inside and Eddie looks confused running after me. I run into the girls bathroom and start throwing up what little food I had in my system. I hear a knock on the stall and turn around “Eddie your not supposed be in here” someone laughs and I open the stall confused “oh hey robin sorry i thought you were eddie’

“It’s okay he actually sent me in here to check on you though he said he “cannot pass the gates of women privacy” or whatever so he found me and sent me in” I smile weakly and she hands me water “thanks” I drink half of it and sigh ‘is he still out there?” She nods and shuffles around in her bag giving me gum “that should make you feel better for now do you want to go to the nurse?”

“No I have a test in O’Donnell and hellfire tonight I can manage” she hugs me and the bell rings “shoot I gotta go but promise you’ll at least get medicine”

“yeah I can do that” the late bell rings and we walk out of bathroom “hey are you okay? You totally scared me” I smile and nod “Yeah I’m fine but we gotta go we have a test remember?” He groans loudly and I laugh. We both walk to class and I try to keep my happy front up

*

Lunch finally rolls around and I just want to try to eat something. I feel someone grab my hand and instantly know it’s Eddie, we walk in silence till we enter the cafeteria “hey you sit down I’ll get you something

“What about you” I look up at him and he shrugs “I’ll just steal from mike and Dustin I’m sure whatever their moms packed is enough”. I smile and walk over to the table finding somewhere to sit, placing my head on it I don’t know how much time passes but I suddenly feel an arm around me then Gareth and Jeff arguing about who can sit where Eddie sits. “here you go my fine lady lunch is served and I stole cranberry juice for you from wheeler”

I take the food and start eating when I get super tired and just lean on eddies chest after a debate on what Eddie had planned for the campaign I hear “hey dude she’s asleep” I want to open my eyes and show them I’m in fact not asleep but cannot find the energy to do so when i feel Eddie shaking my shoulder then feel my head “Oh shit she’s burning up” I feel a cold sensation on the back of my neck and smile snuggling into Eddie further. “Hey sweetheart wake up we’re going to the office”

“What for?” he lifts me up and we start walking “I’m taking you home” I want to argue but I can’t I’m too tired and my bed doesn’t sound like a bad idea right now “hey we are gonna leave she isn’t feeling well” The office lady looks at me holding onto Eddie then him “she looks sick and will be excused but you will not’ I hear him scoff and scribble on some paper “I’m over eighteen I can do whatever I damn please and if I wanna take care of my girl I will, so we’re leaving” I must really be sick because I just hallucinated Eddie calling me his girl

Eddie opens the door and the air feels great against my hot skin. I try to talk but mumble instead and Eddie just picks me up “We’re almost there sweetheart okay hold tight the office called your mom and said I’m with you its okay” I hear the door open and he places me into the van I fully fall asleep and the last thing I feel is Eddie rubbing my leg.

I start to wake up and look around but it’s really dark in my room, just then Eddie walks in with soup, medicine, and more blankets “hey I didn’t know if you had a migraine so I kept it dark but you need to eat so I made you soup” I look at him while he sets everything down and smile “thank you Ed’s how long have I been out?”

“Only an hour but your mom called and said she’s stuck in Illinois because of weather so I’m staying here and taking care of you” I partly take in the information and reach for the soup but stop and lay back down “you need help sweetheart?” I I mumble and he starts to hand feed me the soup

My throat suddenly burns and I start having a coughing fit, Eddie rubs my back and holds my hair “hey you wanna lay back down?” I take a deep breath and cough again “yes” as I lay down I hear him getting up and shuffling away, so I grab his arm and grumble “no eds stay please” he sighs and crawls over me, getting under the blankets and wrapping his arms around me

“Sleep, I’m not going anywhere”

I smile and he rubs my stomach slowly pulling me back to slumber

~

When I wake back up again for the second time Eddie isn’t here and I feel like I got ten times worse “Eddie?” It comes out weak and horse, I feel like crying did he leave? Did he get bored? I feel a knot in my throat when the door opens “oh hey your awake are you okay sweetheart your eyes are watering” I smile and grab onto his arm “I’m okay now”

As soon as I say that I feel bile build up and rush past Eddie to the bathroom, he runs behind me and hold my hair back after throwing up the only food I ate today and dry heaving for five minutes it finally stops “Ed’s it hurts”

“I know it does baby do you want to take a bath relax your muscles a bit?” I nod and he starts running the water and I hand him the bubbles, when the bath is filled he grabs my bath towel and a new shirt “hey sweetheart are you okay from here?” I nod and when he’s about to walk away I grab him “um before I get in the bath could you stay by the door and when I say it’s okay could you come back in I don’t wanna be alone”

His neck flushes pink and he nods “um yeah when your decent just yell my name” I undress and look at the bun Eddie put in my hair smiling, I ease myself into the bath and sigh at how good it feels making sure there’s enough bubbles to cover me “Eddie? You can come it now” the door opens and he has his hand over his eyes “are you sure?” I laugh and shake my head

“Yes you goon now tell me about the upcoming campaign” while hearing his soothing voice as well as his imaginative story telling I start to feel sleepy everything is so nice right now “hey your falling asleep on me do you wanna lay down?” I nod and feel super weak “could you just turn around while I get situated”

“Of course” I dry off and put my clothes on then tap his shoulder “I feel weak could you help me to the bed” he picks me up effortlessly and starts waking to my room “are you getting worse? Do you need more medicine or a doctor” I shake my head and he sets me down “I just need you” he smiles and lays down next to me

“I think that’s the medicine talking” in my hazy state my mouth works faster then my common sense “no it’s me talking duh because I’m so in love with you and I feel safe around you” a faint kiss on my forehead is the last thing I hear as I again fall asleep

“I love you too baby”

[marimayscarlett]

It’s cold outside. Our heating is still off, I am desperately trying to get warm.

Do you happen to have some Richard pictures/stories that might warm my insides?

Thank you for your service, m’am🖤

Hi 👋

First of all, I truly hope that your heating will soon be working! Sending warmth and hugs your way 🤲🏼

Now, regarding some stories - not sure if these will do the trick, but I always feel warm/smile/sigh and look into the distance dreamily when I think about the following (sadly, I can't find sources for every story here - so some might just be cute "urban legends", but I just choose the believe them ☝😌):

A story of a fan about meeting Richard after a concert: "The hug I got was bone crushing. I was right in front of him. Cried my way through Frühling [...]. He checked on me and asked me if I was ok. Said i was fine and even the amount of times I'd seen them play, i got so caught up in the emotion. Richard told me they were the most moving moments for him at least and pulled me into a huge hug that if i think about it, i can still feel. Sounds weird but when you get a hug like that you dont forget it." (X)

It's incredibly nice to see how much he seems to care about his kids. Of course, that's the job of a dad, and yet it's not always the case. This situation warms my heart and makes it aching for him at the same time: “When my daughter, Khira, was 3 years old, she became very ill. There was nothing to worry about, a typical advanced tonsillitis. She was admitted to hospital. As always there were no seats in the wards I faced a choice: either pay for the ward or stay in the corridor. Only very wealthy people could afford the paid hospital ward. I was at that point that still could not afford it. We needed expensive medication, and I did not earn much. And she was put in the hallway. I slept with her in the hallway at night and her mother at daytime. And so the weeks passed until a free place appeared in the ward." (X)

Richard once mentioned (I think it was one of the festival interviews in 2017, yet I can't find the source anymore, so I might be wrong), that he was present during the birth of both of his daughters, and that the birth of a child is one of, if not the most, impressive things he has experienced in life. He seemed truly positively enthusiastic and sincere in that moment, which I found very beautiful, since not every man/father thinks like this.

Just this moment from this interview:

I find it rather endearing that he seems to love fantasy and would have liked to play a role in "Game of Thrones" or "Westworld", to let certain characters in him come to life. Richard seems to find enjoyment in movie worlds like these and I love that he speaks so openly about it 🥰 (X)

A long time ago, I read about an anecdote of the time when he lived with Till in the early 90's - they had little to no money, let alone food, so they apparently stole all the necessary ingredients, so Richard could make donuts for Till, who has a major sweet tooth. No idea if this is true, but it's really sweet.

In this interview, Richard expressed that he would drop everything to play a benefit for abused children.

He once gifted his guitar to the Hard Rock café in Berlin and signed it with "Rammstein!! RZK YeaH" which is kind of cringy, yet very cute?? (X)

Some pictures which just warm my heart - his comfy travel outfit, product free hair, him being soft and smiling, meeting a fan this year and being seemingly quite open, or just downright adorable on stage...

Weird assortment, I know and I'm sorry, but maybe it helps a bit 🤍

[strawurberries]

General head cannons for Vash the Stampede p.2

Summary: General headcannons for Vash the Stampede.

Authors Note: n/a

Warnings: Slight nsfw and angst, mostly fluff.

He also loves playful banter and flirting! But he also hates when the tables are turned on him and you gain the upper hand (at least, that’s what he wants you to think. Don’t tell anyone this—ever—but he actually adores the teasing. He’ll pretend he despises it but in reality, it opens something up in him that he’s a little too nervous to explore). When he has the upper hand though? An absolute menace. He may be devoted, a follower, and someone who will give their soul to you if asked, but he also has that little bastard in him that tells him to make you turn red until you kiss him to make him shut up. 

“You’re a brat,” you had said once, grabbing his hair. Fingers tangled in his damp golden locks, water droplets sliding down his chin from his shower minutes earlier.

He had opened his mouth to respond but the slight pressure on his head. . . you pulling his hair? He was too distracted. He wanted to snap back, grin and see that cute little flustered look on your face but. . . brat? You called him a brat? Oh no, he’s feeling something.

“Cat got your tongue?” you snickered, “where’d all that confidence go? Pretty boy~?”

In that moment, he wasn’t sure if God or the Devil was before him—regardless of who it was though, something was telling him he’d enjoy this interaction nonetheless. Perhaps he wouldn’t mind if his God had a little sadistic side—he blushed and shoved that thought away with such speed it put his gunslinger skills to shame. 

You just grinned, “oh, you love this, don’t you?”

He, quite literally, thought he was going to have a heart attack.

Give him a little praise, maybe a kiss, and he’ll be so far lost in love he’ll do anything you ask. He says that it’s brainwashing but you deny it every time.

“You can’t be human! You’re a witch or somethin’!” he cried, reeling back looking at his bag of two—well, now one—donuts. 

You grinned and took another bite, “you said I could have it!”

“You brainwashed me!”

“Eh?! How would I even do that?”

“You tell me!”

(He cried a little bit over the donut, but you gave him a kiss to cheer him up. He asked for three more before you told him to stop and then he stole another)

In public though, he refrains from touching you as much as possible. If anyone got wind that the “Humanoid Typhoon” got a lover. . . he doesn’t want to think of what would happen. He’ll sometimes indulge in some hand holding, a quick hug, and maybe, just maybe, a kiss. He won’t do anything else though, no matter how much he wants to tackle you to the ground and smother you right there. Your safety is put above all else, even himself and his own wants. He feels bad that he can’t offer you a relationship in public, that he has to don his outlaw persona and watch as you are pushed to the side, but it’s for your sake. If you’re okay, he can bear anything.

Broken bones, cuts, bullet wounds, even a broken heart—he’ll take it all on to keep that smile on your face.

[hsslilly-blog]

Summary: Claire Swanson attends a masquerade ball with her best friend, Addison. As is the norm with her, everything quickly turns into disaster when she runs into the worst man to have ever lived. Word Count: 6,9k A/N: This is my first time posting my writing here! Some things: 1. this one closely follows the structure of the original quest since I thought it worked for what I wanted to do (might not happen with my other rewrites); 2. English is not my first language; and 3. unsure if this is too long, since it’s mostly dialogue.

A universal truth to those who knew her, Claribel Swanson always found herself in situations she would not be able to explain. From totaling her car because she got distracted by a donut shop to spending a night in county jail since her license was expired, trouble followed in Claire’s shadow. She’d argue it was not her fault most of the time. Then again, it did not matter if she wasn’t the reagent — she was always the catalyst.

Mid July had a tendency of being arid in Los Angeles. The orange sky hid behind palm trees, while the light breeze did nothing to soften people’s flushed cheeks. The car radio informed Claire it was the hottest day of the year; so it was, of course, the perfect day to hold a white tie masquerade ball.

The taxi ride to Malibu was number two on her list of worst experiences in the month: first, wearing a petticoat in such a cramped space was very unpleasant; then Addison wouldn't stop rambling about the famous designer she wanted to meet; and, to top it all off, the car's air conditioning wasn't working. As soon as Claire got inside the venue, she was set on getting something to drink.

As she looked for a waiter, Claire swerved from women in long bouffant skirts and men preening in ill-suited tuxedos. She scrutinized their outfits as much as they must've been judging hers. Sequined gowns were abhorrent. Polka dots were worse. Holstein pattern… an inspired choice. Claire's favorite part of those events was the pageantry of it all. The low décolletage of the dresses did not take away from the stuffiness: theatrics, she liked to think, was rich people's most treasured hobby. She knew it was hers, at least.

The Regency-style ballroom was almost too much for Claire, but she fancied the chandeliers. The painted murals in the ceiling were pretty, too. The tall windows and the red curtains stopped her in her tracks for a few seconds before she resumed walking. And the people on the dance floor were terrible; did they not know how to quadrille? Outrageous.

Claire stole a champagne flute from a tray. It was not her drink of choice, and far from something she would have to dampen a heatwave, but it was fine. Everything was fine. She loved the bubbles! However, before she could thank the server, Claire's eyes singled out a lady in a feathery, bright green gown. The round, sturdy shape of her skirt left no doubt: crinoline!?

Claire had to find Addison. She could not keep in her outrage. That was like, totally absurd! Crinoline!? Oh, Claire was all for propriety. She loved propriety. She was the most proper young woman in the entirety of the San Fernando Valley. Crinoline, though, was taking it a step too far; next thing people would be wearing bustles and bonnets and asking when the regiment would be coming to town! She knew Addison would take no joy in Claire's ridicule of the lady's outfit, but she had to share her vexation with someone.

In her state of distress, Claire turned around and ran straight into a man's chest. Her champagne flute almost slipped out her hand, but she managed to avoid a disaster. The man wasn't as lucky: she didn't know what he had been drinking, only that it now was all over the floor.

"Oooops…!" Claire grimaced. "Sorry!"

The man frowned, assessing her damage. While his suit was left unscathed, his dress shirt was soaked. "Do you tend to bolt out running like a lunatic?"

"Um- What?!" She scoffs, "how was I supposed to know you were standing like, right behind me!? Why were you standing right behind me!?"

"I was not. I was walking past you," he said. "You, on the other hand, are blocking the passage and scurrying around with no apparent regard for anyone else in this ballroom."

Claire shook her hands in an attempt to dry her gloves. "I'm not blocking the passage! It's a ballroom! There's no passage!"

"You- Could you please stop with that?!" he raised his arms to protect himself from her. "You're making it worse."

"Worse?! I'm trying to do something about- You probably ruined my gloves and- You are sooo lucky my dress is fine."

"I did not ruin anything. I was walking and you got in my way."

"Literally swerve. Do you only move in a straight line!? Are you like, an ant or something?"

The man stared at Claire for a few seconds, not bothering to answer. Instead, he turned in the other direction. This was very insulting to her, and she could not constrain a scoff.

"Hey-!"

Claire trailed after him, her heels clacking on the parquet floor. Some guests measured her down as she zigzagged through the crowd; she did not even bother excusing herself! After what felt like crossing the entire ballroom, Claire caught up to the man at the venue's bar.

"Hi-? I'm talking with you!"

"Stop following me."

"I'm not- I just want to help!"

"I don't want your help." He came to a halt, turning to face her. His eyes flicked to the people around them. "And you are making a scene."

"I wouldn't be if you didn't walk off while I was talking with you!"

Once again, he did not answer Claire. He did, however, point to the crystal flute she still carried. She resigned herself into handing it to him and watched as he placed both their glasses on the bar counter.

"Are you listening to me?"

"Still, unfortunately."

Claire frowned, her lips pouting as she sulked, "there's no need to be so rude!"

"You just threw a champagne flute at me. I'm of the opinion I'm allowed to be curt with you, in retribution."

"It was an accident!"

"It doesn't matter if it was an accident. Your carelessness put both of us in this… circumstance," he gestured to himself and then to Claire's wet gloves. "So I'd appreciate it if you'd turn around and carry on to wherever you were running to before we met."

The man did not wait to see if Claire would comply with his request; he turned his back to her once more and sat on one of the bar stools, preoccupied with his shirt. Claire stared at his nape for a few seconds, the chatter around her somehow louder. She shifted on her feet… looked up… bit the tip of her gloved fingers.

The problem with Claribel Swanson was that she could not let go of anything, ever.

"But I feel bad." She slid to the man's side and observed as he attempted to fix her mess with his handkerchief. "I want to, like, do something."

"There is not a single thing you can do to make this any better. Unless you have a change of clothes, which I don't believe you do." He didn't look up to her as he spoke, "if you can think of anything else, I accept suggestions."

Oh, Claire had a lot of suggestions. In fact, fixing this predicament would be no trouble for her! She knew exactly what this man needed, and she was more than happy to be of service. She smiled:

"I know- I can keep you company!"

"That's the one thing I can't imagine myself ever desiring."

"Wha-! You're…- I'm just trying to help you not look super stupid alone and-" Claire flaps her hand at him, "so people don't think you're like, a drunk or something!"

"I don't care about what people think."

"You just told me I was making a scene."

"That's different. By attracting us unnecessary attention you were embarrassing yourself and, most importantly, me. I don't want to be asked to leave the function. If people make baseless assumptions about me, then there's hardly anything I can do. It's a masquerade."

"That's literally the same thing."

"No, it's not."

"Well, it is to me."

The man turned to Claire, amused. "Finally you're saying something that pleases me. I'm glad we are not alike."

Claire was thankful the mask concealed her face very well, for her cheeks betrayed her embarrassment. She was not, however, too much embarrassed to retort: "You are too mean, mister, and extremely unpleasant. I'm also very glad we're not alike!"

"I am being frank. I'm not to blame if you take that as meanness."

"Oh, you might be frank alright, but you're also a dick."

"Excuse me?"

"I can be frank too! I've been talking with you for, like, five minutes and every single word that's come out of your mouth has been some sort of insult." She measured him, "I'm beginning to think you're either a very miserable person, or a dick- Or both!"

The man turned himself on the bar stool, facing Claire completely. "Of course I'm miserable. You've been on my presence since you decided to spill both of our drinks on me, and you still haven't got the clue that I do not want to converse with you. Or with anyone, for that matter."

"I did not- It was an accident, and I'm trying to make up for it!"

"And you're failing. You‘re being inconvenient."

"I'm trying to make acquaintance with you so at least we get something out of this terrible experience. Can't you see that?!"

"Fine. What is your name?"

Claire blinked in confusion at his quick acceptance. "Um… I'm Marie."

"That's a lovely name, Marie. Too bad I cannot say the same about the person bearing it. I'm Orson. We're acquainted. You can go now."

Claire did not even entertain the suggestion as she was not satisfied with her pursue yet. Besides, his words delighted her too much:

"What-? Are you like, making this up? Who names their kid Orson?"

"My mother."

Claire giggled. "She had really bad taste!"

"I'm aware."

"It's just- You're like… the first Orson I know. This is a moment to me. Were you born prior to color TV?"

"I was not, no."

"Omigosh- Wait, there's the guy who wrote Ender's Game. But he's like super old, so that doesn't help you… and the film director. Who's also old. And dead."

This seemed to catch his attention. "Film director?"

"Yeah, Welles. From Citizen Kane- My mom loves his Macbeth adaptation… I think my first memory is probably watching, um, a really bad tape of it." Claire twirled her hair, thinking. "She has this cassette she recorded from when it aired on TV once and it's like, all blurry and grainy and fading and it's ugly and you can barely hear what they're saying and, um, I don't think… you want to know about my mom."

"No. I am far more interested in you right now. Is this superficial knowledge?"

"I'm an actress."

"Are you?"

"Yes."

Orson seemed to mull on her answer. Claire took it as an opportunity to size him up, something she hadn't done until then. Although his mask covered most of his face, his mien of self-satisfaction was very apparent; his tall frame probably contributed to it, thought Claire, but something about him vexed her to the point of physicality. His raven-black hair was combed to the side, not a single strand out of place. He was, from what Claire could observe, and in the most objective terms possible, very attractive. A good specimen, she would say.

"You're not a known actress, I presume."

It offended her very much, but Claire only pressed her lips together. "I'm… rising."

This amused him. "This denotes movement. Would you say you're closer to the top or to the bottom?"

"What if I say I'm very famous? How are you supposed to know if I'm telling the truth?"

"You're simultaneously too brash and too coy about it. If you were famous, you'd be either or."

"I could be like, Nicole Kidman."

"I… highly doubt it."

"Okay! Maybe I want to confuse you. Mm? And I'm not brash."

"Oh, you are, but I agree with you on the former; you do confound me." Orson's brown eyes inspected her face. "You ruin my night and make it your mission to spoil it further. You insist on trying to socialize with me as I continue to dismiss you. Nothing I say seems to dishearten you. I must know: were you born like this?"

Claire made a moue. "I ruined your night…? Do you promise?"

"This is amensalism. You're not even getting anything out of this."

"I'm getting plenty."

"Why are you here?"

"Um… because I followed you?"

Orson frowns. "Don't be cute. I want to know why you are attending this charity event."

"It's Miami! Men here are loaded and famous... and they can be generous to more than one cause!" She smiles, touching his arm. "Are you feeling any generous?"

"No."

"It was a funny bit. You could've laughed."

"I didn't find it funny."

Claire rolls her eyes. "Figures."

He didn't say anything after that, and neither did Claire. Orson didn't seem bothered by the silence, but his staring unnerved her; she fidgeted with her still-dampen gloves and looked elsewhere. Why was this man so immune to her charms? Claire could not understand how it took him so little effort to brush her off.

"I, um… I came with a friend," Claire retried after a moment. Orson tilted his head to the side, listening. "She wanted to meet this fashion designer… Barbra… something something.

"Tremblay-Leblond."

"You know her?"

He hummed. "When I attend an event, I tend to make a point of remembering the hostess' name."

"Oh. Was this a faux-pas?"

Orson took a few seconds to process her words, but he snorted when he did. "Please, tell me what you've done that has not been a faux-pas."

"Well- I'll let you know your etiquette hasn't been the best either!" she squeaked as her cheeks colored. "Asking this many questions is like, totally impolite. You keep probing me but you haven't shared anything about yourself!"

"You haven't asked me anything."

"Why are you here?"

"It's charity. I care deeply for the arts."

"That's it?"

"Should it be something else?"

"You just don't look like an art guy. You look, like, sad and miserable and lonely and depressed," she said, twirling a loose strand of hair. "I see no reason you'd come to this thing- You know the charity stuff is just an excuse, right?"

"It might be, for others." His gaze lingered on her finger. "I did not plan on staying for long, though."

"Did you change your mind?"

"It'd be discourteous to leave you here by yourself."

"Funny, because you were very eager to send me away just a few minutes ago!"

"Send you away, yes. Not leave you unaccompanied. And that was before we made acquaintance."

Claire could not keep in her smile. "You are all politeness. Gnarly!"

"And you're too content. I'm still trying to figure out a way to get rid of you."

"I'm very persistent."

"I can tell." He considers her. "Can I bore you with conversation?"

"You want to talk now?"

"I'm willing if it runs you off."

"Ooooh. Okay! I'm an adept speaker, you see. I can like, totally talk about anything, for any length of time," Claire nods, agreeing with herself. "Give me a topic and I'll give you an opinion."

"You have an opinion about every topic there is?"

"Yes. And if I don't, I'll form one on the spot."

"Is that how you go on about life?"

"Well, of course. You have to know where you stand on things."

"Even when you have insufficient information?"

"You always have information. Something, I mean. You can't ever be truly neutral, I think."

Orson thought about her words for a moment. "I don't completely disagree with you. Although I prefer to be more… deliberate with my opinions."

"As if! You can't actually believe that- You barely know me and you think a lot about me."

"Oh, you give me a lot to think about with very little."

She dismisses him with her hand. "Adds to my point. Could you be neutral about me?"

"I don't think that's possible, no."

Claire grinned, satisfied. When the dancing recommenced on the floor in front of them, she couldn't help but pay attention to the couples waltzing. Claire twirled her hair, coming up with an idea.

"Do you dance, Orson?"

"I can dance, yes. I try to avoid it."

"Aw… Come on, don't be like that. That's the whole point of a ball! It'd be soooo rude not to pay it the compliment of a dance once."

"I suppose so. I am willing to be rude, though," he told her. "We already went over how this is a masquerade. People won't know who, exactly, is not adhering to a social rule."

"Yeah… but it's still a gaffe with me," Claire pouted. She then leaned forward, "You may dislike dancing, but I know you'll find me very pleasant as a partner!"

"I wouldn't be so unlucky. To find you pleasant would hinder my plans of driving you away. Don't wish me such an evil."

"I'm wishing you all the evil, and more."

"I have a suspicion you're not one to only wish for things, Marie."

Claire inspected Orson for a moment, her eyes traveling over his figure. He still fidgeted with his handkerchief, his mind elsewhere. Something about him was profoundly intriguing to Claire; by his own admission he had no issue rejecting her, yet he seemed to get some gratification by her insistence. Masochism was no foreign concept to her, though concealing it under the guise of decorum was a phenomenon he seemed to have mastered.

Deep down in her viscera Claire could feel her desperation. The man by her side invoked indignation in her to the likes she'd never felt; why was he so opposed to the mere idea of Claire? It was impossible he did not fancy her as affable in the slightest. Claire was certain she had a perfect resemblance of her character in her mind, and she was very sure of her likability. Not only was she totally privileged in her appearance, with her golden mane and her heart shaped lips, but she was also aware of her cheerful and unpretentious disposition.

Claire settled on the opinion this must have been indicative of his own insecurities. For a man to desire to isolate himself in that way, even in the presence of a woman of her degree, he had to fear vulnerability. And, God, the lack of humility to be in this position! To snob other people when they're giving you their time, unable to overcome your shortcomings for the benefit of your partner… This upset her profoundly, and she couldn't help but confront him about it:

"I think you're totally afraid."

Orson furrowed his eyebrows. "Afraid of what?"

"Of, like, liking me."

"Don't think so highly of yourself."

She giggled. "Why? Am I not up to par to your thoughts?"

"It's not a concern I have at all. Finding you likable would be a surprise, but it wouldn't mean a thing," he said, folding his handkerchief. Orson pocketed it. "I'd still want you very far from myself."

"Oh, don't inhibit yourself like this."

"I'm inhibiting you. You look as if entropy was a person. I don't need that."

Claire tilted her head to the side, her curtain bangs falling over her face. "I already said I'm sorry. And I've been so nice."

"I would argue against that last point."

"Awesome! Do argue with me- Prove me wrong. If you're not afraid of liking me just a little bit, then dance with me."

He looked annoyed. "You sound like a child."

"And you are afraid!" Claire grinned big. "Frightened! Terrified!"

It was Orson's turn to consider her. After a heavy sigh, he slipped of his bar stool to claim her hand. With feigned coyness, Claire let herself be led to the crowded dance floor.

"Your gloves are still… damp."

She purred, "would you like me to take them off?"

"No."

"Why? Would that be too scandalous?"

"Once again; please, tell what you have done so far that hasn't been scandalous."

Claire beamed with his irked tone of voice. As Orson guided her through the steps, silence fell over them. Soon she started feeling restless; he didn't seem interested in speaking one word, all the while Claire was bubbling with remarks. For her, to stand face to face with a person for the entire duration of a dance and not chat about anything was akin to torture!

As they orbited their neighbors, Claire's bugs bit her insides. His gaze made her uncomfortable. She almost resigned herself into maintaining the quietude until she realized it would cause him greater distress if he were obliged to talk.

"Everyone here has put so much effort into their outfits!" She pursed her lips, "though some have no sense of aesthetics! Look at that guy and his terrible, awful, ugly suit. Not even a dress coat!"

Orson hummed. "Not worse than the lady he is with."

"Her tiara is so ugly. Ew," Claire grimaced. She waited a few seconds, but did not let them fall into silence again: "It's your turn to say something now."

"Is it a habit of yours to talk while you're dancing?"

"Is it not yours?" she smiled. "Do you expect me to like, not say anything for half an hour? Are we supposed to just stare at each other while we dance?"

"I didn't expect you to be silent, no. Although I naively did hope so."

"Aw… thinking of me? That's so cute!" Claire gave his shoulder a light tap, "but when you're paired up with someone who has trouble speaking you have to like, help them a little."

"How thoughtful of you."

"I try to be! So, you see, I'm doing us both a favor here! How awkward would it be if we just stood here… minding our own businesses…"

"Do you take an issue with people ignoring you, Marie?"

"What? No." She giggled, rolling her eyes. "I just think it's weird to be with another person and just… well, not talk. You should find it weird too. Because it's a little rude. But, um, you don't seem to have a problem being rude- Why would you even ignore me, anyway? You're dancing with me because you want to."

"I am not ignoring you, clearly. You don't make it possible." Orson whirled them through the other couples, "you seem to have a need to be always present, though."

"Omigosh- Are you like, a shrink? Ewwww… please, don't be a shrink."

He have her a weak smile. "I am not."

"Oh, good. Because I dated a therapist once, and it was like… weird. Well, mostly because he was like, my therapist, so it was totally awkward because he was kinda in my head, you know," she told him. Claire then raised her eyebrows. "Not saying I'm attracted to you, or to therapists- Or like, um, that I'm not. I don't know why I'm telling you this."

"I presume it's because you have no filter. It seems to be very striking of your character, though."

She scoffed. "So much for being deliberate- You don't even know who I am!"

"No, I do not… but this is something I've been wondering about ever since you mentioned you're an actress." Orson searched her face, "something about you is familiar, almost loathsome… yet at the same time, forgive me, attractive."

Claire should have been delighted, but her mites chewed her guts at the same rate as her face reddened. She did not enjoy one bit how he was going off-script; this was way too forward for him. And so indiscreet! He was not supposed to say it! At last she had succeeded in prying a somewhat positive comment from this man, and she found herself desiring she had never done so.

"I guarantee you I'm not familiar to you!" she retorted, turning her face away from Orson. "And- Do you only look at people to criticize them!?"

"No. You just happen to be so unabashedly unreserved that it makes it very easy to point out your failings."

"I can also point out your failings very well." She frowns, "you're so self-satisfied you think you're like, above every single person you come in contact with- That they're not good enough to even talk to you. Your fault is that you hate everybody!"

"And yours is to believe you know everything about the world around you, to the point you naively misrepresent what you can't comprehend."

"Oh, please. Tell me, which part of your person have I misrepresented? Are you not arrogant? Acting as if you've known me for years, pointing fingers at me like you have the facts- Like you have the right! Is this not arrogance!?"

They both fell into silence again, as Orson did nothing other than press his lips together and Claire said no more. Their exchange made her so incensed she found it difficult to cross her steps for the first time that night. As she struggled to keep up with the tempo, Orson dropped his hand at her waist and she thought he was finally done with her; instead, Claire was twirled around before safely returning to his arms.

"I apologize," said Orson afterwards, earning a confused expression from Claire. "You are correct in saying I do not know you. I can't make such grave assumptions from what you choose to show me when I'm not being very agreeable to you."

She shifts her gaze, chin high. "Well, um- I guess I appreciate that."

"I would like to blame my behavior on my 40-hour week schedule, but that wouldn't be accurate."

"Oh. You work full-time? Do you have health insurance…?"

"No, only five classes per semester and a migraine every Friday."

This was extremely humorous to Claire. "You're a teacher?"

"A professor."

"Omigosh, you have a title. I am so sorry, professor."

"Don't."

Claire laughed, tucking her hair behind her ear. "What's an university professor doing at this type of event? Shouldn't you, be, like, doing some lame stuff, like, umm… grading? How'd you even afford the tux?"

"It offends me deeply that you believe I cannot afford a dress suit," he said, almost good-mannered. Orson brought her closer. "As for you, since we've already established you're not a well known actress-"

"We have not established that."

"-I can only assume you have other means of affording your gown?"

"Why are you speculating on my pedigree?"

He smiled despite himself. "I said nothing of that."

"Well, um, yeah- I'm, um, a heiress." She giggles. "Yeah. I'm a heiress. My father is… Um- Daddy is, like, loaded."

"This was the performance of a lifetime."

"I'm so glad you enjoyed it. It was my mission tonight to please you."

"Very well. You just did."

This, for Claire, was like gene mapping for the first time. She grinned, petting his shoulder, and Orson looked thrown off by it.

"What kind of stupid university do you teach at that you have no benefits, though? Are you not tenured?"

"Why are you so interested in my benefits?"

"Um… just making sure you're not being exploited."

"You are so kind."

Claire laughed, then covered her mouth with her free hand. Orson smiled at first, but winced when the music changed. He pulled Claire to the side.

"That's enough."

"What?" Claire tugged on his arm, "it's a group dance now, it's going to be fun!"

"Clearly, we have different conceptions of 'fun'," Orson said. He looked to his side, assessing the dance floor. "I have no interest in dancing with someone I'm not acquainted with, which is to say I feel no desire to leave your side."

"You're like, such a loser. There's something very wrong with you."

"Thank you." He nodded. "I appreciate this coming from you. You would know."

"Um... excuse me?"

Orson smiled, but didn't reply. Instead, he took her hand and led her out of the dance floor and away from the commotion. Once again, she let him guide her and once again, Claire was perturbed by his touch. It was such a harmless act, yet it appeared so out of protocol her first reaction would've been to recoil and push him away had she been wearing no gloves.

As Orson walked them both out onto the silence of a private balcony, Claire leaned against the balustrade. The waves crashed on the beach below and she watched as a small crowd gathered for the fireworks exhibition. The weather was much more agreeable at that point of the night than it had been earlier.

"I'm a biologist," Claire blurted, breaking the silence. Orson turned to face her. "Um- Well, I have an undergrad in biology. I've never… worked in the field."

"Not a heiress?"

She rolled her eyes. "My dad doesn't talk to me."

"Very unfortunate for him."

"It's fine, though. I don't care." She shook her head and smiled, "I've always wanted to act, anyway. So I came back to Los Angeles."

"Have I seen you in anything?"

"Not yet. But you will."

Orson leaned against the railing as well. He stared at his hands for a moment.

"Must I share something about myself now?"

"Well, I'm not going to say no."

He gave it some thought. "I used to be a film director."

"Ohmigosh, really? This is so- I knew we had crossed paths for a reason. See?" She smiled and gave his arm a few happy taps, "I'm actress and you're a director. Verb tenses can change very easily, don't worry."

"I fear it's not that simple."

"Are you, like, famous? No, used to- Are you good? Oh, forget it, you wouldn't give me a negative." Claire waved him away. She did not let Orson reply to her, as she already had a planned line of inquiry: "Have you ever won something? How many films have you made? Are you like, recognizable-!? Hold on, let me think a little!"

Orson allowed her to muse for some time, with her index finger over her moue and her eyes squinted in concentration. Claire tried piecing together all the information she had learnt about him that night, but he could be any person in the county. She let out a frustrated sigh. "Okay, this is harder than I thought it'd be."

"I'm unsure if I should feel very offended, or very relieved."

"I'm bad at guessing games" Claire scanned him. "Oh- Wait-!"

She reached for his left hand, which caught Orson by surprise: "What are you doing?"

"I'm checking if you were smart enough to pocket the ring."

"I am not married."

"That's what they all say."

"I can assure you I am not married. It's not something I have ever given thought to."

"Seriously? This is embarrassing… Okay, so, here's a piece of advice." Claire gave his chest a tap. "You should get married and then like, get divorced. As soon as possible."

Orson frowned. "Why would I do that?"

"Um… first, because divorce is chic, but also- You have like, this strong divorced guy with kids energy," she rolls her eyes, gesturing at his entire being. "I keep thinking you're going to slip up at any moment and mention your ex-wife or tell me your children are at grandma's."

He tucked a stubborn strand of hair behind her ear. "You must have a talent in misunderstanding everything around you. It's… charming."

Claire grins. "Is it now?"

"Your overconfidence in… everything makes you annoying and naive, though it endears you very much."

"Are you unable to compliment people without insulting them first?"

"It's not an insult. It's the truth."

"Do I get to tell you a truth, too?"

"Did you not tell the truth at any point this evening?"

Claire smiles. "No."

"You have a lovely smile."

"Are you saying this because you mean it or because you're trying to be nice and my smile is like, the only thing you can see of my face?"

"I wouldn't say it if I didn't mean it."

"In that case… thanks."

They retreated into silence once more. Claire could recognize, though, it was not any kind of silence; unlike the other occasions they stood without speaking, this one was tinted in expectation. Every subject she could think of seemed extremely inappropriate. Claire lowered her chin to her chest, her nerves overwhelming her.

The man in front of her appeared as uncomfortable as her, if not more. With his hands behind his back, his stiffness of manner was more obvious than ever. Orson's eyes did not wander away from her face and Claire could only suffer from anticipation. Besides, of course, wish she could turn around and run away from him. That would be uncivil.

If thoughts of incivility preoccupied Claire, then they overburdened Orson; and in no time she was made aware of it as she was in his arms, and his lips were upon hers. Soon, Claire's hands were on his lapels, and Orson's were on her hair, and her waist, and all over her.

Navigating propriety had always been a prelude. Claire tiptoed until she felt herself bump against the balustrade behind her. She gasped, her fingers trailing from his shoulder to his nape. Fireworks exploded in the distance and her heartbeat mimicked every single blow as their masks got in the way.

"Okay." Claire giggled out her words when he pulled away. She caught her breath, "that was like, a 76."

Orson searched her face, in an attempt to make sense of it. When he did, he frowned, "are you rating my kiss?"

"I rate all of my experiences."

"This makes me… deeply uncomfortable- A C?"

"Ewwww. Do you have those memorized? Freak!" Claire rolls her eyes, not letting him protest, "anyway- I have like, very high standards."

"I must not judge my own performance, but, surely, it's worth more than a 76."

"I just know you're not living up to your full potential, you know."

Orson looked very annoyed, but, to her surprise, humored her; he tilted her chin up and kissed her again. Claire smiled:

"Mmm… I'm giving this one an 82."

"How does your system work? What metrics are you using here?"

"Uhhh… like… lots."

"This seems dubious. I'm led to believe you're intentionally low-scoring me."

"Don't worry. It will be peer reviewed. Later."

This amused him very much, and even earned her a chuckle. Orson cupped her cheeks with both hands before leaning down once more. Claire was not expecting the kiss to be so sweet and she couldn't contain the giggles escaping her. The light ocean breeze was welcome, but it did nothing to assuage the warmth spreading through her body.

When he pulled away, Claire smiled. Her hands reached his wrists as she considered him. "This was nice."

“Nice?”

“What?”

"I want a number."

"Omigosh! I don't work well under pressure."

"And you're in Hollywood?"

"Unrelated. How's this: I still think you can do better, Prof."

Claire prided herself in her social competence. She believed herself to be sensible of people's inner thoughts, but the way Orson's smile dropped off his face was floundering to her. In seconds, he seemed to go through confusion, hurt and disgust until he set on scowling. Had she said something terribly insulting in trying to be funny? Was she too repetitive?

Before Claire could ask him what had happened, Orson reached for her mask. He tried to untie the knot on the back of her head as Claire laughed awkwardly, pushing his hand away. "Hey- No! It's going to like, ruin the fun!"

Orson didn't comply. Once her mask was off, he paralyzed. He searched her face, his eyebrows furrowed; not in confusion or anger this time, but what appeared to Claire as panic, perplexity, a breakdown of order. Discomposed under his gaze, she brushed her bangs to the side.

"Oh, come on." Claire avoided looking up, abashed. "I know I'm not bad looking."

"Claribel."

It was her turn to twist her face in bewilderment. Not once that evening had Claire even come close to sharing with him her nickname, much less her legal name.

"What?"

The sheer horror of Orson yanking his mask off was enough to make Claire stumble a few steps back. In front of her, with lips smudged with her red lipstick, stood Professor Thomas Hunt.

"What?!"

Claire could only turn around, her hands going straight to her face. Her body's involuntary reaction was to flex down in disgust. Her stomach churned. Oh, her bugs wanted out. And they wanted out now.

With everything she had, she forced her feelings down her throat. Speechless, she faced him once again. Claire covered her mouth, her eyes trailing his visage. "Oh my God- Oh my God!"

He frowned. "Stop with this, Claribel. I'm not falling for it. You must've known it was me."

"Wha- Oh please-! Are you delusional!? With a mask on you look like half of the guys in Los Angeles. You're the most generic looking man ever!"

"You-"

"And you're not that special! But you- You must've known it was me!" She approached him again, finger outstretched. "With your- Your meddling and asking questions and being oh-so-interested in me!"

Hunt scoffed. "Had I even suspected it was you behind that mask I would've walked away from you without a second thought."

"You speak as if I have acted any different tonight than I usually do! You were putting on an act, I wasn't!"

"Putting on an act? I was merely trying to be polite in face of your incessant pestering. It's not my fault if you cannot discern between that and not being genuine."

"You are not polite! That's not a word that even exists to you! You like putting people down and telling them to their face they are worthless- You were making an effort- You wanted to confuse me!"

"Are you listening to yourself?! Can't you see how absurd is this argument you're making?!" He scowls, "I have no interest in being involved with you in any form, Claribel- I do not wish to, and I cannot. You are not sound of mind if you believe otherwise."

"I know you at least suspected it was me! How could you not?! I said- I said so much about myself. I know you put everything together!"

"Do you think I care about you? Do you think I waste any second of my time giving you as much as a fleeting thought?" Hunt's face twisted in contempt, "you do not exist to me, Claribel."

Claire gasped. "Don't be under the impression I want you to- God-! You're the last man on Earth I wanted to have spent tonight with!"

"Very good. I'm glad we can agree on this." He squints, "this is not something that should have happened. This was a mistake. A line that should not have been crossed."

"Are you like, reassuring yourself? Or just stating the obvious?!"

"The latter. As you've shown me tonight and in many other occasions, I can't ever expect you to act rationally or follow any common sense. I have to spell out the obvious to you since you appear to be very fond of misconstructions."

"Are you calling me dumb?"

With a voice of forced calmness, Hunt said: "No. You are not dumb, Claribel. Far from it. You're too smart for your own good. You're blind to what makes you an unpleasant person to be around. You're disrespectful, insolent, and frustrating. So I want to be very clear with you, so you do not make up any fantasies in your mind: I dislike you, and I despise you."

Claire wouldn't be able to explain why his words affected her so much, but they did. As much as she tried to ignore the tightness in her chest, the burning sensation spread over to her face and ears.

"Well, Professor, I'd like to offer you a piece of my mind as well." Claire put on a scorn, getting closer to him. Through gritted teeth, she spoke: "From very moment I met you, I was certain you were the most arrogant, offensive and conceited man I'd ever had the displeasure to know. You have no regard to others, you are patronizing and you- You make me sick. I hate everything about you. The world is worse with you in it."

The silence in the balcony was only broken by the waves crashing on the beach below and the distant chatter of the other guests. Neither Claire nor Hunt seemed interested in breaking eye contact, their bodies inches apart. She tried controlling her breathing, but her anger only grew by the moment.

"Very well. I appreciate your sincerity, Miss Swanson. I can only hope I'm never in a situation again where I'm forced to hear it."

And with that, Hunt turned around and walked away with no hesitation. Claire watched him re-enter the building as her legs wobbled. Once she was sure she was alone, she could only indulge in the tumult of her mind; Claire leaned against the balustrade once more and shattered into tears.

For half-an-hour or so, that was the only activity she was capable of partaking in. The dread at any attempt at making sense of anything made her spiral into more desperation, and along came more tears. All of his words were terribly hurtful, but even more so was the bitterness of the situation she was in. What even were the odds of this even happening!?

After a few more minutes so she could recompose herself, Claire decided she could not stay there the entire night. Slipping on her mask again, she marched back inside the building, resolute in finding Addison and leaving that place, and that night, forever behind.

[indelen]

This is my reread of the Lockwood and Co. Books, organized by @blue-boxes-magic-and-tea, I'll make a general summary of several chapters and then post bits and pieces that jumped out at me.

Part II, Chapters 7-8:

35 Portland Row is such a perfect home base. An urban Hobbit Hole. Magician’s nephew townhouse. Familiar and homey, yet exiting and unusual. Just the right amount of familiar and unfamiliar things that would appeal to a kid. The tantalizing fantasy of independence mixed with the fear of the outside world that the young target audience first starts to comprehend at that age. The dream of living with your crush and all your friends, eating donuts for breakfast, staying up to all hours of the night, being dashing, running things, having swords, being better at something than the adults who are an arbitrary force you put on a façade and appease and try to get rid of as soon as possible. Your challenge being comprehending mortality, coming to terms that death is a part of life and can happen to anyone around you, even your most loved ones. And your enemy being corrupt adults who run corporations that already traded your future, all your hopes and dreams, all your potential for just a bit more money, prestige, life they desire. It says something that a book for a modern teenager is one about kids just trying to survive in a world adults ruined and how difficult it is to keep a place of your own and your integrity safe and in one piece.

Miscellaneous:

It's sweet that Lockwood sees Portland Row as being not just "his" but belonging to anyone who is part of the agency. This is his home, legally he is the sole owner of it, but he views the house as Lucy's and George's in equal measure because they are part of Lockwood and Co. He opens his home to people not in the manner of a landlord (we don't really ever find out if he charges Geroge or Lucy any rent, I suspect he doesn't although informally they all probably pitch in on maintenance). What I love about Lockwood is he's such a paradox, he's extremely inviting and yet intensely closed off. He both opens his home to friends and craves a family and is also deeply emotionally stunted and detached.

George has lived with Lockwood for only maybe a year or so and the agency has only been registered three months and yet he gives off such intense "Elizabeth from Accounts Payable whose been with the company for twenty years and has weathered every kind of bullshit and is counting down to retirement" vibes like, Sir, how do you sound so 50 at 15?

Lockwood is so funny because one moment he's actually being a good boss and agency head – conducting good interviews, watching for emotional responses, making background checks on potential hires, giving a tour to new employee where he firmly but politely draws boundaries - and then the next moment he's absolutely peacocking to a cute girl like "look, look, I'm also powerful and a big deal!"

I also think it's funny that Lockwood strikes out with Lucy a lot more from the beginning then we realize. Lucy is traumatized, emotionally immature and has not been socialized properly. Her self-confidence has been worn away by her "prettiness is not your job" mother and having to be the breadwinner for her family so early in life. There are these moments early on where someone more adept at flirting would have picked up on Lockwood being a showoff and maybe played with it, but bless her she's 13 going on 14 here, literally no one can flirt at that age so she's just incapable of seeing what is going on or give it any time of day. It's no wonder that it takes them literal years to get anywhere.

Also, who let Lockwood keep that watch? no one right? He stole it. He told the cops there's a shitload of death glows in a garden and they probably brought him along to raid the home of a serial killer to help look evidence or whatever and there was a watch lying around and Lockwood was like “ooooooh for my murder scrapbook!” and swiped it.

The mention of an uncle early on is such a clever thing because it’s relevant to the plot during the interview to show how sensitive Lucy really is, but it’s also a red herring. When George mentions Lockwood losing his parents young and him being “in care” of some relative, the reader immediately thinks "ah yes, that must have been that nice uncle!" It lets us assume that whatever mystery there is about the room it must be about his parents. It's why the reveal at the end of Whispering Skull is such a surprise and shows just how little we know about him.

Yea she's gone.

It took less than a week for her to go from describing Lockwood as looking like "a priest on a toilet" to this teenage horniness. My disaster crush in Gr.7 had about the same trajectory. Also reminds me of Mei's completely realistically portrayed crush on Some Convenience Store Guy in "Turning Red". Flips on like a switch and before you know it, you're doodling the most mortifying thing ever conceived my man. 13 is such a cursed age, my god.

I’ve mentioned this before in a post, but Lucy lashes out at people for things she hates about herself. Her internal gripes about Geroge are not that he’s rude (even though he definitely is to her) she’s not mean about him being objectively less Talented then her, she’s never makes fun of him for being smarter or better educated than she is. Lucy can handle outright hostility pretty well and she’s not self-conscious about her talent or lack of education. But she is, I think, deeply insecure about her appearance. And like so many girls her age it’s the chink in her armor she knows to hide and wallpaper over with dismissal and disdain. She pretends she doesn’t care but she does, and the more her feelings for Lockwood grow the more it shows in how she talks about herself and how she talks about others.

Sometimes you’re reading a book and oooh there’s a romance subplot and A falls for B (often instead of C or D) and you think … but why? why is A in love with B actually? What is it about them that makes the attraction click? But with Lucy it’s so obvious why she is almost immediately taken with Lockwood, but also why she doesn’t realize it. From Lucy’s POV, for all his flaws Lockwood is the opposite of what Jacobs was. He enters with the teams and he’s the last to leave (he even jumps out the burning building last). She doesn’t feel alone and unsupported. He takes accountability for any error on the case, easily and without any shifting of blame. Sure he’s vainglorious and a bit irresponsible and impulsive and all that. He’s 14-15 at most - that’s normal enough and she’s a kid like him, she gets it. But Lockwood is also a kid burdened with a lot of responsibly and I think Lucy is in a unique position to appreciate this and admire him for taking it on as he does. And that admiration neatly tricks her into thinking that’s all there is to her feelings for a long, long time because she can’t tell her feels apart worth a damn.

I’m going to start a Lucy describes Lockwood’s smile count: 6

[novasintheroom]

144. Nervous

♡ Pairing - Vash x Reader

♡ Word count - 1.1k

♡ Warnings - none

Part of the 150 Bullets drabble series on AO3

The urge hits him on a random Tuesday.

There he is, minding his own business, on the way to the gunsmith to buy more bullets and maybe snag a donut somewhere along the way. Then there’s something shiny, on the ground, there. He picks it up – a button, probably popped off someone’s vest while they weren’t looking. It’s opalescent; it gives off a dull sheen of rainbow of colors on white when he moves it this way and that.

A small treasure, to be sure, but it hits him while looking at one of the four holes drilled into the button – this would be perfect for you.

He pockets it and goes on his way with a skip in his step.

He presents it to you later when you’ve met up outside a small Mom and Pop’s restaurant in town.

“Oh, pretty,” you hum, looking at it in the dying light. “Where’d you find it?”

“On the ground,” he says proudly.

You give him a smile. “Living up to your ‘birdie’ name, huh?” You slide it back across the table. You’re giving it back.

He pouts. “No, it’s for you!”

You raise your brows. “You…want me to sew it on something for you?”

“No, it’s just…” he struggles for words. It’s just meant for you. “Just keep it.”

“Vash, what am I gonna do with a button?”

He’s saved from answering when the waiter comes with your orders. He doesn’t see you with the button again after dinner. He’s disappointed.

The next time it happens, you’re both creeping through a bandit camp, trying to save a group of traveling merchants who got themselves tangled up in a deal gone wrong. The guards are none-the-wiser or knocked out, and the rest of them are sleeping off the alcohol they stole from the shipment. You just may get away with this.

Until a BANG goes off. The bullet misses his head by millimeters, the shell landing at his feet. The guard is yelling something, rousing the rest of the bandits to get up (albeit slowly and on wobbly feet), but his attention is on the bullet shell.

It’s shiny.

Quicker than he has time to process, he pockets the hot shell and grabs your hand, running through the camp.

Afterward, with the merchants saved and the bandit camp destroyed (by their own doing, no less), you’re both sitting by the fire, enjoying the sounds of celebration around you. The merchants have circled their carts, freely dancing to a banjo someone pulled out.

Vash thinks to bring out the shell. He palms it in his hand, lets it roll and glint on his fingers. Then, he takes your hand and puts it there.

You look at him strangely. “A bullet shell?”

Something in him withers at your look. But he manages to nod and smile. “Found it earlier.”

Your lips twitch upward. “On the ground, I’m guessing?”

Now he feels foolish. Nervous. What is he doing, presenting you with a bullet shell? A part of him cries that it’s too dull to be considered worthy. Another part wonders – worthy of what? His brain feels fuzzy; two parts of him fighting for a spot – logic, and whatever the hell is going on with him. He lets out a bashful laugh and looks down.

You hum, and he glances over as you roll the shell on your palm. You pocket it, and he doesn’t see it again. He’s disappointed.

The third time, Vash gets suspicious. In the middle of prying off a rare shiny nail from the inside of a derelict ship, he wonders, Is this a Plant thing?

He’s collected shiny things over the years. Lost them, hidden them, has a stash or two across the deserts. But he’s never considered giving them to someone. Not until you. He wonders what’s different. The nail is placed in his pocket as he returns to the small camp you’ve set up outside the ruins.

You’re working on something in your lap. You glance over at him and give him a smile before going back to your task. He sits nearby, eager to present the nail, but knowing it’s better to wait for your attention.

“Hey, look at what I made,” you say. Without preamble, you hold up your creation: a singular earring, a pearly button dangling from its chain. The pearly button, to be exact. “And – “ you hold up another earring – this one a bullet shell (the bullet shell) with a drilled hole, a golden hook weaved through.

Something blooms inside him. He isn’t sure what to call it. Reverence, perhaps. It grows into something giddy when you show him how the button looks on your ear. “Now we can match!...Sorta.” You purse your lips and wait for his reaction.

He reaches out and touches your ear lobe gently, fingering the chain and button. “I thought you didn’t keep them,” he says, quiet.

You shake your head. “I just didn’t know what to do with them for a while. Then I thought, ‘hey, I kinda know how to make jewelry, maybe I can do that!’ Voila!” You reach up and pinch the button. “Not as nice as your earring, but…”

“No!” He exclaims, taking your hands in his own. “They’re beautiful! You’re beautiful!”

The two of you stare at each other in bewilderment. Where did that come from? But you have grace, and with a smile, you say, “Well, thank you, Vash, that’s very sweet of you.”

Vash’s cheeks burn, and he laughs off the rest of his embarrassment. What is going on with him? Then he remembers the nail. His blush comes back. The logical part of him fights it. But the Plant part of him – whatever that means – demands he present it. So he does.

“Um,” he starts, scratching at his neck. “I…sorta found something for you in there.”

You smile, the button winking in rainbows against your cheek. “On the ground again?”

He laughs, “No, in the wall this time.”

“Ah, keeping me on my toes.”

He’s nervous again. He pulls out the nail. It’s slightly bent. He’d tried to straighten it out on the way back, but... “It’s…I mean, it’s shiny, and you don’t have to do anything with it, but…”

You take it from his outstretched hand. Hum. “I could probably curl it and either make a necklace or a ring out of it…blunt the edges.” You laugh and nudge him with your shoulder. “Thanks. You know, if I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re doing some weird courting ritual with all these shiny presents.”

You laugh, but Vash goes still as the pieces fall together. The shiny objects, the need to present them to only you, the feeling of acceptance and excitement and attraction when you showed him your earrings –

He’s trying to court you. Plant-style.

Oh. No.

[wade-winston-wilson]

Buck: I am livid! Chim stole the last donut, and then the Jeep got towed, and don't even get me started on that chick at Starbucks who felt you up--and to top it all off, Maddie and Chim gave my babysitting shift to Albert. Albert! I'm supposed to be Jee's favorite uncle, Eddie. This is just gonna give Albert an incentive to try and one-up me. Hello? Are you even listening to me?

Eddie, distractedly signing papers: Yes, dear.

Chim: Really? Because he lost me at "donut".

Hen: Think I dropped off somewhere around "Starbucks".

Bobby, looking up from his own paper work: Oh. Hey, Buck. When did you get in?

Buck, throwing his hands up: Unbelievable! I hate all of you.

Eddie, still signing paperwork: Hey, I was listening!

Hen: Uh-huh. Then what did he say?

Eddie: Chim stole his donut, the jeep got towed, he's still upset because that woman at Starbucks pinched my ass--here, Bobby. I'm ready to trade--and now after so savagely stealing the last of the donuts, Chim and Maddie have given his uncle and niece time away to Albert, when everyone knows Buck has been striving for months to be Jee's favorite uncle.

Hen:

Chim:

Bobby, pen in the air:

Buck:

Eddie, finally looking up: What? Buck, sign this.

Buck, signing while staring awestruck at Eddie: Marry me.

[hoonieyun]

"melody of a broken heart"

“melody of a broken heart”

pairing: riize anton lee x reader “y/n”

genre: lovers to exes - angst

plot: a happy relationship is what most people want when it comes to finding love. love is a strong word and it can mean a lot of things. you can love a person, a song, a feeling, an item, but what happens when you fall out of love? 

warning: not much, a lot of cursing and toxic behavior in a relationship

notes: like i said… i am obsessed with riize lol not proofread and if there are any warnings you’d like me to add pls lmk, as per usual, italics are dialogue. also mentions of riize members and ningning as y/n’s best friend! enjoy!!!

word count: 8142

“hey, what are you doing next weekend?” you ask anton while plopping onto his bed next time. he almost instantly moves over, not in the way so that he could make room for you, but in the way so that he could have some distance from you. 

“uhh, i think i’ve got some plans with the guys. gonna hit the studio, i think.” he responds softly, eyes still glued to his phone. “you think..? what you’re not sure about your plans?” you ask, questioning his intention. he drops the phone on his lap with a sigh that turns into a smile, “no, i do have plans this weekend, but what’s up?” he asks while moving closer to you; almost like he noticed that you were starting to get frustrated with his behavior. you stare at him for a moment, your faces are closer now as you’re both laying on your stomachs with your chin propped up by your elbows. 

“nothing, i thought you’d want to check out that record shop that just opened downtown.” you say while turning over onto your back. opting to stare into his bedroom ceiling instead of his eyes, a way to avert your true emotions behind what you really want from him. “uhh, maybe. when?” anton asks. you don’t respond for a second, getting lost in thought as your eyes bore holes into anton’s ceiling. “hey!” he says with a playful shove, knocking you out of your thoughts. you take in a big breath before responding, “nothing… i think i’m gonna head home.” you say while rolling off his bed. anton throws his hands up with a shrug, “what? you don’t wanna go to the record store?” he asks. “nah, it’s more your thing anyway. just wanted to ask if you wanted to go but you’re busy so it’s alright.” you explain while slipping your shoes on. “text me when you get home!” anton says as you make your way out of his room. you roll your eyes as you leave, scoffing at the fact that anton didn’t even bother to walk you out of his apartment. 

it’s almost 6pm when you leave anton’s place. you don’t live that far and the sun was still up so you didn’t bother walking home. the wind was a bit chilly but the sun felt warm, you were excited for spring; it was your favorite season and luckily your hometown didn’t receive a lot of rain so you were able to enjoy the outdoors before it got too hot outside during the summer. 

you passed by a couple corner stores on your way home, popping in to grab a drink and a small snack; opting to eat some donut holes and a bottle of tea for dinner instead of a real meal. before you knew it, you were walking up the stairs to your apartment and jumbling your keys around to unlock the door. when you enter your’re greeted by your small dog. a 3 year old cavalier king charles spaniel named teeny your boyfriend got you on your 2nd anniversary. you bent down to give her some kisses and rub her belly before making your way to your room. 

the air was very still in there, almost like it had been unoccupied for months. you crack open a window and change out of your clothes into something more comfortable, a pair of shorts and one of anton’s hoodies you stole. you shuffle into your bed and teeny follows, jumping onto your mattress and making herself comfortable by your legs. you’re munching on a donut hole when you get a text from anton, “you home yet?” he asks. you quickly swipe away he text and go back to scrolling on your phone when another text from anton appears, “don’t even try to ignore me.” you texts with the annoyed face emoji. you find the text kind of cute, especially when he uses emojis, so you give in and respond. “yes, i’m home babe.” you respond quickly as you watch the indicator change from delivered to read. you wait a couple minutes and it continues to stay as a read, getting annoyed that anton doesn’t even bother to respond. 

you spend the rest of the night mindlessly scrolling on your phone and playing with teeny, trying to brush away the feeling that your relationship with anton hasn’t been ideal the last few weeks. you suddenly check your phone when you realize it’s now 3am. thankfully you didn’t have work the next day so you didn’t mind. you were going to continue scrolling when your tummy grumbled, you weren’t planning on eating anything but you decided to make ramyeon because it sounded good and you had some green onions about to go bad anyway. 

as you made your way to the kitchen with teeny in tow, you decide to watch some instagram stories. some of your friends studying, funny photos of people’s dogs, and you stop in your track when one of anton’s friends, wonbin, story appears and its anton and his friend group. they’re in anton’s room, a room you know far too well, and they were just playing with anton’s instruments. a part of you was a bit hurt he didn’t ask you to stay so you could hang out with them or even ask you to come back after you had got home since you didn’t live too far away. with your appetite gone, you made your way back to your bed, tossed your phone into a pile of clothes in the corner of your room but not before putting it on do not disturb. you shut your eyes and let sleep takeover. 

you’re awoken the next day by teeny pawing at your sleeping figure and soft whimpers indicating she was probably hungry. you get up to feed her when you realize it was still dark out. you look around your room to find your phone, which is now under a few old clothes as the pile of clothes before toppled after you tossed your phone. picking it up and checking the time, it reads 8:56pm. had you slept through the whole next day? your phone says it was now the day after which leaves you shocked. you’re thrown off by all of the notifications on your phone, some missed calls and texts from anton, some from your best friend, and to your surprise, a couple from anton’s friend. before you’re able to check out all of the notifications, teeny barks at you reminding you to feed her. “sorry babygirl!” you say while quickly getting up to fill her food bowl downstairs. 

you’re trying to catch up on notifcations on your phone while simultaneously filling the food ball, causing you to accidentally overfill the bowl. you don’t mind as teeny is probably starving as she’s gone the whole day without eating since you slept through the whole day. your stomach grumbles at you, reminding you that you as well haven’t eaten all day. 

you sat at your kitchen counter for a moment to catch up on what’s been going on, still confused as to how you ended up sleeping for so long. 

text message from bestie: 

“hey girl! you free this weekend? my parent’s are leaving town so i have the place to myself if you wanna have a sleepover!” sent at 2:33pm

“you okay? you’re probably with anton, just text me if you’re down! you can bring anton and his friends too, seunghan is cute.” sent at 5:56pm

text message from unknown (could be: wonbin):

“hey! you coming to our show this weekend?” sent at 4:27pm

text message from unknown (could be: sohee):

“y/nnnnn, anton said he hasn’t heard from you all day? he’s a bit a sad today :c” sent at 4:48pm

“when did anton’s friends even get my  number?” you thought to yourself. you found it a bit weird considering you’ve only met them once but even weirder that it seemed like it was such a big deal you were MIA for a day. 

text message from chanyoung <3:

“hey babe, you up?” sent at 9:36am

“come over later?” sent at 10:05am

“are you upset? did i do something???” 10:23am

*missed call at 10:30am*

*missed call at 10:32am*

“y/n if i did something just tell me, you know how much i hate when you ignore me…” sent at 11am

*missed call at 11:16am*

*missed call at 12:32pm*

*missed call at 1:03pm*

“i stopped by and you weren’t home? i heard teeny barking but it seemed like you aren’t home. just text me when you can i guess…” sent at 3:21pm

*missed call at 4:06pm*

“just got to sungchan-hyungs for practice, we’re working on a new song today.” sent at 4:09pm

“what’s going on? where are you?? i just hope you’re ok…” sent at 7:19pm

you were a bit perplexed, nothing happened the whole, at least for you, but it seemed like it was such a big deal to everyone else you were gone. it wasn’t like this just yesterday, when it seemed like anton couldn’t care less about you; disregarding your efforts to spend time and barely acknowledging your presence while laying next to him. 

you sit in silence for a minute and realize teeny had devoured her bowl of food and was now staring at you with her head tilted. “outside?” you quickly ask and she does a spin followed by a bark. you walk towards your front door and let her out onto the front yard. you take a seat on the steps in front of your home and decide to give anton a call. 

“y/n? oh my gosh, where are you? are you okay?” he instantly answers and begins to ask questions. “anton, i’m fine. i just slept through the whole day is all.” you explain shortly. you hear him release a heavy sigh of relief. “you scared me…” he says softly. you heart melts a little, whenever anton acts endearingly always makes your heart flutter. “i’m okay, don’t worry. thank you for worrying about me but i was just really tired.” you explain further. 

“did you have dinner already? i quite literally haven’t eaten all day so i’m pretty hungry.” you ask anton, hoping he would come have dinner with you. “i could eat!” he says. “cool, your place or mine?” you ask him getting up from your spot on the stairs. “i’ll come to you, you’re probably tired and i started walking over as soon as i got your call.” you can’t help but smile at his words. feeling as if the negativity you were so focused on yesterday within your relationship could’ve all just been in your head. “ok! i’ll start the ramyeon so it’s almost ready by the time you get here.” you say your quick goodbyes before entering your home and calling for teeny to follow suit. 

the noodles are a few minutes from being finished by the time anton knocks on your door. you open it and you’re instantly engulfed in his arms. he’s rubbing your back and squeezing you, “you need to stop putting your phone on do not disturb, i thought you died or got kidnapped.” he says into the top of your head. for a moment you just enjoy being in his arms, the smell of his hoodie, and the feeling of his broad shoulders and strong arms wrapping around you. you peek out from his chest to look at him, “you’re so dramatic, come on the food is almost done.” you say, breaking away from the hug and taking the pot of noodles off the stove. 

“i’m not hungry, just have it all.” he says to which your smile drops a bit. “what? i thought you were going to have dinner with me?” you say trying to hide your sadness. “i just got back from dinner but i wanted to make sure you ate.” he says taking a seat at the kitchen counter, picking up teeny off the floor, “poor teeny, she was probably so worried about her mommy being passed out all day.” he says jokingly. a part of you is trying not to overthink, the negative thoughts of your relationship were starting to fill your head again and you were trying your best to keep them out. 

you take a seat across from anton on the counter and begin to eat your food. not caring that it was still very hot because you were starving. you’re eating in silence after realizing anton hasn’t really said anything. you look up and see he’s on his phone again, smiling, and occasionally letting out a chuckle. “what’s so funny?” you ask, wanting to actually spend time with him and not just feel like he was some guy in your home. “huh? oh, nothing. shotaro-hyung just sent me a funny video of eunseok-hyung.” he quickly explains, going back to putting all of his attention to his phone.

you remember the text you got from wonbin, about their show this weekend. “sooo, are you busy all weekend? maybe we can still check out that record store if you’ve got time?” you ask, almost testing him to see if you could catch him in a lie of some sort. 

“mmm, yeah. i’ve got practice saturday and sunday my grandparents are coming to visit.” he says without even looking up from his phone. you could almost feel a piece of your heart break. it’s not like he told a huge lie but he still lied. instead of being honest and inviting you to his show, he made an excuse not to be around you. you sadly look down and went back to quietly eating your dinner.

anton left not much later after you had finished your dinner. dumping your dishes into the sink. you were starting to think that all of these negative thoughts you’ve been having wasn’t only in your head and maybe it was the reality of your relationship with anton. you were about to take a shower when your phone begins to ring. 

“y/n! where the hell have you been!!” your best friend, ningning yells after you answer the phone. “sorry ning! i slept through the whole day, i just finished dinner, was about to shower when you called.” you say apologetically. “i was so ready to bust your door down but i figured your boyfriend would do it.” she say while laughing. “yeah… something like that.” you say quietly. ningning could instantly tell something was off, “what’s wrong?” she asks. “and don’t even try to tell me nothing is wrong. we’ve been friends since we could count to 10.” she says almost threateningly. you laugh for a short moment before explaining your theories about your relationship and how lately it hasn’t really felt like a relationship. 

“my offer stills stands! come over for the weekend? we could have a sleepover just like old times, i can pick you up right now.” ningning says trying to find a way to cheer you up. she’s always been by your side and someone you could truly rely on. after high school, you and anton went to the same university for a year. he dropped out the next year to pursue music and ningning transferred to a private university a couple cities away so you rarely see each other anymore. “you know what, i’m not even taking no as an answer. pack a bag and be ready when i get there.” she says and you can hear her grab her car keys. “ning, i'm naked right now i was about to shower.” you say even though you haven’t even taken anything off. “girl, i don’t care. shower at my place, i’m on my way. byeee!” she says before ending the call. you scoff and drop your head a bit with a sigh. 

half an hour later, ningning is at your front door, hip out and head tilted waiting for you. she picks up teeny and grabs your weekend bag. “thanks ning” you say softly as she places your bag and dog into the back seat. the ride to ningnings apartment felt short, you mostly looked out the window while sang along to the radio. 

you settled into her apartment, letting teeny roam free. “so… anton. what’s going on?” she asks. you plop down onto her bed face into the mattress. you mumble some words before ningning cuts you off, “girl i can’t hear a thing you’re saying.” she says to which you turn your head towards her; explaining in further detail the last few days and adding the fact that he lied to you about his whereabouts this weekend. 

“that jerk!” ningning says with a high pitched gasp. “do you want me to punch him? i’ll do it!” at this point ningning is now standing up on her bed with hands on her hips. “i’ll break his guitar or that little computer he always walks around with. i’ll even take on his friends, i can take down the big ones!” she says while punching her fist into her other hand. you grab her hands and drag her to sit back down. “no one is punching or taking anyone down ningning.” you say trying to calm her down. “i’m serious y/n! i’ll break his nose!” she says almost yelling. “yizhuo!” you exclaim and ningning instantly comes to her senses. you’ve always done this with her, whenever she gets too riled up you’d just call her by her traditional name and she’d snap out of it like a mom called their child their full name when they’re in trouble. 

the rest of the night goes smoothly. you take a shower while ningning spends some time of teeny. you do typical girl sleepover activities like doing your nails, skincare, watching movies, and eating snacks. you’re getting ready for bed when ningning lets out a high pitched gasp followed by a devious facial expression. “what? why? why are you making that face, i hate when you make that face, it means you’re up to something.” you say while trying to hide under the blanket. ningning jumps on the bed, startly teeny causing her to jump off the bed and continue her sleep on the floor near ningning’s stack of plushies. “i have a brilliant plan! what if we went to his show?” she suggests. you make a face at her, “what? that’s stupid i’m mad at him i don’t wanna see him!” you defend. “okay, but think about it. imagine how bad he’ll feel after seeing you there and you weren’t even invited.” she explains to which you respond by showing her wonbin’s text, which is kind of an invite. 

ningning snatches your phone and types something and tosses it back to you. “what did you do?” you say when your phone surprisingly gets a text. 

text message from wonbin:

“sure thing! we’re playing at 8pm saturday night, here’s the address. see you and your friend there!”

“Seven Sirens, 127 N St”

wonbin had texted you back with the details of their show and the address. a local bar named seven sirens. you’d been there a few times with anton, once being where you had your first fight. “ningning i can’t believe you texted him.” you say and ningning grabs your phone. “i can’t believe he responded so fast.” she says while reading the text. 

“what if wonbin tells anton i’m coming? then it defeats the whole purpose!” you explain and ningning begins typing again on your phone. “already ahead of you babe.” she says and hands you your phone afterwards. she had texted wonbin that you showing up was a surprise and not to tell anton. you look at her with a straight face and she just smiles and shrugs. “come on, let’s go to sleep, we have a big day tomorrow!” she says while getting under the blankets and turning off the lights. 

your follow ningning and try to get some sleep but sleep doesn’t come as easy to you as it does ningning. in just a few moments you can hear her soft snores while you’re awake for another hour worrying about the events that are going to unravel saturday night. 

you’re awoken by ningning jumping on the bed followed by teeny also jumping onto the bed and barking. “come on y/n wake up! i ordered breakfast it should be here soon.” she says while pulling the blankets off of you. you get up with a stretch and follow ningning into her kitchen. just as you’re sitting down at her dining table, her doorbell rings, she runs to grab the food at her doorstep and sets it up on the table. “you should stop ordering out so much, your bank account is going to hate you.” you say while scooping some eggs and fruit onto your plate. “eh, it already hates me. plus i don’t know how to cook, do you want me to burn down my apartment?” she says while taking a bite out of her croissant. “true…” you quickly respond and the two of you finish breakfast while teeny eats out of the bowl you brought with you in your weekend bag. 

it’s a couple hours later when you and ningning start to get ready for the show. you’re starting to get nervous again when ningning comes up behind you, she wraps her arms aroud your neck and settles her head on top of yours. “we don’t have to do this. i know i was being a little crazy last night but if it’s too much for you we can stay home.” she says trying to comfort you. you look at her through the mirror you’re currently sitting in front of for a moment before responding, “no… i feel like we need to go.” you say and a smile breaks out onto ningning’s face. “ugh! thank god, i was going to be bummed if you wanted to stay home!” she says with a laugh as she retreats into her closet to change. you shake your head and laugh with her. 

it’s 7:29pm when the two of you finish getting ready. ningning is in low cut black flared leather pants, a baby blue tube top with an image of a bear on it,  a pink knit bolero, and platform heels. you were dressed in a two piece green silk crop top and skirt that landed a couple inches above your knees paired with matching heels. you thanked ningning for the outfit as she put on perfume. “no problem bestie” she says. “come on, uber is here!” ningning says while grabbing your hand leading you to the front door. you knelt down towards teeny before you left, “be a good girl teeny! don’t poop or pee on anything besides your doggy pad.” you say before patting her head and leaving. 

the uber ride to the show felt like an eternity. it felt like the longer you were in the car the less you could breathe. ningning noticed this through your leg bouncing, she asks the driver to roll down a window and she places her hand on your knee and softly rubs it. “its okay, if at any moment you wanna leave, we leave okay?” she says trying to comfort you. you nod worriedly and the car comes to a halt, “we’re here ladies.” the driver says. you and ningning exit the car and thank the driver before he speeds off.  

ningning holds your hand, guiding you towards the entrance of the pub; a bright red neon sign that reads “Seven Sirens”. as ningning pulls you to enter the building, you halt, causing ningning to slightly trip on and turn around. “are you ok? do you wanna go?” she asks while coming closer to you. you’re staring at the neon sign, the red light illuminating your face, slightly blinding your vision. the neon sign slightly flickers and the light fades for a moment before coming back on. ningning squeezes your hand softly, trying to get your attention. “y/n?” she says. you let out a deep breath, “come on.” you say and now you’re the one dragging her into the pub. 

you and ningning are finding your way through the crowd, it’s a lot bigger inside than it seems and the place was packed. a part of you feeling more hurt that there was such a big turnout and anton didn’t invite you. such a special moment for him to be able to perform the music he makes for such a huge crowd and you would’ve missed it. now you were there, somewhat of an imposter; knowing anton didn’t want you there, almost as if you were trespassing. you and ningning push pass a couple patrons, some college guys grabbing drinks for the weekend, some middle aged women who seem to be trying to enjoy some time away from their families, and definitely some underaged people who somehow got in, probably with a fake ID. 

you find your way to the bar, resting your arms on the counter while you and ningning catch your breath. it felt so stuffy in there you almost forgot that you were anxious about something else in the first place. “what can i get you two lovely ladies?” the bartender asks. a guy who looked to be in his late twenties, tattoos run down his left arm. you’re still catching your breath so ningning decides to order for the two of you. “yeah, just 2 vodka sodas please. heavy lime, thanks.” she says while handing him her card to start a tab. “you ok?” she says while rubbing your back. “yeah i’m good. i think i just need a drink.” you say while looking at her. the bartender soon hands the two of you your drinks. you grab it from him and down the whole thing, ningning just stares at you in awe. “damn girl, slow down.” she says jokingly. you slam the glass on the counter and wince, the alcohol burning on it’s way down. 

ningning is sipping on her drink and looking into the crowd when she spots wonbin who seems to be making his way over to the two of you. she slaps your shoulder to try to get your attention. you look at her confused and see that she’s slightly pointing her head into a specific direction. you find wonbin who was now approaching and you straighten up. “hey! you made it!” he says with a toothy smile. “yeah! we’re just grabbing a drink.” you say and turn to look at ningning and realize she’s giving heart eyes and twirling her hair while looking at wonbin. you swat her arm, “right ning?” you say and she snaps out of her trance. “yeah.” she says while smiling and extending her hand to wonbin, “i’m ningning by the way.” wonbin accepts her hand and shakes it. “wonbin!” he says with a smile and slight blush. 

“you want me to grab chanyoung?” wonbin asks, pointing somewhere into the back of the pub. “no!” you exclaim slightly scaring him. you awkwardly chuckle, “she’s here to surprise him. he thinks she’s out of town.” ningning explains. wonbin nods, remembering the text you had sent him the night before. “oh yeah! cool well, i hope you guys enjoy the show. we’re performing a new song anton wrote. i gotta go get ready.” he says giving the two of you a quick hug before running off to the back. 

“he’s so dreamy…” ningning says staring out to the direction wonbin left. “ningning focus! i can’t have you losing focus i can barely think right now.” you say while turning around to ask the bartender for another drink. “okay so what do we do? do we just jump him after the show?” ningning asks still sipping on her first drink. “what? no, i’m just going to walk up to him and if he tries some shit about me being here then i’m going to confront him.” you say finishing your drink. you turn around to set down your glass when you hear a voice you know all to well speak into a microphone. 

“hey everyone! i hope you’re having a fun night so far, we’re riize and we hope you enjoy are set.” anton says before he steps back and grabs his guitar. you recognize all of his friends on the stage. wonbin and eunseok had guitars, sohee and seunghan front and center on the mic, shotaro on drums, anton on the keyboard, and sungchan on bass. “come on, let’s get closer.” ningning says grabbing your hand as she pushes through the crowd. “not too close ning! i don’t want him to see me.” you say and she stops with just a few people in front of her. “this should be good.” she says. “just hide behind me if he looks over here.”

they begin to sing, playing songs you’ve heard before. some of them were original songs the group worked together to write and others were renditions of popular songs. you watched anton intensely, especially when it was his turn to sing. you almost felt bad and that you couldn’t enjoy his beautiful voice because of how upset you were. maybe you were just overthinking? maybe he didn’t invite you because he forgot? or he was shy? you’re taken out of your thoughts when the song ends and anton speaks up again. “this next song is a new one we’ve been practicing. i’ve been working on it for a while now and it’s a bit personal. it’s called falling.” he says. anton generally writes somewhat happy songs so when he mentions the song was personal you couldn’t help but feel something in the pit of your stomach. 

the song begins and it’s a lot slower than the other songs they performed. you made sure to pay attention to the lyrics because it was a song you hadn’t heard before. you realize the song had a very somber and sad tone. anton begins to sing his part when you notice the lyrics he’s singing are about falling out of love with someone. the song building into the chorus with sohee taking over, singing about losing interest and not knowing how to be happy anymore because you don’t have the same kind of love for the person you used to love so much. you’re starting to realize the song is about you and anton’s relationship. 

seunghan and anton share the bridge of the song, singing about creating distance between yourself and the other person because “distance makes the love grow fonder” but he realizes that it only makes him realize the distance is confirming his loss of love. each word anton beautifully sings is like a knife to your heart. tears begin to fall uncontrollably down your face so you wipe your eyes. when you open them again you see anton is looking right at you. the two of you make eye contact as the song ends. the group all stand together to bow at the front of the stage but anton is still fixated on you. you shake your head at him and head towards the exit of the building.

ningning follows closely behind, making sure to be there for you as your tears continue to fall. the two of you make it outside and the first thing you do is run your hands through your hair and let out a groan. “hey, i’m so sorry babe. it’s going to be okay.” ningning says while giving you a hug. you hug her back and cry into her shoulder as she comforts you on the street outside the pub. 

anton jumps off the stage and runs after you. the rest of the members are surprised by his actions as they watch anton push through the crowd towards the exit. he finally makes it to the exit when he finds you crying into ningning’s shoulder. 

“babe…” anton says softly. you raise your head from ningning’s shoulder, seeing anton in that moment made something go haywire in your head. you let ningning go and walk towards him. “what the fuck is wrong with you?” you say almost in a whisper. anton is speechless. shaking his head back and forth and retracting his hands. trying to come up with some explanation but no words were coming out and his own body was betraying him; stiffening and unable to even move. 

“is this your sick way of telling me you wanna break up?” you ask, voice slightly rising. “you didn’t even invite me to this show… and now i know why.” you turn around shortly but go back to facing him. “you have nothing to say?” you question him, moving closer to his standing figure. “you had so much to say on stage but now it’s nothing?”...

“what did i ever do to you anton? i did my best to be the most loving and supportive girlfriend i could be. i was there for you every step of the way, from our first day of college to even helping you convince your parents that dropping out & pursuing music was okay.” anton was going to speak but you cut him off, “i’m not done!” you say, now yelling. people on the street were starting to stare but you didn’t care. 

anton’s friends pile out of the pub and find the two of you arguing. “everything okay?” sungchan asks. “no! it’s not!” you yell back. “anton wrote that fucking song about me. the one about falling out of love? yeah that had our relationship written all over it. you think i wouldn’t be able to tell that it was about us?” you ask him and again he had nothing to say. “you’re a joke… and we’re done.” you say as you got close to his face. you stare at each other for a moment before you swiftly turn around and start walking down the street. “where are you going?” anton finally speaks up. “anywhere but here!” you say with a middle finger in the air. 

ningning lets you walk alone for a bit, before joining you she turns around and throws her drink at anton. “you’re a dick.” ningning says and scroffs. she could hear “oohs” and “ahhs”  from the guys and random people on the street. “okay, i deserve that.” anton says while wiping his face. “you deserve more than that. but i’m not going to waste anymore time on you than y/n has on your relationship.” she says before jogging after you. 

you and ningning return to her aprtment and the two of you spend the rest of the night in her bed with ningning consoling you. she’s never seen you so heartbroken before. she’s seen you go through breakups before but this one seems so different from the others. “i’m so stupid ning… i saw all of the signs. i spent so many nights, awake and worried he didn’t love me anymore; and i was right…” ningning heard you say while you turned away from her facing the wall. 

“y/n…” she says while sitting up and so do you. “you’re not stupid. it’s not your fault you chose love and anton was too dense to see how much love you gave him.” she said while putting her arm around you. “it doesn’t matter what reason he has for falling out of love with you because you put so much of yourself into your relationship. so much to the point you were starting to love him more than you loved yourself and maybe this is a sign for you to take back that love and put it back into love yourself…” you don’t respond but the two of you stay like that for a moment before you fall asleep. ningning tucks in and falls asleep next to you, closing her eyes and hoping that you’d take her words seriously. that you deserve the love you so freely give others. 

it was the next day, you spent all of sunday in bed with ningning. it felt just like the old days, whenever one of you would go through a breakup in high school you’d spend the night at each other’s house while the other cried it out. it felt comforting to know after all these years you and ningning could really count on one another, like you were actually sisters. “you sure you wanna go home? you can stay here for as long as you need.” she says while carrying teeny in her arms. “yeah i’m sure, i should probably go home. classes start again next week and i have some stuff to catch up on anyways.” you explain while packing up the last of your things into your bag. “you’re welcome here whenever and for however long. always!” she says while giving you a hug. 

your phone dings letting you know your uber was here, “you know you didn’t have to get an uber, i could’ve driven you.” she says while putting her hand on your shoulder. “no ningning, you’ve already done enough for me this weekend.” you say while grabbing her hand. you say your last goodbyes and hug before entering your uber. once inside you roll down the window and thank her for all of her support and kindness and as you drive off you can still see ningning standing at the front of her apartment building waving at you. 

text message from bestie:

“text me when you get home ok? love you always!!” sent just now

after a somewhat long uber ride home, the driver drops you off just around the corner of your home. you thank him for his service, grab your bag and teeny and make your way home when you see anton sitting on the stairs in front of your home. you stop in your steps and he looks up at you and stands. you don’t know what to say and you definitely weren’t expecting to see him, especially not this soon. teeny barks at her dad and she wiggles out of your arms and runs over to him. he kneels down to her and pets her, giving her a small hug. 

you muster up the courage to walk up to him, now standing next to him on the stairs, you just stare at him. you’re looking up at him into his eyes, trying to fight back tears. it seems he was going to begin to say something when you turn away to open the door and enter your home. teeny follows and so does anton but not before you close the door in his face before you could enter. anton sighs and thinks to himself that this was going to be a lot harder than he thought. 

he softly knocks on the door, you contemplate just leaving him our there and just completing ignoring him. however, teeny’s barks and your curiousity get the better of you. you simply couldn’t rest without knowing how you got here. feeling so alone, unloved, and in desperate need of clarity.

anton was about to knock again when the door swings open. you don’t even bother to wait for him to enter, you just open the door and walk upstairs to your room. he enters and closes the door behind him, following you upstairs into your room he knows all so well. 

he approaches your room, he softly pushes the door open and finds you unpacking your things. you’re walking back and forth from your bag on your bed, to your closet, to your dresser, back to the bed. he takes a seat on your bean bag chair. he remembers when he helped you bring it home. the bag was so heavy you could barely drag it around. he carried it up the stairs for you and almost fell a couple times, a smile breaks out onto his face but it quickly fades, “what are you smiling about?” you ask bitterly. he looks up at you from his seat, he doesn’t say anything causing you to roll your eyes and continuing to put your things away. 

“are you just here to sit around? if so you can do that in your own home, i don’t wanna see you right now.” you say as you toss a sweater into you hamper. “if you didn’t want to see me why’d you let me in?” he asks, getting up from his seat and wrapping his arms around your waist from the back. you know this position all too well. anton knows it’s your weakness, in the past whenever you’ve felt sad or upset he would put you in this position. he’d hug you from behind, set his head on top of yours and sway you left and right, and it always worked. but not this time. 

you roughly push him off of you and you turn around to see him with his hands up like he’s been caught doing something he shouldn’t have. “what do you want chanyoung?” you ask. he sighs before responding, “i wanna talk… about us.” he says. you scoff, “how cliche. there’s not any talking we need to do, especially about us. you said enough in your little song saturday night.” you say with such anger that he winces a bit. as if he could feel each word you spoke like a dagger to his heart the way your own heart broke with each lyric he sang. “you weren’t supposed to hear that song… i didn’t invite you because-” you cut him off mid sentence. “because what anton? huh? you think it makes me feel better that you didn’t want me to hear about how you’re falling out of love with me? or the fact that you probably don’t even love me anymore? is that what you didn’t want me to hear?” your voice raised, veins starting to become prominent in your neck, and the redness beginning to creep its way across your cheeks. 

“it doesn’t fucking matter if i was there or not last night. you wrote the song regardless! whether or not i was there, you would’ve still felt that way. me being there only made it more real because you!” you stop halfway to catch your breath. you aren’t used to yelling this much so your voice has already begun to become hoarse. “because you had to live with the fact that you wrote a stupid fucking song about how you don’t love me anymore while i stood there like a dumbass listening to that song.” you spoke in a whisper. 

you were crying again, something you had become used to for the last few days. “you made me look so stupid. do you even know how i would’ve felt? especially if i didn’t show up and hear that song. i would’ve been walking around without a clue in the world that my boyfriend not only wrote a song about not loving me but also performed it to a room full of strangers. like i’m some naive, stupid, clueless little girl grasping onto the last bit of hope that this relationship wasn’t failing.” 

anton stands up and tries to reach for your hands but you reject his offer and hide them behind your back. “listen…” he starts. “i didn’t want to invite you because i didn’t know how to tell you how i felt.” he says and his explanation only makes you angrier. “so you decide to fucking write a song and perform to a bunch of fucking people are you kidding me?” you say, dumbfounded at his response as if it was supposed to justify any of this. “you think that makes me feel better?” you ask. 

“no, i didn’t mean it like that. i just-” he starts and stops, trying to collect his thoughts so he could properly tell you how he feels. he takes a deep sigh and starts over, “i didn’t know how to tell you, so i wrote a song. i didn’t plan on performing at all but the guys heard me singing it and thought we should perform it for the show. they don’t even know it was about you.” he says and some clarity has begun to find its way into your head. “it doesn’t matter anton. you still wrote the song, i would’ve rather you wrote a fucking diary entry than a song.” you’re still frustrated and it doesn’t seem like anton is getting it through his head. 

“i know how much you love music and making music, but turning this into a song before you could even tell me about hurts so much more.” you sit down on your bed, you’re starting to get lightheaded from the yelling and if you’re being honest, you’ve barely slept the last few days. “why couldn’t you have just told me?” you say looking up at him, tears still in your eyes. “you haven’t even told me how you really feel and then i have to learn about it through some song you decided to hide from me?”

anton joins you on your bed and finally is able to get ahold of your hands in his. “i’m so sorry that this is how everything turned out. i know i haven’t been the best boyfriend for a while now, i’ve been distant, and whenever we’re together it seems like my mind is somewhere else. i’ve lied to you, i’ve hidden things from, and you don’t deserve that…” anton says with a quiver in his voice. you can tell he’s fighting back tears but a part of you doesn’t feel any sympathy for him. “i’m sorry y/n, i truly am. but you deserve someone who can give you the love i can’t.” he says and your heart completely shatters. 

the small sliver of hope you had that you could patch up your relationship and work through this was now gone. he doesn’t love you anymore and you don’t even know how long he’s felt this way. you take your hands back, wiping your tears from your face, and stand up. you walk towards your bedroom door with a hand pointed outwards. “get out.” you simply say. 

“what?” anton says, confused. “i didn’t stutter. get. out.” you say firmly. anton begins to walk towards you and he begins to say something but you cut him off before he could even get a word out, “i don’t care what you have to say. just get out.” you say without even looking at him. anton’s heart is aching; seeing you like this hurt him and knowing it was because of him only hurt him more. he walked with his head low out of your home. teeny barking at him as he left almost as if she understood what happened and she was also giving him a piece of her mind. 

you could hear the front door shut behind anton. you quickly run downstairs to lock it and watch him leave through the peep hole. he was slowly leaving your home, walking away from you, and your relationship. a part of you wants to open the door and run into his arms but he’s let you walk away way too many times without coming after you that you decide against it. fighting back the urge to want to fix this because it’s not yours to fix, because you weren’t the one who broke it. no matter how many times you walked away, anton never followed you. nor did he understand that you weren’t walking away, you were being pushed away, by him. 

you slid down the front door and broke down into tears again. thinking about how just a few weeks ago everything seemed so normal, but you guess anton was better at hiding his feelings then than he was now. teeny walks towards you, nudging your arm with her hand, gesturing to give you a hug. you open your arms and she snuggles into your arms, “just me and you, teeny.” you say while standing up to go to your bed. 

you spend the next hour talking to ningning on the phone, catching her up on what happened. she again, threatens to beat anton up, and as much as you want to; you reject her offers. you’re sleepless that night, going from crying every couple hours, to pondering about where things went wrong. could it have been your fault? were you not loving enough? were you not deserving to be loved? 

you asked yourself endless questions until you fell asleep. the sounds of your choked up tears and sadness filling your room. the sounds of your own crying lulling you to sleep, almost like it was the melody of a broken heart. 

copyright 2024 - present © hoonieyun fka jjhyn all rights reserved

all writing here is fiction & not in any association with characters mentioned.

[jqmalikhsgib]

stars

six

aaron holds his wife close to him. she’s only just got home and he missed the smell of her lilac shampoo. yn meant everything to him! losing haley sent him in a dark path for a long time. in the divorce and when she was killed. it broke him over and over again.

aaron never thought he’d have the willpower to move on from his first love. he thought she’d be his one and only. he accepted that, for awhile.

but in comes this most amazing, breathtaking, beautiful, smart, kind woman who instantly stole his heart!

yn and aaron met during one of his cases. it had been in new york city and it turned out fashion week just so happened to happen during the time they flew in new york for a case. it was a happy accident.

aaron liked to call it faith. normally he’d be the first one out of the hotel, heading straight to whatever precinct the team had to be for the case. he’d deal with the crappy coffee they had and get on with figuring out who the unsub could be.

that day was no different. this time though, he wanted to treat himself to better coffee. plus, he had been craving a dunkins donut for awhile.

when aaron arrived to dunkin donuts he sighs at the long line in the drive through. aaron decided to just go inside.

walking in he sighs as he stands in line. aaron soon hears commotion outside and sees that some people stopped a woman and asked for photos and autographs.

aaron ignores the commotion. he orders his drink and a few donuts, before he heads out. he gets a small glimpse of the woman before getting back in his car.

aaron didn’t really think too much of it. that is until he sees her again later that night. the team had solved the case, arresting the unsub and finding the woman he kidnapped, bringing her home safely. the team wanted to celebrate.

normally aaron would decline the offer to come along, wanting to get a good night sleep before jetting off the next morning. this time he accepted. he didn’t know why, but his inner voice told him he deserved to go out and have fun.

they went to a small club derek had found. he watched as his team danced, laughing at derek’s smooth moves.

aaron takes a sip of his beer before excusing himself to the restroom. once he finished his business he heads to the bar. aaron sees a woman looking very uncomfortable while a guy tries to flirt with her. she tries to be polite, giving him a smile. aaron could tell he wasn’t really getting the hint. she politely declines his advances. the man grabs her arm a little to aggressive for his liking. aaron frowns before walking over to them.

“everything okay?”

“yeah, it is! back up buddy!”

aaron puts his hands in the small of her back. the woman looks at him with pleading eyes. aaron recognizes her from earlier that day.

“i wasn’t asking you.”

“listen, i was having a discussion with the pretty lady here! why don’t you leave!”

aaron grabs his badge. the guy raised his hands before leaving.

“thank you!”

aaron hums. “yeah, any time.”

the woman smiles at him. “that a real badge or are you an actor?”

aaron gives her one of his signature small smiles. “it’s real. fbi.”

“oh? how long have you been an agent?”

aaron scoffs. “i don’t even remember. it’s been so long.”

“you look oddly familiar. have we met?”

“saw you at dunkins. you were signing autographs. im assuming you’re a celebrity?”

she laughs. “you don’t recognize me?”

aaron shakes his head. “mostly listen to the classics. i am quite old.” aaron states.

“you don’t look that old mister fbi agent! but, yeah, i am! im barely famous though. have like three albums out right now. it’s one reason why i can walk freely in the streets of new york without being spotted too much.”

“you can call me aaron.”

“aaron, huh? very suiting for an fbi agent. i like that. my names yn. i go by my middle name though in the industry, rihanna.”

aaron smiles. “what brings you here in new york?”

“i was invited to a few fashion shows. since im up and coming people want me everywhere. it’s been a busy week for me.” yn states.

“i understand. traveling a lot, yeah?”

“mhm. you travel?”

aaron nods. “yeah, all the time. im a profiler! my job consist being in different locations all the time.”

“profiler? you’re in the big leagues then, huh? i heard you gotta be crazy smart to be considered.”

aaron laughs. “something like that. it’s mostly got to do with reading people, places, and things, you know? just looking a little deeper than others would. like studying it more.”

“okay mister profiler, let’s see how good you are at your job. profile me.” yn smirks.

aaron smirks.

“just by standing next to you i can tell you’re an amazing artist. you write music from the heart and release it for the world to know who you are and what you’ve been through. you underestimate yourself. you don’t think you’re good enough which is why you call yourself low leveled, yet you’re already being invited to big events, which means you’re getting way more attention than you’ve ever imagined.”

yn left speechless. she didn’t know what else to do or say. yn just stood there before blinking rapidly. “wow, you’re good!”

“it’s just from the few things you’ve told me. nothing major.”

“who’s underestimating themselves now?” she smirks.

aaron chuckles.

the two continues to chat for a while. they lost track of time. soon enough emily comes to find aaron, letting him know she’s taking derek and spencer back to the hotel. both of them drunk off their ass.

aaron lets her know he’ll be right behind them.

“it was great talking to you, yn.” aaron smiles as he goes to walk away. “aaron, wait!”

aaron turns around. yn hands him a piece of paper. “please, call me. i enjoyed talking to you.”

aaron smiles. he places the paper in his pocket before waving. the rest was history.

he was smitten that very day and continued to be smitten about her. he felt like haley brought them together.

they were perfect. his perfect little star.

[stabbyfoxandrew]

Angel Neil please!

WIP Wednesday (8/21) | Guardian Angel Neil AU (Part 225)

“I stole a car once,” Andrew says, offering something sort of in the middle. It was part of his grand plan. It’s what got him out of Cass’s house and into juvie. (Driving it into the exterior wall of a Dunkin Donuts helped.)(Andrew climbed out mostly unscathed and grabbed himself a couple donuts while he waited for the pigs to arrive.)

“You stole a car?” Neil looks delighted. “What kind?”

Andrew smiles. “A fast one.”

“Good for you. Don’t think it’s hell-worthy though.” Neil makes a face. “Not that it matters much. You don't have to worry about that any time soon.”

“Oh?”

“Yep. See, you’re gonna live to a hundred. Even if it kills me.” Neil says, making Andrew’s face scrunch up. 

“No, no, no. Neil, if you’re my friend you will let me die at twenty-nine like I was meant to. Probably from an accidental overdose or getting hit by a falling piano.” Andrew thinks that’s a Minyard-esque way to go. He can imagine the last notes playing, then crunch. Neil ignores him.

“That’s just nine years and two days. I’m keeping you way longer than that.” Neil says, then suddenly he’s beaming like the menace he is. “You’re going to get wrinkly. As. Fuck.”

Andrew grimaces at that threat. “I hate you.”

The angel laughs. “You don’t.”

“Stop talking about my eventual decline.” Andrew says, waving a hand. Neil chews at his lip for a moment before evidently thinking of something.

“Oh! You were right the other night—”

“You’ll have to be more specific.”

“I’m trying to, asshole.”

Andrew likes when Neil gets annoyed. His nostrils flare a bit, his brows lower, his mouth looks mean. He's so fucking pretty. Andrew flicks his fingers. “Carry on then.”

[phinjeet]

* baljeet linez i enjoy and am currently thinking abt:

“if by “okay” you mean that my life is a meaningless black cauldron of swirling failure , then yes everything is groovy”

“IN YOUR FACE PHYSICS CAMP !!! BOOYAH !!!”

“space adventure !!!! its an adventure in space !!!!”

“i am a doctor ! and yes , i am single”

“well i got kicked out of summer school because my grades were too high”

“my uncle kamal is doing an exotic cuisine float in the parade and im the vegetable samosa !”

“ohh clever wordsmithing good sir !”

“i do a lot of math , the feelings come and go”

“yes , it is gratifyingly erudite !”

“i can see how that would be relevant if we were going to eat it , WE ARE NOT GOING TO HAVE TO EAT IT ARE WE ?”

“THAT IS BOTH A CONTRACTION AND GRAMATICALLY INCORRECT”

“you can run , but it wont be to the college of your choice i tell you !!!”

“you know , this is pretty tame compared to other rollercoasters , but when you compare it to other DENTAL themed rides it is a RUSH !!”

“i was going to EAT those jelly donuts :(((“

“you know REAL unicorns are pink😒 i am just saying .”

“not from YOU !! from a PRETTY GIRL !!! DO NOT FLATTER YOURSELF !!!!”

“greetings travelers ! if by my bow or my vast store of useless knowledge i may aid you- hey , where is my bow ?”

“EAT CANCELED TV SHOW !!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“dude , it is not my problem”

“i do not know what that will prove , the space time continuum is remarkably stable and OOHH MY GOODNESS”

“not to alarm you , but your house is on fire :)”

“yes , but that means I AM GOING TO BECOME PRESIDENT :DDD !!!!”

“you know nothing about women”

“he means delightful , and he means the opposite of that :/“

“are quests usually this short .”

“HOW DOES DANGLING ME FROM A ROPE LIGHTEN OUR LOAD”

“works for me chilli cheese !”

“ah , i will disintegrate that bridge when i come to it”

“ninja . it is dr NINJA baljeet . you left off the ninja part . i did not go through six years of ninja school just to be called dr baljeet , it is dr NINJA baljeet , okay ?”

“IT MOCKS ME … BRINGING SHAME TO MY FAMILY …..”

“because THIS DWEEB spent TWO WEEKS in psychology camp last summer”

“(scoff) what a nerd”

“i could actually get an e- an- OHH I CANNOT EVEN SAY THAT TERRIBLE LETTER !!! INEAS ! ERB ! WHAT AM I GOING TO DO !!!”

“well , i am sure that the writers of space adventure have a better grasp of astrophysics than you , or even me because i do not see how the science would work either , but-“

“YES !!! BACK TO SCHOOL BABY !!!! .. oh you meant that like a bad thing ..”

“well mango chutney is thicker than blood !!”

“oh i speak boring ??? and getting your whittling patch is soooo exciting !”

“right , no one ever asks baljeet what he is doing”

“I DO NOT KNOOOWW !!!!!!!”

“he must have achieved escape velocity . good for him”

“well it was just VERY inspirational🙄”

“we . are in . africa .”

“oh i almost forgot perry ! come along , let us get you a little treat :)))”

“OOH OOH I KNOW ! SPACE ADVENTURE ! episode 347a , captain dirk mortenson and the lovely lieutenant zarna , a half-human half-andusian who was secretly in love-“

“i have been working on a way of solving problems by the process of deriving reliable generalizations from observation . i call it “logic” .”

“(GASP) SPOON !!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“HEY , who cast a sleep spell on me and stole all my gold ??? ugh”

“i have read every book on the history of rock music .”

“i wish i would have thoughtfully created an eyewash station . SHEEEESH !!!!”

“ten-four good buddy ^_^ !!!”

“c’est la vie , shame curtains are not going to hang themselves”

“I AM NOT A BUNNY RABBIT !!!!!!!”

“when in danger i always hyperventilate ! :D”

[monsoon-of-art]

Donut Hole - Chapter 21

Everything Goes On

When you meet me in the daylight, like we did before Then I felt you on my shoulder, and you weren't suffering anymore You said: "I'm sorry that you worry, but don't apologize" I told you to forget me, but you stayed by my side, when I said- - Everything Goes On, Porter Robinson

[it's...over?] [ao3 link]

Dawn tugged at the edges of her scarf. The commander sat at his desk, Cyllene by his side, and the Clan Leaders stood besides her. The air was tense, terribly so. It did not help that neither Irida nor Adaman could seem to look her in the eyes.

There was no talking. There was no sound, period.

Finally, Kamado cleared his throat, and addressed Cyllene without looking away from Dawn and the leaders. “Cyllene. If you’d please.”

“This list has been compiled from eye-witnesses.” she began. “From both clan members, Wardens, and Leaders.”

To her left, Irida shifted nervously. Adaman crossed his arms over his chest.

Cyllene continued. “Assault. Theft. Destruction of property. Assault.”

Dawn’s blood turned to ice, and the weight of this meeting finally settled on her like a rock.

Barry, evidently, had been very, very busy.

He had said something earlier, about being ‘stupid’, but Dawn couldn’t ask about it before Cyllene came to visit.

It was probably a good thing, in hindsight, that Barry fainted almost immediately after. If he really thought this was a universe where Cyrus won, that interaction could’ve gone much worse.

“-Causing a landslide and destroying half of the Diamond Clan Settlement. Burning down half of the Pearl Clan Settlement. More Assault. Deliberately attacking the Noble Pokemon.”

Dawn was starting to feel lightheaded.

This had to be a mistake. Barry couldn’t do all that, Barry wouldn’t do that! He was so thin and tired and weak in the medical wing, he was a danger to himself more than anyone!

“Another assault, this time using a pokemon. Attacking a Noble Pokemon. Assault. Assault. Attacking a Noble Pokemon. Attacking a Noble Pokemon.”

How was there so much?

Kamado raised his hand. “I believe that’s enough.” He leaned a bit closer over his desk. “Dawn. If I recall correctly, this is your friend? ”

She tried swallowing the lump in her throat.

“Care to give us an explanation?”

Dawn briefly thought about lying. Thought about lying her little heart out. She had been barely accepted by Jubilife as an outsider, but Barry would have to fight uphill with a list a mile long like that.

He'd get kicked out. Thrown to the luxrays to be devoured and torn to shreds. He could even reflect badly on her , and she'd be tossed out after him-

No. No more lying. She had done enough of that, lying about her memory.

Dawn took a deep breath. “I've been doing a lot of…thinking, since Barry arrived. About him, about me - about my life before here. It's still so fuzzy, but he's helped me fill in some of the gaps.”

“There was a group of… Bad People. They were Bad People who did Bad Things. They stole things, attacked others, they planted explosives in the local lake...They wanted to destroy my home, they wanted to destroy everything. They wanted the world to be reduced to ash and darkness and nothingness. ”

She tried not to look at anyone directly, but she almost swore she saw Kamado’s face soften.

“Barry and I tried to fight back, tried to drive them away. We barely made it out with our lives. I think…” she hesitated. “Barry thought that the clans were the Bad People. He thought you took me away, he thought I was in danger. His memory is faulty, just like mine, and he’s terribly sick. I’m sure he didn’t mean it! He was just worried about me!”

Irida put a hand to her face, and Adaman uncomfortably shifted from one foot to the other. Kamado leaned back in his chair with a thoughtful hum. “...hm. I see.”

He addressed the leaders now. “And you two. What do you wish to do with the boy?”

Dawn tried to subtly glance at the leaders to see their faces. They looked just as anxious as she felt.

“Well, we…we still think-” Irida stuttered and stammered.

“The boy needs to be punished.” Adaman finished for her, speaking in a rush, as if he just wanted the words out of his mouth as fast as he could.

Dawn felt her heart stop and tears well in her eyes. They were going to exile him, or maybe they were going to do something worse. Was this the time period where they stoned people to death? They were going to kill him, either directly or indirectly.

How could they say that? How could they think that after telling them why?

Kamado nodded and looked at Cyllene. “And what do you think of all this?”

Cyllene looked at the leaders. Cyllene looked at Dawn.

“...you want my honest opinion, Commander?”

“Your honesty is all I ever ask for.”

There was a long period of silence as Cyllene thought of an answer.

“I believe the boy should contribute to the Survey Corps.”

“WHAT?!”

The leaders and Dawn were on the same confused page, it seems.

“I believe we need a bit more from you, Cyllene.” Kamado said, sounding a tad confused as well.

Cyllene straightened at Kamado’s comment. “The boy was brought in with a bag containing five Pokeballs. Each ball contained a pokemon he had caught, raised, and trained with no guidance or assistance from us. A single person training any pokemon is a feat. A young boy training five pokemon is astounding.”

She turned to Kamado. “The fact that he could use Pokeballs with no training, and the fact that he was able to survive Hisui alone, shows his resourcefulness, strength, and his adaptability.”

Cyllene turned back to the Clan Leaders, who were still clearly surprised by her thoughts on the matter. “Here, not only will he work for his room and board, but he will work to repay his crimes…perhaps by assisting you?”

Adaman and Irida were stunned into complete silence, looking at one another to try and force words to appear.

“I find this solution to be agreeable.” Kamado interrupted. “That way, we can keep a close eye on him, to make sure he doesn't cause any more trouble. You two can't seem to come up with a reason as to why we should not …so I am going to assume this is the best option going forward. Dismissed.”

Having lost their opportunity to object, Irida and Adaman slowly left the commander's chamber. Dawn waited for them to leave, not wanting to talk to them at the moment.

Before she could leave, Kamado cleared his throat to get her attention. “I'm serious, Dawn. We'll be watching your friend very carefully. Just as I have told you, if he wishes to be accepted and trusted, he will need to work hard. And he hasn't started on the best foot forward.”

Dawn nodded, almost bowing, before quickly darting out of the room.

While she did not want to see Adaman and Irida, she did linger a moment to try and catch Cyllene. 

It took Dawn a great deal of effort not to tackle the captain in a big hug. She hoped a warm smile would have the same effect. “Thank you, Captain Cyllene.”

Cyllene kept her stoic composure. “I have no idea what you're implying. You and I both know that Laventon requires all the help we can afford to give him. Speaking of, I believe you have duties to attend to. You need at least a Four Star Ranking before you can take on the Highlands.”

It appears as though Irida and Adaman shared Dawn’s plan, for they too had lingered down the stairs, waiting for her. She bristled at the two upon seeing them.

Some part of Dawn knew, deep down, that being the leader of a Clan of people must be hard. And some part of her knew that Barry - supposedly - did a lot of stupid things out in Hisui.

But the larger, louder part of her was mad at them. They wanted to punish her friend! How dare they! He didn’t know any better! He probably didn’t mean it! She knew he didn’t!

Both of them started talking - quietly, sheepishly - but Dawn didn’t stick around. She brushed past them without a word, making a point to not look at them with a huff. A little childish, maybe, but she wanted to get the point across.

Adaman and Irida didn’t go after her. 

Instead, Irida turned to Cyllene. “Be honest, why did you suggest taking Barry in? It seems…extremely charitable, even for the Galaxy team…”

“Yeah, that kid may be Dawn’s friend, but you read what he’s done. He could still be a threat. Are you certain that’s a good idea?”

“I went to visit him. It was a surprise visit, and in hindsight, I should’ve given him warning.” Cyllene said slowly, making her way back to her office. “In the brief moments of consciousness the boy had, I studied him. And do you know what I saw?”

She stopped in front of the doors to her office. “I looked into his eyes, and all I saw was complete and utter terror.”

---

“Dawnie, give me the other mochi.”

“No, Barry, Miss Pesselle says you’re eating too fast. You need to eat slower, she says your tummy is all shriveled up like a dried leppa berry.”

He tried not to pout so much. But he had been eating berries for…who knows how long, and this potato mochi tasted like Heaven in comparison. “Tell me more about the Survey Corps.” said Barry, trying to change the subject.

“The Pokedex doesn’t exist yet.” she began explaining again. “People and Pokemon relationships are still a little rocky.”

“So…we’re just filling out the Pokedex. Didn’t Rowan ask you that too? Give me a mochi. Please?”

Dawn relented, placing a mochi onto his plate. As soon as it touched the plate, he scarfed it down as fast as he could.

She rolled her eyes. “It’s different than that. We’re not just catching pokemon, we’re studying them. Catching different specimens to get an accurate weight distribution, observing them in the wild, seeing that foods they like-”

“That sounds really boring.” he said through a mouthful.

“Well, it can be, sometimes. Some of the tasks Laventon wants us to do are…boring. But it can be dangerous! It can be really dangerous! Pokemon-”

“Will attack you?” Barry finished the sentence for her. “Yeah, yeah. I’ve experienced that first-hand. And there’s these really really big ones-”

“Those are Alpha Pokemon. Also very dangerous.” She set down her plate and raised up her sleeve to show a long, pink scar running up her arm.

“Whoa! How’d that happen?! Who did that?! I’ll fine them in to the next century!”

“Alpha Parasect got me as I was trying to run. But then-but then you see momma and poppa pokemon caring for their babies- or or a tiny baby spheal rolling up to you-”

“And why am I doing this?”

“Because.” She set another mochi on his plate, which was quickly and ravenously devoured. “In order to live in Jubilife village, you work. You need to earn your keep. Secondly, you have a rap sheet a mile long-”

“I plead the fifth.”

“That only works in Unova.”

“It was self defense!”

“I know! But they’re still mad. So you’re kind of working off your crimes, too.”

“I demand a lawyer.”

“Barry, please. Take this a little seriously.” she sniffled, wiping at her eyes to try and preemptively stop the tears. “I thought they were gonna kick you out. I thought they were gonna kill you. S-Stone you to death.”

His eyes went wide. “They stone people to death here??”

“Maybe…I dunno…I was really scared.”

Barry slid over on his bed to make room. “Come here, come here.” he said, patting the space beside him. Dawn put the plate of mochi on the bedside table and sat down next to him, pulling him into a squeezing hug.

“I’ll join the Survey Corps. I’ll do what they ask me to do, I’ll do it! No more worrying. Me and you, it’ll be like when we started our journey!” said Barry, squeezing back.

“Nothing bad’s gonna happen. I won’t let it.”

[And...Close Scene! That's it guys, that's a wrap for Donut Hole!...but I'm not done with Barry yet >:)]

[And now, a shameless plug for my besties fic: "When you reach the end of the line, you must be brave." By Pinkrhin0. "In which Emmet arrives somewhere new, makes a new friend, travels cross country, and, most importantly of all: Stays alive- No matter what." A fun take on a reunion fic where Emmet has a very bad time!! Yippee!!!]

[gatheringfiki]

The following ficlet was written by @lazysaturdayonthebeach based on this photoset.

Fili/Kili, T

You might also be able to read this story on AO3.

If you’ve enjoyed this story, please leave a comment either in replies or on AO3.

You Found Me

—

Famous musicians weren’t supposed to travel alone.  Kili hated that.  He was never alone.  He just wanted time to himself, to think, to write, to breathe.  So he stole Ori’s car one January afternoon.  He didn’t really steal it.  He left a note.  And he had paid for it, so technically…

He drove with no directions or destinations.  His phone was turned off and stuffed in his small bag.  It was exhilarating.  He sang loudly with the radio.  He lost track of time.  He had no idea where he was.  He loved it.

Then he blew a tire.

Did Ori have a spare?  He wished.  There was a tiny donut spare in the trunk, but it was flat.  That sucked.  Kili puffed his cheeks and blew out his stress.  Nothing to be done about it.  He’d have to call someone.  He hated it.  He wanted to be independent and self-sufficient for just one day.  But he got back im the car and pulled out his phone.  Dead.  He really was going to have to be self-reliant.

He shoved the phone back in his bag, slung the strap over his shoulder, and started walking along the snow-covered road.  He hadn’t passed a building in some time, so forward was his best bet.  This was not what he had in mind.  The snow permeated his shoes and left his feet wet and cold.  He didn’t start to panic until they got numb.  He remembered enough from school health classes to know that was bad.

Finally, his luck changed.  He saw a light in the distance and heard a steady thump, thump, thump.  It was a house and someone was home.  He banged on the door and tried to look sympathetically pathetic.  That was easy.

The most handsome man he had ever seen opened the door, eyebrows high and lips tight.  He appraised Kili, who seemed to be struck mute, from head to toe.  

“I’m lost,” Kili admitted.

Handsome blond smiled.  “It’s okay now,” he said, “You found me.  We’ll sort it out.”

Fili, and Kili marveled at the similarity of their names, lived alone, focusing on his art - making metal sculptures.  His house was sooo warm from the forge that Kili’s feet began to warm and started to hurt again.  He stumbled and Fili caught him.

Fili looked at Kili’s shoes.  “How long have you been walking in the snow?  Those shoes aren’t good for this weather.  Come sit over here.”  Fili didn’t really seem interested in Kili’s answers and just burst into action.  He got Kili into a plush chair and brought over a small tub of warm water.  He made Kili soak his feet while he bustled around warming homemade soup while they talked about everything and nothing.

Kili couldn’t remember the last time he felt so relaxed.

Fili called the local service to collect and repair Kili’s car.  He wanted to call a doctor, but Kili promised he’d go to his doctor’s private clinic.  So they kept talking until it was too late to leave  and Kili spent the night in Fíli’s guest room.  Neither wanted to separate the next morning when Fili drove him home.

The pair texted for weeks until Kili went on a summer tour.  Somewhere in the chaos of limos, hotels, and dressing rooms, he lost his phone, his only link to Fili.  His management immediately wiped and deactivated the phone so the information and Kili would be safe.  They got him a new phone and a new number.  No matter how much he begged, security couldn’t get the old number back.  He was lost, again.

Poor Fili had no idea.  One moment they were texting each other about meeting when Fili came to the city for a gallery show, the next, Kili stopped communicating.  He figured it was all too much too fast and Kili thought he was just another weirdo fan that wanted too much from him.  That pain drove him deeper into his work and further from regular human contact.

Kili became miserable and withdrawn.  His big house was cold.  He missed the warmth of Fili’s company.  Everyone around him wanted something from him.  He just wanted more of the way Fili made him feel.  All his songs became morose.  Despite that, one became a big hit.

I was lost, but you found me

I was warm In your arms

Now I’ve lost you again 

And I need you…

On a rare trip to the city for supplies, Fili heard the song and recognized Kili’s voice.  It echoed in his head despite his feelings of abandonment.  

You’re all I want for Christmas…

He realized Kili was pining for him too.  Maybe he had misinterpreted the situation.  He took a chance and went to Kili’s house.

Kili’s assistant, Ori, answered the door and recognized Fili immediately from the way Kili described it to him, over and over and over.  Kili was recording so Ori took Fili’s card and suggested that he wait at the coffee shop nearby.  

A little later, Ori gave the card to Kili as soon as he finished a take and called for a break.  And he purposely used one of the phrases from his song, “Dude, this crazy fan came to see you.  He had the deepest sea blue eyes I’ve ever seen.”

“He had what?”

“Sea blue eyes?”

Kili snatched the card and nearly dropped his new phone trying to dial.  As soon as the call connected, he started babbling.

Fili couldn’t understand half of what Kili said, but he ran back towards Kili’s house, tossing his half-full cup on his way out the door.  He saw a tall brunet running at him.  He should have braced for the impact, but he was too excited to think that far ahead.  He barely managed to catch Kili when he launched himself and they collapsed into a heap in the snow, laughing and crying.

“You found me,”  Kili sighed, “It will all be okay now.”