#pretty late in the season for her to be out :oo

[synchlora]

ID: a great golden digger wasp feeding at a bright pink flower. She is a large wasp with orange legs, an orange, black-tipped abdomen, and golden hairs along her thorax. End description

very pretty lady I saw today while getting pumpkins!

[butwhyduh]

honestly jdk just tim drake x reader where one/or multiple of the batfam walks in?? i just find them entertaining, or they are continually being interrupted through the day!

Warning: eventual smut and Tim is done with everyone’s shit. If it’s not the end of the world, don’t call me- level done. And you can tell it’s fanfic because Tim is actually an adult.

Tim didn’t get into shows very often. He’s busy and he has a terrible habit of falling asleep after the first 10 minutes. He didn’t want to watch the show but he was tinkering with some of his tech while sitting on the couch and you put it on. And that’s how he got sucked in.

“And Daphne said yes to that? Drew is not good enough to lie to her friends over,” he said and you started telling him the backstory.

You binge watch the next few episodes to catch up to the new season. It was a fun and scandalous show, nothing like Tim’s usual picks. And he thought it was cute how animated you were when talking about the show.

“Trevor needs to get his shit together or not only is Naomi going to leave him, he’ll go to jail,” Tim said.

“Yeah but he owes the local crime boss money and he said he’d kill his family otherwise,” you countered.

“Sounds like Gotham,” Tim quipped. You lightly smacked his arm before laying your head on his shoulder and entangling your arm in his.

“That is not comforting,” you said. “Oo they’re going to tell us who took the diamonds!”

The bat phone started ringing almost off the coffee table. You groaned and let Tim go to sit up to answer that.

“The corner of 17 and Parkway? How many combatants?” He said in Bat speak. And that’s when you knew your date night was over. He hung up and turned to you looking apologetic.

“I have to go,” he said. You sighed but pulled him into a hug.

“Be safe. I’ll be here,” you said with practices familiarity. He kissed you before grabbing his stuff and leaving. He didn’t get back until hours later with some fresh bruises and a girlfriend asleep on the couch.

It was 2 days later that you tried to continue the show. Tim had told Bruce to call someone else first. The door was locked and his phone was on silence. You’d even given him some pretty good incentives if you were uninterrupted and alone after the show.

It was all of ten minutes into the continued episode with pho takeout on the way that the fire escape window opened. In flopped Nightwing covered in mud.

“No,” Tim groaned. You huffed before pausing the show. “Do you need help?”

“Only a bit,” Dick said as the understatement of the year. He let Tim look at him to find that he was leaking blood all over the carpet from a bullet wound in his thigh. “Only a graze. Do you have a bandaid?”

“Good lord,” you replied as Tim called Alfred. You quickly grabbed a towel to stop the bleeding.

It was a few hours later and a carpet cleaner before Nightwing and your carpet were patched up. By that time it was the middle of the night and you couldn’t concentrate on anything. Tim promised a date night another day.

This one was a whole week later. All of the Robins had been warned under pain of torture to not talk to Tim for that evening. Because Tim was to put it mildly, frustrated. You two hadn’t had alone time in over a week.

You started the show back up with all entrances locked and phones off. You were able to watch the next 15 minutes before you heard broken glass.

“Hey did you know your window was locked,” Superboy said standing in front of the window. Tim practically growled before pausing the show to shove Kon out the window.

“I don’t know what you need but the other members of Young Justice are available. Call them,” Tim said but it was already too late. The wind had blown into the room and it was starting to snow outside so he couldn’t exactly ignore the window. Once again date night was canceled.

Tim was so frustrated that he had dreams about you in his bed. It was almost a week later and now 3 episodes behind on the show that you had another date night. He was almost willing to skip the show entirely at this point just to have alone time.

Tim had practically threatened everyone he knew with death threats to leave you both alone.

“Someone is feeling the mode,” Bart joked.

“You mean, someone needs to get laid,” Kon added.

“At this point, yes! I don’t want to see, hear, or think of either of you tonight. Unless it’s the  apocalypse, then I don’t want to even know about it,” he growled. The two other heroes howled with laughter as he left.

You could tell Tim was distracted and preoccupied by the way his hand gripped and squeezed your thigh. He gave you frequent kisses between scenes. As the episode ended, Tim pounced.

“Tim!” You gasped as he pushed you to lay on the couch before the credits were even done. It turned to a moan as his hand slid between your thighs to rub you through your panties.

“It’s been way too long,” he groaned as he kissed down your throat. He was almost never this aggressive and it was dizzying. He pushed your panties to the side to finger you.

“Oh fuck,” you gasped as he hit deep inside you. His hips rubbed his hard cock against you. He pulled at your shirt with one hand.

“Take it off,” he groaned with impatience. Before you had even gotten the fabric over your head, he had attacked your chest. Pulling a nipple into his mouth and sucking hard while fingering you thoroughly had you whimpering.

You shoved down his pants to grasp him in a loose fist. Tim rutted into your hand while sloppily kissing across your chest.

“Please, want you,” you whined and he wasted no time sliding in. Your back arched with a gasp. His arm reached behind your back and Tim took his time with long deep strokes.

This pleasure cycle couldn’t last forever and you both finished far too soon. Tim kissed you softly and gently.

“We can continue this later. I think the food is here,” he said.

“Sounds good,” you said adjusting your clothes and sitting up. “I’ll be right back,” you added as you went to clean up.

Tim answered the door in his messied hair and haphazardly placed clothes. Instead of the food delivery guy, it was Jason standing with his food box. Tim frowned.

“What do you want?”

“Pizza anyone?”

“Leave,” tim growled, taking the box. Jason laughed.

“Interrupting something?” Tim almost slammed the door in his face. “Hey, I just need keys to the Robin motorbike,” Jason added. “Oh I didn’t know you watched that show. Can you believe that in last week’s episode, it was the mom all along. Wild hu?”

Tim sighed before throwing the keys at Jason. “Go away.” He slammed the door.

“Well that sucks,” you said across the room.

Tim locked the door and sat the pizza box on the table. “I’m gonna be honest, and that is that I really just want to finish what we started before pizza. I’m not picky where.”

You laughed before letting him grab you fireman style over his shoulder to drag you into the bedroom. There was no way you were answering the door after that.

[dreamsmp-au-ideas]

Here to explain Mia and Me! Except it’s been a while since I watched it so some of this may be incorrect, correct me if I’m wrong

Mia and Me is basically this show where a girl named Mia gets a gift from her late father that is a bracelet and book, the book is a book of fairytales with many many empty pages, and the bracelet has a really pretty and giant gem. Then her bracelet begins glowing in the middle of school and it turns out the bracelet takes her to another world—which I don’t remember the name of whoops—and the book is filled with true stories. She becomes an elf with pink hair and wings, rescues a unicorn(turns out she can speak to the unicorns). She then befriends said unicorn and a little goat creature that plays music called a Pan.

And then she gets attacked by these bush creatures who try to take the horns of the unicorns, cause their leader wants to be immortal or something—think mother Gothal except instead of a flower it’s unicorn horns and turning them into magic gas—then more elves show up to save the unicorn horn the bush guys are attacking, turns out water is really effective against the bush guys so fun fun. And every day(I think?) she’s dragged into the world to help solve an issue, and every time she does something it records that event in the book.

There’s also elemental unicorns, a unicorn with wings, a tree that all unicorns go to once a season for delicious apples, and bugs that can go invisible to record your every word and report to big bad who wants to be immortal

There’s a lot more than that, 3 seasons in fact.

-🪁

Oo that sounds like a fun show! 

So how do you think the gremlins would interact with the world of Mia and Me?

[wornoutmouse]

@midoriyaprofessionalslut

I can't even begin to describe the ask I received so I'm just going to leave screenshots😅😅

Also in the new mha season, I thought Tsu was being petty when she called Mineta Grape-Juice and Shoji Tentacle. But nope, those are their hero names.

Side note: I feel like when Mineta gets old and knows how to work his quirk better, he'll be able to control if they stick or not.

Slight racism, usual smut.

NOT PROOF READ SO LET ME KNOW IF U SEE SOMETHING

 If you imagine Mineta as in the picture above and with a mature voice, this is more enjoyable. Or you can imagine someone else entirely.. Cause even as someone who's tolerant to Mineta I can't imagine him getting any hoes much less smashing (at least not on top). It would be like watching a chiwawa top a mastiff. 

"This is some bullshit." You shuffle through various papers on your desk, each containing the receipts of Pro-Hero Grapejuice's celebratory purchases. Most of it was random appliances that could in no way be used on a day-to-day basis, but there were others….a shiver goes down your spine, there were others that were just downright perverted. "What even is a nub tickler?" 

Being an accountant was something you were good at, the numbers came easy and it was interesting to see the income and ways of business that different people in power displayed. Planning meetings and getting the occasional phone call made everything a breeze, but it wasn't what you wanted to do. Or in better words, this was not whom you wanted to work for. Even being number 6 causes the workload to be higher than should be physically possible in the hero world. That's one of the reasons you never gave praise to the rankings because no matter how low in the chain, a hero’s work is always taxing. 

Shifting in your seat you look at the analog clock on your desk. 3:45, you were supposed to come to work at 5:30 which means you once again have no time to sleep. Having these late nights had increased 10 fold whenever Mineta went up in rank even by a little. His way of celebrating was spending his money carelessly and leaving you to fix the balance. Though you supposed it may be your fault for never objecting when he barged in your office showing his trinkets as well as leaving his credit card.

"Yeah, it's time to go." You muttered as you read the words, "Dwarf Cow in the left lot of Wisconsin."

 The next hour, you take a detour from your office for the first time in months. Heading down the hall you watch the walls go from the pale greys to deep purple and violet splotches splattered along the wall before it inevitably melds into solid purple walls as you get closer to the front door of his office.

Hesitantly you knock on the door and wait until a muffled "Come in." Rings through the thick wood. The room itself was just as flamboyant as the walls leading to it. A beautiful fuchsia carpet on the floor made you realize that calling in your two weeks would have been better than walking into the Willy-Wonka factory that was this office. Various spherical decorations hung from the chandelier, and even something as simple as the legs of his desk was made up of crystal spheres.

The man himself sat perfectly balanced on a large purple ball most likely of his own creation, meanwhile, various children sat around him slipping and sliding on smaller balls in an attempt to copy him. "Ah, here is my beautiful assistant!" The compliment made you cringe as you fiddled with the end of the sleep-wrinkled white blouse you had worn for 2 days straight. "Can we talk sir? It is important." Mineta raised an eyebrow at your formal speech before shrugging. 

In an extravagant display of balance, Mineta does a handstand on the ball with one hand before flipping to the other side. "Well kids it's time for me to get done as a hero’s job is never over and blah blah blah the gift shop is giving out free plushies and you can keep your ball." The teacher does her best to usher out her students and the sound of childish screams resound down the hallway even though the door was shut. "How can I help you Y/n?" Mineta offers you his ball to sit on and you reluctantly take the offer as you grate in multiple directions in order to stay afloat. 

Mineta watches you with hidden interest as he interlocks his hands underneath his chin. "I didn't know you even knew my name?" Mineta Laughs exposing his annoyingly perfect teeth. It was hard to associate this face to the pictures you see when you search for his early years. "Of course I know your name, I stole your nameplate off your desk 2 months ago." Ah, so that's where it went  "What was it you wanted to talk about?"

You sighed, "I would like to put in my two weeks." Mineta goes slack-jawed before composing himself "Why?" Mineta looked at you earnestly, completely confused on why you'd want to abandon your post as his secretary- I mean assistant. "Working for you has become a hassle with your lack of financial maturity." Mineta mock shivers, "Oo big words, me no likey." Mineta hops onto his desk as if he weighed nothing more than paper and squats in front of you, "How about this, you don't quit and instead help me learn how to...how did you say it? Be financially mature." You lean back in your chair unconvinced that he was taking this seriously.

With the final nail ready to be hit, Mineta adds, "How about I give you a raise of 10 percent and a promotion?" You stand up in your chair with an eager grin, "That sounds great!" Mineta smirks to himself but you did not pay any mind to it. "Great, how about we discuss this over food, dinner date?" Your internal celebration screeches to a halt, " Dinner Date-" Mineta looks at you shocked, "Dinner date? Great idea, why didn't I think of it myself!?" A firm hand slides you towards the door as Mineta starts a complimentary speech giving you no room to object, "This is why I need you, you're so smart, I wish I was like you, tomorrow at 11?" You sputter trying to slip past his arms, "11 but I-?!" Mineta loudly gasps again, "There you go doing it again I'm so lucky to have you, tomorrow at 11 my treat!"

The door is shut in your face and the sound of the lock clicking seals your fate. What did you get into?

Cut to 4 years later and you are still not sure of that answer. Simply being bis accountant you had a glimpse of his perverted tendencies, but as his girlfriend, it was further exposed to depths you never could have found yourself imagining. You shuffle papers in the printing room as you do your best to ignore the faint tingling sensation in between your legs. Yet another whim you found yourself following on Mineta’s behalf despite the ever-present fear of being caught. The vibrator comes to life before going back down as quickly as it came. You toss a middle finger to the camera in the top corner of the room knowing he was watching.

"Miss L/n, can I ask you something?" You slap your arm down to your side in embarrassment. I hope he didn't see that.  Your coworker walks up to you holding a small stack of papers. "Yes, how can I help you?" The man shows you various forms as he talks, for once you were thankful for Mineta not embarrassing you in front of others. "Oh I see where you went wrong, this right here would be a 20% increase, not 18%." The man applauded you and graciously wrote down your explanation. "Thank you so much, my name is Kaminari by the way." 

"Ah hello, Kaminari, and no worries I'm always glad to help!" You turn back as your papers finally scan through but can't help notice Kaminari lingering. "Say Y/n?" You open your mouth to respond only to close it again as the vibratory comes back to life strongly. "Hmmm?!" Kaminari peers at you, your reaction was strange but he couldn't figure out why. "Um, never mind, have a nice day Miss. Y/n, maybe we can get together over coffee or something?” You shrug turning away from Kaminari in fear of your eyes rolling up. The man sways from foot to foot awkwardly before leaving the printing room. 

Snapping out of your personal flashback, you look over at your fiance signing autographs for his adoring and objectively feminine fan base. While it was extremely unnerving how unknowingly close they were to your home, you weren't resentful of their gushing.

Your engagement and your overall relationship had not been made public in fear of your personal life being exploited by paparazzi. That doesn't mean, however, the next thing you witness doesn't get your blood boiling.

A girl, no older than maybe 22 waltzes up to Mineta with the confidence of Muhammad Ali in a ring match. Her raven black hair fell flawlessly down her back with not a single split end. Almond eyes decorated with precise coal blink rapidly to draw attention to her seemingly natural eyelashes. With 4 inch wedges. a black halter top, and cuffed jean shorts, it was clear she was someone on a mission. She effortlessly pushes past the nearby fans as they stop to quack at her rivaling beauty. A smirk draws itself with her soft pink lips as she hears people muttering around and about her.

"Wow she's so pretty"

"They would look good together just look at them."

"Ugh, such an attention whore, not giving the rest of us a chance!"

"I bet a 20 she's his type."

"Is she famous?"

The chatter comes to a close as the girl hands Mineta a notebook, "Can you sign right here?" Mineta flips open the book and his eyes widen a fraction before he puts on his heroic voice, "Wow it looks like you got all of Japan's heroes in this book!" The girl smiles as she watches Mineta scratch his signature, "Don't be afraid to leave your number in there too Mr. Minoru." Mineta pauses at the statement for continuing his elaborate handwriting, "I don't think that would be very plus ultra of me so I'm gonna have to pass." Smug pride fills your chest as you watch the annoyance cross the girl's face.

Mineta finishes signing and hands her back her book, she, in turn, forces a small piece of paper in his hand before holding his chin and kissing him. At that moment nothing else mattered but beating that bitches ass as you yanked her black hair and dragged her to the ground. "This ain’t Wattpad bitch get your hands off of him!!" You turn to Mineta making him flinch with a sharp glare as you yank her hair again, hopefully pulling a few strands out. "You just gonna let her kiss you and not do anything!?" Mineta stretched his hands towards you cautiously, "Y/n calm down, if you would have given me a chance I would have settled it-" "No, settle it now!"

Your rage is diminished by the judgmental looks coming from the fans and you realize your brazen display was out of order.

"Who is she"

"I think she's the secretary l, so why is she so mad"

"Delusional just cause you're with him all the time doesn't mean you're together"

"I hope he fires her."

"This is why we shouldn't let them in Japan"

The girl whose hair you have in a chokehold stands up unbalanced before pushing your hands from her hair. Satisfied at the disheveled look of her previously perfect strands, you turn to walk back to Mineta, your anger having been sated, "Black Bitch." You turn around and go charging towards the girl again grinning when she flinches. Your rampage is stopped as Mineta wraps his arms around your waist and picks you up, "Sorry for the disturbance, we deeply apologize!"

It's almost comical how your mouth spews vulgarity that would make a sailor blush as Mineta drags you behind your apartment building. He ushers you through the back door leading to the washroom, "I can't believe she'd do that in front of me, and you let her!" Mineta shuts the door quietly, leaning his ear against it to listen out for any lingering fans. You sit on top of a washer still ranting as your blood cools down. "The nerve of some of these people is outrageous, even if she doesn't know about us that is still sexual harassment!"

Mineta doesn't look at you and instead peeks through the blinds lining the washroom windows. "I think they are gone, come on." The two of you sneak out the door and walk at a moderate speed all the way back to your front door. In hindsight, you knew that causing a scene like that was a bold move on your part. If anyone was recording the whole ordeal you knew Mineta’s name and possibly yours would be in the headlines by later this evening. 

As the last one entering, you lock the door behind you, forehead scrunched together with apprehension. "Mineta I'm sorry, I don't know what got into me. I just saw her touching you and saw red." You face away from the door with an earnest look on your face. Mineta has a cheeky look on his face that can only mean trouble. Despite your similar slim build and height, Mineta easily corners you against the door. "I know exactly what got into you." Mineta’s pointer finger taps your nose. "Jealousy."

You sighed, putting your head down nodding, "Yeah, it's not that I don't trust you, it's just-" "shhh." Mineta lips your head back up with a hand under your chin. "It's fine Y/n. It's not like I expected a perfect little cocksleeve like you to be okay with sharing." You stare blinkingly at Mineta. 'Oh, he's in one of those moods huh?' As expected from such a fiend like Mineta, he was quite possibly hard the whole time he was watching you beat that girl's ass, and for some reason that irked you even more. “Mineta I’m being serious.” The words leaving your mouth did not phase Mineta, he holds your hips and pulls you close to him in order for you to feel his bulge. 

“Oh come on, after seeing you be so possessive for me, how can you not expect me to be a lil turned on?” Mineta’s hands circle your ass before slapping it, “Made me feel special.” Rolling your eyes you lean into the lingering kisses he begins to leave on your shoulder. His grip tightens as he shuffles you to the nearest surface. “Makes me feel all giddy inside to know that you do this only for me and no one else.” Minoru unbuttons your dress pants and removes your belt, “But doing that in front of all those people was stupid.” A shiver travels up your arms from the feeling of lips caressing your ear. Mineta dips his hand into your cotton panties and immediately draws attention to your clit.

“Look at me, Mineta Minoru with a girl like you that would fight for me. Who would have thought?” You ball your fists on the table, hanging your head low. “You’re not going to make this easy for me are you?” Mineta slips his other hand beneath your blouse to cup your breasts. Short l  rub down your slit collecting your slick. The feeling was warm and buzzing just underneath your skin, the bastard was well trained on how to slowly but surely bring your pleasure to its peak and hold you there. Your muscles begin to feel more and more like jelly, you sigh “Oh God..” Mineta pushed his body further on yours, rutting against your body. Up until now, his other hand was simply resting on your skin but once impatience overcame him, he used it to pull down your pants. 

“You know this will be in articles tomorrow right?” Two fingers curl inside of you making you squeal, “Y-Yes!” Something hard and slick smacks against your bare ass as Mineta removes the bottom half of his hero costume. “So how are you going to compensate me for what I’ll have to deal with tomorrow?” You turn your head to the back with a small pout on your face, “She shouldn’t have touched you.” Mineta coyly smiles before pressing your head down against the table. “You should have let me handle it.” 

Mineta was an average of 5 inches in length with conservative girth. But so far he’s been the only man that really added proof that size doesn’t matter. Mineta pulls away from you and leans down to riffle through his pants. You hear a crisp pop of a cap being opened and a slick splatter is heard afterward. A shaky breath leaves Mineta’s lips as he lubes his cock up. Penetrating is a struggle at first, the longer it takes for him to push it in the more both of you become frustrated until he finally pulls your waist back against himself. “S-So good!” The pleasure causes his childhood lisp to slip through as he waits for you to acclimate to the stretch. 

You shift your feet when Mineta refrains from moving. "Tsk, you really don't understand the meaning of patience do you?" Your hands suddenly become cool to the touch as Mineta covers them with medium sized spheres temporarily gluing you to the table. "Mineta this isn't fair! Please just a little bit to the left!" Now having you helpless Mineta puts one hand on your back while stroking the base of his cock. "It's not about being fair, it is about teaching a sneaky brat like you to know their place." Mineta begins to move but it's not right, he needs to go more to the left, "Mineta what are you even talking about!?!" 

A sigh leaves Mineta's lips, "Don't think I forgot about that slick shit you tried to pull with Kaminari." Mineta watches your ad shake and bounce everytime your hips meet. Your arms twitch and pull at themselves wanting to find purchase on the flat surface. Groans leave your lips as Mineta comes closer to hitting your spot,  "Slick shit?! Y-You're the one that wanted to do that stupid little piano in the first place!" You couldn't see it but Mineta had a deep seated glare on his face. He loops his fingers underneath his yellow scarf and rolls it around long ways. 

"I'm really tierd of your mouth. What you think because I let you beat that girl out their I'll let you beat me?" The middle of the scarf is put in your mouth and your head is pulled back by it. Mineta holds both ends of the scarf to slam into your cunt. "Just a greedy little bitch aren't you?" You scream into the cloth as Minetas cock finally hits your spot just right. The constant pulling on the corner of your mouth burned everytime the fabric rubbed against the sensitive flesh. Your feet rise to your toes in a fruitless attempt at getting a break from the pleasure. Mineta holds his scarf in one hand and pushes down your waist. "Didnt you want this? Don't run from it now."

Your pussy squelched around his cock the faster he went making you go cross eyed. "Fuck you feel so damn good.  The table rattled and scraped across the floor with every thrust. "oh fuck, I'm gonna cum!" Your nails scraped the table as you closed your fist, had you had claws it would have been a whole different story. You beared down on his cock, trying, begging to feel more inside of your walls as he moved faster. Suddenly your argument fel worth it.

Mineta knew many things about himself. He knew his birthday, he knew where he was in life, and he knew he had come 6 minutes ago and was bordering hysteria as he pumped his overestimated cock into your wet heat. Each drag made years collect in his eyes.  Tiny whimpers left his lips and his hands squeezed your sides harder and hard.  "So fucking warm. Squeezing down on my dick like that." 

He bowed his head and rested on your back,  kissing the sweaty skin as he pushed through the painful pleasure.  "Fuck, fuck, fuck!" Mineta slaps your ass  before pulling out and shoving his fingers inside your pussy. "Cum for me, Y/n. That's it cum on my hands." Mineta's fingers were the only thing that never really grew on him. They were relatively short but thick so even three of them were able to stretch your hole the way you needed. 

"Y-Yes, right there shit!" Your cum drips down his arm soiling the fabric there as you squint around him, "That's it give it to me." Mineta buried his face in your pussy licking you clean like a man starved. It wasn't until you whined did he stop and pull his fingers out. 

Luckily for you, his spheres were just about coming close to their time constraint. You stand up rubbing your wrists and drinking some water Mineta brings you. A snort captures your attention and Mineta holds up his phone, "Not even an hour." Writing in thick bold words read. 

"Obsessive Secretary Snaps on Camera!"

You snort, "I'm the obsessive one huh?" It was going to be a long day tomorrow 

[tomb-bloom-noctem]

To inject some Ducktales positivity back on this blog, what are your favorite episodes from each season?

Sorry this one got a little buried in the inbox 😅 onto it now!

FAVS!

Oh. Good question. Um. Honestly I love most of the episodes and there's only a few I genuinely hate. Sadly though they can't all be winners 😅 So I picked ones the ones I enjoyed overall best from each season.

Season 1:

Woo-oo!, The House of the Lucky Gander, McMystery at McDuck Manor, The Missing Links of Moorshire, The Spear of Selene, Beware the Buddy System, From the Confidential Casefiles of Agent 22, The Secrets of Castle McDuck, Who Is Gizmoduck, The Other Bin of Scrooge McDuck, The Last Crash of the Sunchaser, The Shadow War

Top pick: The Shadow War

I think this is one of the best episodes overall in terms of the show. It has family, heartbreak and reconciliation, action, drama, humor, I think this one is Ducktales at it's best. Much as I do also enjoy Moonvasion a lot, I kinda feel this one is the stronger finale. Either way though it's definitely a grand finale.

Season 2:

The Most Dangerous Game Night, The Depths of Cousin Fethry, The Town Where Everyone was Nice, Storkules in Duckburg, Whatever Happened to Della Duck, Friendship Hates Magic, Raiders of the Doomsday Vault, the Dangerous Chemistry of Gandra Dee, The Duck Knight Returns, Whatever Happened to Donald Duck, A Nightmare on Killmotor Hill, Moonvasion

Top Pick: The Duck Knight Returns

So some of Darkwing Duck hasn't aged the best but I think overall the show is great. And out of all the Disney Afternoon programs to include in Ducktales, Darkwing is definitely the best. And oh my gosh did they deliver! The new Drake is still recognizable in comparison to his 91 version but still gets a modernization. The relationship between him and LP is even better than before, the battle with Jim Starling is so much fun. Chris D does a phenomenal job as this newer Drake and Jim Cummings finally appearing on the show as Jim Starling/Negaduck was AWESOME.

Season 3:

The Challenge of the Senior Junior Woodchucks, Quack Pack, Double-O-Drake in You Only Crash Twice, The Lost Harp of Mervana, Louie's Eleven, Astro B.O.Y.D., The Phantom and the Sorceress, They Put a Moonlander on Earth, The Trickening, Let's Get Dangerous, Escape from the ImpossiBin, The Split Sword of Swanstatine, New Gods on the Block, The First Adventure, Beaks in the Shell

Top Pick: This one is legit a tie for me so I have to split it between Let's Get Dangerous and Louie's Eleven

Both of these episodes fill me with intensive joy i different ways. I get giddy whenever they're on O just love them. Let's Get Dangerous rocks even more of the amazing Drake and Launchpad dynamic (and yes I ship them) and we finally get Gosalyn. Like Drake she definitely resembles her 91 self in a way that's recognizable but she's also got a good modernization. Also I love how they modernized Taurus Bulba. He was instantly likable yet also crafty and very dangerous. Then also getting to see the Fearsome Four, getting a pretty hilarious DT87 reference "A SEA MONSTER ATE MY ICE CREAM!" The way the music swelled when Gosalyn couldn't shut off the Ramrod and prepared to destroy it, tears in her eyes. UGH GOOD STUFF. This episode has to be one of favorites.

But also love Louie's Eleven too much to not want it to be the top episode too. I adore healthy portrayals of Donsy and here we were delivered. It was refreshing to get to have Donald and Daisy meeting for the first time and have their portrayal instantly be healthier. Sure we still see some of that temper Daisy is known for too but thankfully not as bad as it can be. The way she instantly understands him. The way they smile at each other. When she hears him sing, she hears more than just his rough voice but rather the soul behind it. LOVE. And the way they team up to take on Graves and his team. The way Donald says "MY KIDS!" WHAT A DAD, I LOVE HIM. And the way at the end Donald sings and Daisy says she can listen to it all night and the two share such a loving look. I JUST ADORE IT.

And more than just the Donsy aspect of this episode, this was just ridiculously fun. Love the heist/scheme op at play. Love Louie getting to be Louie until he finally has to rely on his big brother Dewey. Then Dewey gets to Dewey it. And it's phenomenal. And of freaking course THE THREE CABALLEROS! YAY! I love them!!! This was just such a good episode I can't help but love it.

This is just my opinion though overall. This is not an attack on any episode or on anyone. I actually love this show overall I know I've been a bit critical lately but it's a really important show to me. Sad that it's over but happy it did happen.

[watchingspnagain]

Rewatching Shadow

Welcome to “Demons for Dummies: A Supernatural Rewatch Blog” with Lor and Mace!

 Up today, s1e16: Shadow

 Something kills a young woman inside her locked apartment—no forced entry, no way anything could get in. Sam and Dean show up to investigate (in some super spiffy coveralls), and Dean does some pretty sharp pattern recognition to put them on the track of the monster responsible. Meanwhile, they run into Meg in a random bar, and Sam is sus. Eventually they discover Meg is summoning some dark stuff, reunite with John (a happyish but charged encounter), and get sliced and diced by the monster. John then dictates that he and the boys must go their separate ways because it will be safer. Dean agrees. Sammy is not happy.

 Below is a log of our real-time reactions as we watched. Remember that there may be spoilers for any part of SPN’s 15-season run here.  Note also that the nature of our conversation is adult and thus it may contain adult language and themes.

 [and we begin:]

 Lor:

 snork the editing there

 Mace:

 YES

 Lor:

 this is so atmospheric and I just want to BEG her not to walk home alone this late at night

Mace:

 right?!

or tell her to just follow the spiders if she has questions

 Lor:

 HAAAAAHAHAHAHAHA

if she wanted to find out some... stuff

 Mace:

 exactly. so subtle, that Hagrid

 Lor:

 lololol

 TURN ON THE LIGHTS

 Mace:

 SNORK! YES

 Lor:

 turn them all on who DOES THIS?

 Mace:

 it's all part of her punk/goth vibe, man

 Lor:

 lolol

 welp now she has a splatter vibe

 Mace:

 snork

 Lor:

 NGGGGG the blue coveralls

 Mace:

 YAAAS

 Dean, you ARE a HS drama dork

 Lor:

 RIGHT?

 "about as useful as boobs on a man" omg

 Mace:

 you know I really don't like weapons and yet the first thing I thought of when this one started is, "Oh, I think this one has a Dean Cleaning Weapons scene!"

 Lor:

 LOL

my first thought was "I think this is one of the ones where Dean gets to be super smarty"

 they put their real names on the coveralls I cannot

 Mace:

 HA!

 "knock yourself out" woman, do NOT encourage Sammy because it WILL happen

 Lor:

 HAAHAHAHAHAHA

 YAS it is this one. this bit with the masking tape and the pattern

 Mace:

YES

 Lor:

 lololol Dean

 Mace:

 the little smile when he holds up the number!

 Lor:

 YES

too adorable

 Mace:

 yep

 I'm chagrined to say that I suspect early Dean's type of flirting would never have worked on me. His later, grumpy persona would do it in a heartbeat, though

 Lor:

Dean's grumpy bit would work IMMEDIATELY

I would have been oblivious to the early flirting. I LITERALLY would be like "why is the adorable dude like this?"

 Mace:

EXACTLY. I would have been HIGHLY skeptical of his honesty

 Lor:

LOL I wouldn't even have been skeptical. just confused

 MEG

 Mace:

 Ugh Meg

 Lor:

 what is so annoying about her?

 lololol Sam's who?

 Mace:

 Ha!

YES

 Lor:

 adorable Sam getting all the info he needs

 Mace:

 YES

 Lor:

 "were you bitching about me to some chick?"

oh Dean, honey

 Mace:

 how many times do they actually say the word "supernatural" on this show, I wonder?

 Lor:

 not much I don't think

 Mace:

 (also, this is not the episode I thought it was)

 Lor:

 (oo, what episode did you think it was?)

 Mace:

(the one with whozit trying to be a hunter and sneaking out of her mom's bar (I can't remember her name either) and mooning over Dean)

  Lor:

 (oh, Jo?)

 Mace:

 (yes)

 Lor:

 (aahh)

 Mace:

 (but we haven't even met them yet right? I get so confused)

 Lor:

 (yeah, I think that's not till S2?)

 "poetry reading, or whatever it is you do"

 Mace:

 HA!

 "bite me" "bite her!"

 Lor:

 LOLOLOLOLOL

 Dean not telling Sam what the last book is he read...

 Mace:

 yeah because it was How to Heal Your Possibly-Demon-Seed Brother for Dummies

 Lor:

HAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

 Mace:

 Aw, Sammy trying not to look but not doing a great job

 Lor:

 haahahahaha

 Mace:

 Come ON, Sammy, this is clearly a TRAP

 Lor:

Sammy is sus though, surely

 Mace:

 I guess that's why he's climbing the elevator shaft, yeah

 Lor:

oooo, a weird cup and an altar

probs fine

 Mace:

 yeah

 Lor:

 it is interesting that we already know she's shady and at least demon-adjacent before this

 Mace:

 yeah

 Lor:

 so, like, this is all about Sam finding out

 Mace:

 YES

 Lor:

 TALKING TOGETHER

 Mace:

 HA!

 "Sammy's got a thing for bad girls"

Shall we talk about how you're going to have a summer of love with the King of Hell, Dean?

 Lor:

 HAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

omg

YES

 Mace:

 I LOVE that shirt on Dean

 Lor:

 YES

 Lor:

 Sammy working out his shoulder after he puts the bag down

 Mace:

 YAS

 Lor:

 oh Dean

 Mace:

 yeah

 Lor:

 "yeah, I don't want you to leave the second this thing's over, Sam"

oooof, the leaning on the dresser

 Mace:

 YES

 Lor:

 all he wants is his family I CANNOT

 Mace:

 right? my god, he's so insecure, the poor rabbit

 Lor:

 oooof that determined petulant face Dean makes when Sam says he's gonna have to let him go his own way

 Mace:

 YES

 Lor:

 "well that didn't work out like I planned"

 Mace:

 HA!

 Lor:

 I LOVE the shadow attacks in this epsiode

 Mace:

 YES

 Lor:

 clever and thematically relevant

 Mace:

 YES

 the fact that Sam is the one who figures out it's a trap for John is so interesting

 Lor:

 YES

 no he doesn't

he's completely obsessed with finding Mary's killer. he's only gonna show up bc Dean said they thought they had a lead on it

 Mace:

 YEP

 Ha! Dean still feels left out

 Lor:

LOL

 so weird for Sam to be the one getting assaulted like this

 Mace:

 the show hasn't completely shifted to being about Dean yet maybe

 Lor:

 yeah

 SAM

SO CLEVER

 Mace:

 YES

 wow the looks on both their faces when they see John

 Lor:

 RIGHT?

and the look on Dean's face when he's hugging him

I NEED him to have someone not abusive to hug him

 Mace:

 yeah

 Lor:

 and the way they "yes sir" him

 Mace:

 yep that burns my biscuits

 Lor:

 YEP

because it ISN'T the way that southerners (and maybe some midwesterners? I don't know about that) sir and ma'am their parents. it's a very different thing

 Mace:

 yeah

 that shot with Sam and John hugging and Dean looking on is fantastic

 Lor:

 YES

 Dean being practically in tears because they are making up. I can't

 Mace:

 SMARTY SAMMY

 Lor:

 YES

 Mace:

 "we almost got Dad killed in there" omg Dean

 Lor:

 oh DEAN

 he blames himself I CANNOT

 fall down a manhole and disappear, John

 Mace:

 yes, John, do that, nowish

 Lor:

 THEIR FACES

 Mace:

 YES

and John's smug bitch-ass face

 Lor:

 the grief and pain and almost tears and WITH THE BLOOD

 UG

 "Be careful, boys" because I'm sure not gonna help you out

 Mace:

 oh RIGHT that whole thing about them not showing realistic damage unless they're also super emotionally damaged

 Lor:

 YESYESYES

 Mace:

 is this the first time we see them this torn up, physically?

 Lor:

 i think it may be

 [after the episode ended:]

Lor:

it's interesting to me how much of what is awful about John is things you have to glean from what the boys say about their past and things you kind of have to think about. like, he's not actually particularly un-good in this episode? but we KNOW that he was an abusive jerk. which feels kind of realistic for a lot of familial abuse. it doesn't necessarily look so bad from the outside. I wonder if the show knows it's doing that

 Mace:

 Agreed. But I deeply suspect it was not on purpose. I love this show, but it doesn't seem sophisticated in that particular way

 Lor:

 yeah, agree. I don't think it's on purpose. also, it's possible that some of the writers were doing it on purpose and some weren’t, like in small things.

[tundrainafrica]

I’m so scared that the Hanji’s shard was actually her coming back to life!I’m not talking about the beast titan theory.I kinda think that for some reason the rumbling victims will be brought back to life (Zeke style with the titan carcass) and since I feel like Levi’s gonna sacrifice himself next chapter to detonate the bomb,he wont be back because they can only bring back the ones who died from the actual rumbling.I hope I’m making some sense right now.That promo photo of the vets where Hange was the only one looking directly at us was scaring me.Is that a hint of some sort?Don’t get me wrong,I truly want her back but at what cost?

Thanks for the ask anon! This is a pretty interesting take on the ending. 

To be honest, I kinda avoided making predictions about AOT at first because recently, every time I try to predict what happens next in a show, I imagine game of thrones and I imagine all the people who made predictions about game of thrones only to get that sorry excuse for slapstick humor that is season 8. The disappointment the fans of GOT is unfathomable and I don’t think I want to experience the same thing with AOT.

But... Since you’re bringing up predictions about the final chapters of AOT, might as well unearth my own thoughts about what will happen based on patterns I see from Yams and the general theme of the story.

yolo coz this answer is gonna be obsolete in like a week anyway.

I’m so scared that the Hanji’s shard was actually her coming back to life! I’m not talking about the beast titan theory. I kinda think that for some reason the rumbling victims will be brought back to life (Zeke style with the titan carcass)

I don’t believe Hange’s coming back to life. She’s my favorite character, I would have wanted her to get a better ending that what she did but I don’t think that’s where the story is going thematically. So I think Hange will stay dead. 

The main saviors of this show were set up to be Armin, Mikasa, Gaby and Falco and possibly the 104th cadets so I think generally vets like Pieck, Zeke, Hange and Levi are gonna end up dying (which they are already doing) to give space to the main cast to shine and step up. 

And I don’t think Yams would be the type of person to pull some Naruto Pain Arc shit and would magically bring everyone back to life. This show just never approached death similarly to other shows. The only time the show has ever brought someone back to life was with Armin (and okay fine to a degree Eren) but those two were never dead. With Hange, I think there was some finality to her death because although Hange did amazing stuff in the story, a lot of parts of her were not as fleshed out as that of EMA or FG so it would be odd for Hange to suddenly get revived and take the spot light when it was FG and EMA who were set up for something greater. 

(Now that I think about it though, with what’s happening now, I kinda have trouble understanding what type of message Yams wants to give so I might still be completely wrong)

As Levi mentioned in his own monologue though in the latest chapter, the vets job ended when they lead the kids to the sea and I think there should be a thematic reason behind that and that line really is giving hints to what Yams has in store for them.

I feel like Levi’s gonna sacrifice himself next chapter to detonate the bomb, he wont be back because they can only bring back the ones who died from the actual rumbling.

I am really bracing myself for Levi’s death. I really don’t think Levi will survive until the end of the manga. Although, I am praying he does, at this point, I think I’m praying more that I’m gonna have the strength to handle it if he does die. 

Levi has been getting a lot of death flags lately. I mean if you notice how the main characters have been dying lately, it’s usually like they get a really horrible injury or a permanent injury then within a few chapters, they die. That same thing happened with Erwin with his arm, then Sasha (Her injury in Shiganshina was bad) then Hange with her eye. 

And Levi got the brunt of all of those injuries. If Levi does survive he’s gonna be bedridden for months but I don’t think he’s even gonna make it back, his knee is fucked, his innards are fucked but to a degree, I feel like Levi was built for something, Yams didn’t let him survive being blown off then being bitten for no reason so whatever he dies doing is going to be incredibly important to the plot. 

Maybe, he’ll be the one who detonates the bomb like you said. But I don’t know I’m having trouble imagining how detonating the bomb would be the most crucial piece of bringing Eren back. Although they have been talking about it for a while, the fact that its taking them 2 chapters to even decide on detonating it? With Pieck trying and with Mikasa hesitating? I don’t think it will be that easy. There must be another crucial piece they will be considering and whatever that crucial piece will be, Levi might just lose his life making it possible. 

I hope I’m making some sense right now. That promo photo of the vets where Hange was the only one looking directly at us was scaring me. Is that a hint of some sort? Don’t get me wrong, I truly want her back but at what cost?

That promo art was beautiful and Hange is beautiful. It might be a long shot considering the relationship between promo art and the ending. Her promo art was unsettling but I think one big reason for that type of art could be a hint to her development in season 4 and the fact that she’s a lot more subdued this season. We all have seen how she talked in the last two episodes. I feel even Romi Park was coached on Hange’s traumas and her insecurities because with Romi Park’s work with hange in the last two episodes, it almost felt like Hange was a different person which is reasonable given her development the past 4 years after becoming commander. I do have a meta on Hange’s psych which you can check out here.

I want Hange back too but I kinda don’t want Hange back in exchange for some asspull. If she is built up for some return then that would be great but really, how often has Yams brought a character back to life and would he really bring her back side with only three chapters left and with EMA and FG still not completely developed?

There’s a word for this in Tagalog with no English equivalent which summarizes my thoughts on Hange’s fate. HAHA. So for my filipino followers who end up reading this. 

Oo nabibitin pa rin sa naging buhay at naging kamatayan ni Hange.  

Roughly speaking, Hange’s life and death seemed incomplete to me. Maybe because personally I was so fixated with her, I am so in love with her that I just couldn’t believe that she would end up meeting that type of faith. Because to me, she was always built for a greatness larger than she experienced then. But maybe it was all in my head, maybe that was just my own personal perspective as the audience. 

Yams gave us enough crumbs to get us to understand that Hange is great. Hange was an amazing character. Just like he gave us enough crumbs to understand that Erwin was a great character too. Sasha was an amazing character too. 

But Yams made sure to remind us too that everyone dies and so many amazing people are fated to meet unsatisfying deaths and he’s been saying that same thing since the first chapter with the fall of Wall Maria with that comparison between humans and cattle and let us all remember how horrifying the deaths of many of our other favorite characters were.

And in the grand scheme of things with the themes Yams was building, slowly transferring the fate of the world to the younger generations, where do Levi and Hange fit? 

At this rate, I’m probably gonna end up getting my fix from fanfiction so I’m really just bracing myself for this.

(I really hope I’m wrong though)

[canyouhearthelight]

The Miys, Ch. 106

I know I’ve been on a fluff kick lately, and I’m not even remotely sorry. This chapter started out as an excuse to re-visit an offhand comment from a previous chapter, and ended up with Sophia having the kind of night off I wish I could have.

Thanks go out to @baelpenrose (beta and also creator of our favorite teacher-cum-warlord-cum-teacher), @charlylimph-blog (because no one else could have created the ball of chaotic friendliness that is Charly, nor her strong, silent, and charming partner), @werewolf2578 (because I will never not love Maverick), and @creakingcryptid (for donating faerself and Antoine early on to the cause, and putting up with me in real life.  This entire story, from chapter 1, would never have happened if not for faer, and I’m not even remotely exaggerating about that).

“Lift the right corner a bit more,” Tyche called out. “Yeah - Dammit, Arthur, that’s too high. Bring it down a bit more.”

“Do you want to swap?” he quipped, dropping his side of the large, white sheet to exactly where it had been before.

Ignoring him, Tyche asked Maverick to lower his corner instead, to much greater success. At least satisfied with the results, she turned to me and made a ‘ta-da’ gesture towards their work.

I shook my head at her. “And we need this why?”

“Movie night,” she reminded me needlessly.

“Eyeah. It was kind of my idea.”

“And none of us have been to a proper movie theater in ages.” She had a point there.

“Do we even have a projector?” Maverick asked, grinning, as he walked up.

Arthur, right behind him, grinned almost malevolently before Tyche cut him off with a glare. “I told Charly we were doing a movie night,” she offered by way of explanation.

“She insisted she had popcorn covered,” Arthur ventured carefully. “Do I even want to know?”

Eyes wide, I turned to him. “She didn’t tell you?”

He shook his head. “I asked what that meant, and all I got out of her was a maniacal laugh. By any chance, does she always carry around a cartoon-villain moustache in case she needs to twirl it?”

“And cat ears, yeah,” I confirmed absently. “She really didn’t tell you?”

“I just asked if she got the consoles to actually make popcorn that wasn’t better used as packing material,” he admitted.

Maverick erupted in laughter. “You are in for a treat.”

“Will it poison me?”

“Doubtful,” Tyche shrugged regretfully.

“Hmm. Pity.”

Trying to get somewhat back on topic, I pressed on about the projector. “So, you told Charly we were doing movie night this week, so she is going to… obtain? Steal? Jury-rig a projector?”

“I try not to ask, unlike some people,” Tyche arched an eyebrow defiantly. “Gift horses, mouths, you get it.”

“I doubt she’s stealing one,” Maverick offered. “She’s an engineer. Pretty sure she already had one she made, or is finishing one up as we speak.”

Fair. “What movie did we end up agreeing on?”

Maverick and Arthur answered in unison. “Star Wars.”

“Nuh uh. Nope,” my sister argued. “Repo! The Genetic Opera.”

“I’m with her,” I jerked my finger toward the person not insisting I watch a movie about a war in space while actually on a spaceship.

We continued arguing good-naturedly while getting non-popcorn snacks and drinks together. Arthur, to no small amount of surprise, was putting a very impressive amount of thought and consideration into the arrangement of blankets and pillows on every conceivable seating surface in my living room - some of which I didn’t even recognize and probably didn’t want to know where he got them.  At some point, Derek and Sam arrived, judging by the latter sitting happily next to a moving lump in Arthur’s careful construction and petting my cat.

About the time snacks were ready to be carried into the living room, the door opened to reveal Conor, who abruptly stopped to remove his work boots.  Unfortunately, he was knocked down by a clattering intruder behind him and saved only by the - no joke - knee deep ocean of bedding.  A hinged brass lid and a metal piece of something went flying past his head, revealing the intruder to be Charly. “Hi, guys!” she waved cheerfully. “Don’t worry. Coffey has the projector.”

White teeth flashed in a dark, handsome face as the man in question held up the device. “Her hands were full,” he shrugged before glancing past Conor. “You take movie nights seriously,” he added with an approving nod.

Charly, who I couldn’t remember having even seen wear shoes, had already scrambled over Conor’s laughing form so that she could grab the lid and basket, which she brought along with the enormous pot into my kitchen area. “Popcorn,” she declared, gently slamming the pot on a heating surface.  “As promised. I’m thinking green today.”

“That’s not popcorn,” Arthur pointed out, curiosity etched into every bit of his face.

“Duh, Mr. Farro,” she sputtered. “It’s how we’re going to get popcorn.  The consoles never season it, and it’s always stale, or soggy, or just… not good.  So. I made a whirlypop.” With a clatter, she patted her copper contraption. “It makes absolutely perfect kettle corn, every time. And I can make it whatever color I want, too.”

“It’s really good popcorn,” I confirmed. “She brought some to your fight with Jokul.”

“Of course she did,” he sighed. “I thought you said no selling tickets and no concession stand for that?”

“Doesn’t mean she can’t bring her own, screaming blue popcorn with her,” I held up both hands in surrender. “I couldn’t argue with the logic, and she was the only person there with popcorn, can confirm.” 

When I glanced back at her, I saw what I pretty much expected to see: her handy cartoon-villain moustache was pasted firmly on her face and she was twirling one end in what could only be described as a dastardly fashion. Arthur, on the other hand, was almost sputtering. “I - how? I was facing you, Charly. How?”

“Don’t ask, you probably don’t want to know,” I sighed with a wave of my hand. “Besides, I’m reasonably certain the answer involves a collective hallucination, blood sacrifice, or time travel.”

“Two out of three,” Charly nodded, sounding impressed but not clarifying any further. “So! Everyone ready for- oo! Mini pizzas! - popcorn and Master and Commander?”  A collective groan went up at a third movie being added to our ongoing argument over what we had agreed to watch. “What!? It’s my favorite!”

Maverick explained the conversation we had earlier to those who arrived after. Even having nine people voting now didn’t help: we were still split evenly across all three movies.  In the end, we agreed to take a run at watching all three, but that led to another discussion - what order?  We knew the odds of getting through all three were slim, and nobody wanted theirs to be left out.

Sam finally interrupted us. “If we don’t stay awake through all three, can we watch the last movie on another night?”

My jaw clicked shut mid-argument. Tyche tilted her head, “That makes entirely too much sense.”

With that anticlimactic resolution, we quickly took votes to determine which movies were most popular.  In the end, we ended up with Star Wars first, Master and Commander second, and Repo! last, much to my and Tyche’s chagrin.  At least we weren’t the only ones who voted for it, so I was mollified. Somewhat.

While we were hashing all that out, Charly somehow called upon the popcorn deities and managed to fill nearly every bowl and bucket she could find in my quarters with a rainbow of fluffy kernels. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t figure how she managed to make that much in roughly fifteen minutes, and when I asked, the only answer I could manage to get from her was “Two out of three, like I said.”

I wasn’t asking after that, because I wasn’t sure I wanted to know if blood magic was involved, honestly.

Antoine arrived right as I was trying to figure out how to fit on the couch, where Maverick and Conor were cuddling and hogging the whole damned thing.  Unfortunately, between the immense quantities of popcorn, blankets, pillows, and people strewn everywhere - and somehow my Christmas lights were carefully hanging from the ceiling, which I had a sneaking suspicion was Derek’s doing - our poor resident therapist looked a bit confused.

I couldn’t help but grin as I waved at the chaos. “Welcome to movie night, apparently. You can sit anywhere except there,” I explained, gesturing at a particular pile of blankets.

“Why not - ah….” he trailed off in understanding as a hand darted out of the ‘pile’ to snag a mini pizza.

“Eyeah, only Mac can sit there, I think. And nobody better be feeding him pizza?” I warned. “Whoever does gets to keep stinky cat for the night while he has tummy trouble.” Turning back toward the couch, I stuck my lip out in a pout. “Where am I supposed to sit?”

“We’re comfy….” Conor whined, hiding what was probably a grin behind Maverick’s head. Rather than sitting up in any capacity, the two were laying down along the entire length of the couch, both their feet sticking off. There was maybe two inches of couch between them and the edge.

While my attention was focused on my boyfriends, two strong hands grabbed each of my arms and tugged me down. With a yelp, I fell across Charly and my sister, both of them giggling. Deliberately, Charly started to pet my hair as clumsily as humanly possible, and the scowl I directed at her set Tyche off in hysterics. When I opened my mouth to protest, popcorn was thrown in.  With another scowl, I surrendered to being draped across both of their laps, with a fluffy blanket spread over me from somewhere.

I still sulked, and ignored that I probably looked like a particularly perturbed cat.  With much determination, I managed to keep a scowl on my face until the first movie started rolling.  It was hard to stay even faux-upset after that, as what ensued was the most laid back night I had enjoyed in longer than I could remember. Seats were stolen every time someone got up for any reason, snacks were eaten and refilled, popcorn got everywhere….

It. Was. Glorious.

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[reeltoreal-cl]

Black TV Shows & BGLOs

In 2020, the United States is finally confronting its issues with racism in society as well as the entertainment industry. With that, there has been a surge in black content on various streaming platforms.

Television shows with predominantly African-American casts often feature a glimpse at special pockets of black culture. One pocket often featured is the cultural experience of pledging historically black fraternities and sororities, otherwise known as Black Greek Letter Organizations (BGLOs). The five fraternities and four sororities that comprise BGLOs, affectionately called “The Divine Nine,” are officially known as the National Pan-Hellenic Council (NPHC).

Feature films tend to focus either on stepping, as with Stomp The Yard and Step Sisters, or the issue of pledging vs. hazing, as with School Daze and Burning Sands. Black sitcoms and other small screen productions, however, tend to explore BGLO issues with more nuance and humor.

A Different World - Ep. #216 - “It’s Greek to Me” - 1989 - NBC

Hillman College best friends Dwayne and Ron are in the midst of pledging fictional fraternity Kappa Lambda Nu. As time goes on, Dwayne becomes disillusioned with the process and argues with Ron over whether what they’re enduring is worth the benefits of the frat. Dwayne eventually drops line while Ron crosses into the brotherhood, and they see that their friendship can survive different paths. The matter is handled amicably and respectfully, and Ron is seen in future episodes as an active member.

Season 2 is when A Different World found its identity within the HBCU experience, as Debbie Allen took over the direction of the series after Denise’s character departed. Debbie and sister Phylicia Rashad are both Howard University alumnae, and Phylicia is a member of Alpha Kappa Alpha.

A Different World - Ep. #421 - “Sister to Sister, Sister” - 1991 - NBC

Though no episodes depicted Whitley pledging, in this one Whitley oversees Kim’s pledge process for fictional sorority Alpha Delta Rho. Like its predecessor, the episode questions the pledge process itself, and further, the ethics of whether someone should pledge a friend. While Whitley defends her actions, Kim ultimately gets revenge when she over-seasons Whitley’s eggs with pepper. Whitley realizes she was being harder on Kim because they were friends, and learns how to be a better sister overall.

You can watch A Different World with a subscription to Amazon Prime Video.

The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air - Ep. #408 - “Blood is Thicker Than Mud” - 1993 - NBC

Once Will and Carlton matriculate to University of Los Angeles, they decide to pledge fictional fraternity Phi Beta Gamma. However, things take a turn for the worst when Will finds out he made the cut, but Carlton didn’t because he doesn’t “fit their image.” When Carlton finds out the truth, he reads them for filth in an iconic speech that defends his authenticity. There is no mention of the fraternity in the rest of their college experience.

You can watch The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air with a subscription to HBO Max.

Moesha - Ep. #224 - “Prom Fright” - 1997 - UPN

The episode begins with Frank reminiscing about Kappa Alpha Psi with his frat brother, complete with cane twirling and chanting, “I'm pretty on my left, I'm pretty on my right, I'm so damn pretty I can't sleep at night!” Frank believes his frat brother’s Harvard-bound son would be a good fit to date Moesha as an alternative to Q, but later finds out the boy isn’t interested in Kappa or anything Frank had hoped for. The boy even says he isn’t interested in organizations that perpetuate a “herd mentality,” a rarity in depictions of children with parents in BGLOs.

Moesha - Ep. #401 - “Moesha Meets Brandy” - 1998 - UPN

There is no discussion about Greek life in this episode, however, Moesha’s new college boyfriend Aaron and his frat brother show up wearing Kappa Alpha Psi shirts for their weekend trip to Big Bear.

Moesha - Ep. #407 - “A Terrible Thing Happened on My Tour of College” - 1998 - UPN

Moesha and her friends take a campus tour for prospective student weekend of Maynard University. Part of their introduction to campus is a step show featuring Omega Psi Phi, Kappa Alpha Psi (and Moesha’s ex Aaron from #401), and Delta Sigma Theta. This episode centers on Moesha grappling with the betrayal of a college student named Melvin drugging her drink at a college party, but thankfully Aaron comes to her rescue.

One of the writers on Moesha was Mara Brock Akil, who pledged Delta Sigma Theta at Northwestern University.

You can watch Moesha with a subscription to Netflix.

Sister, Sister - Ep. #608 - “Greek to Me” - 1998 - The WB

Like the transition from ABC to The WB, the show saw Tia and Tamera transition from high school to University of Michigan. As the twins are exposed to Greek life, Tamera finds her anniversary dinner plans interrupted when Jordan goes undercover for student newspaper to investigate hazing. Meanwhile, Ray tries to convince Tia to pledge Alpha Kappa Alpha, while Lisa tries to sway her towards Delta Sigma Theta.

Lead actor Tim Reid wore an Alpha Phi Alpha sweatshirt in this episode, as he pledged the fraternity at Norfolk Stage College.

You can watch Sister, Sister with a subscription to Netflix.

The Parkers - Ep. #101 - “Grape Nuts” - 1999 - UPN

As Nikki and Kim start Santa Monica Community College, they also decide to pledge the fictional Alpha Alpha Alpha, or “Triple A’s.” As they continue in the pledge process, however, Nikki becomes increasingly fed up, which leads her to tell off the sorority sisters. She drops the line while Kim goes on to cross.

This is a rare depiction of a mother and daughter on the same line, as well as an extreme age gap in pledges for a collegiate one.

The Parkers - Ep. #404 - “Meter Maids Need Love, Too” - 2002 - UPM

Kim and Stevie are troubled by three ex-cons pledging their same sorority. Meanwhile, a fictional fraternity pledge bothers Professor Oglevee and T. While some sororities have clauses against criminal records, this is a rare depiction of one in which women who’ve traded prison for college are able to participate.

You can watch The Parkers with subscriptions to Netflix and YouTube TV.

Girlfriends - Ep. #616 - “Game Over” - 2006 - UPN / The CW

The show’s transition from UPN to The CW coincided with Joan’s transition to “It Girl” with the success of her restaurant The J-Spot. In this episode she mentions that she will be honored at a gala for business women thrown by Delta Sigma Theta, and needs to ask one of her potential suitors to be her date.

With this show being set post-college, this reference is a reminder that sororities and fraternities continue to be involved in their communities well beyond the collegiate pledge process and for good causes.

Girlfriends creator Mara Brock Akil pledged Delta Sigma Theta at Northwestern University, and previously wrote on Moesha.

You can watch Girlfriends with a subscription to Netflix.

Luke Cage - Ep. #108 - “Blowin’ Up The Spot” - 2016 - Netflix

When the police bring in Mariah for questioning, Misty jokes with Priscilla, “Look, I was just about to compel her to make a statement before you let your little soror Skee-Wee on out of here.” This is a reference to Alpha Kappa Alpha, but Priscilla corrects Misty with, “Oo-Oop,” indicating that she and Mariah are members of Delta Sigma Theta instead.

Similar to Girlfriends, the show exists outside of the collegiate realm. Mariah is a politician and Prisicilla is an inspector, showing that women in these organizations go on to have prolific careers, in which they are often expected to have each other’s backs in various situations.

You can watch Luke Cage with a subscription to Netflix.

Dear White People - Ep. #104 - “Chapter IV” - 2017 - Netflix

With a blast from the past, this episode sheds light on Coco and Sam’s friendship as freshmen and how their different experiences affected it. Coco is eager to join fictional sorority Alpha Delta Rho, while Sam wants to join the Black Student Union. Alpha Delta Rho is more interested in Sam than Coco due to colorism, and when Coco finds out, she drops. When the sorority sisters later attempt to enter the Pegasus Party that Coco is in, she denies them access.

Colorism is a topic that many in the African-American community are finally beginning to have open conversations about. This is another rare depiction among portrayals of BGLOs, as it is a controversial part of the culture that speaks to issues of elitism.

Alpha Delta Rho may be a callback to A Different World, as it bears the same name and similar colors to Whitley’s fictional sorority. Early on in the episode, Sam even describes their historically black dorm “like a mini Hillman College.”

You can watch Dear White People with a subscription to Netflix.

Marlon - Ep. #208 - “Homecoming” - 2018 - Netflix

When Marlon and Stevie return to Howell University, Marlon is reunited with his frat brothers, with whom he founded a fictional fraternity for those rejected by the more popular ones on campus. Marlon looks forward to overseeing the latest line of pledges, until he realizes that Stevie is on line as an alumnus. It is later revealed that Marlon was the one who blocked Stevie from joining while they were in college, and Stevie becomes determined to prove his worth. Stevie ultimately completes the process, and the episode is punctuated by a step show.

You can watch Marlon with a subscription to Netflix.

While popular 90s sitcoms and TV shows in the late 2010s feature similar references to BGLO experiences, they often were able to host more complex conversations about them in the span of an episode, especially in regards to character values and relationship dynamics. Here’s hoping that as the new renaissance of black television takes place, we see even more diverse perspectives on these fraternities and sororities in relation to issues at large.

[sandalaris]

Hang with you ask: Other than SethKate, what are some other characters/ships/fandoms you have an interest in writing about in the near future? 💖

Oo, good question.

In general, Jeff/Annie are a ship I’d love to write for someday. And Community lends itself to AUs so beautifully and I’d love to write in the fandom some day soon.

I also have that Community/FDtD crossover that I want to finish, with Jeff getting to put his lawyer skill to use defending Seth’s right to remain human. And I’d like to explore a Britta/Richie angle in it.

I know I want to write at least a one-shot for The Umbrella Academy. One that primarily focuses on Five and his second-puberty thing he’s got going on. Not sure if I’d every write a multi-chapter fic for them though.

Possibly, because I don’t know if there’s a full fic there, I’d like to write about Diego and Vanya’s being friends during their teenage years. (I’m convinced they grew close during their mid to late teen, there’s way too much betrayed anger on his part and a sort of guilty ducking on hers for there not to be history there.) I’m tempted to do a whole series of one-shots with the sibs at various points, but I’m not sure I’ll be inspired enough to do them all justice.

I don’t think I’ll ever write it, but I want a Lucifer story, where Chloe ends up Hell via Luci’s magic coin (circa season one) and none of the demons know what to do with having a living breathing human down below and Chloe’s still reeling from getting a crash course in all things Lucifer but she figures it out. Not sure this one counts, since I don’t really want to write it, I just want it to spring up one day so I can read it, lol.

I have a Kisa/Richie (with SethKate background) fic brewing. It’s very AU, inspired by the Princess Bride (but with many many changes), with Kisa telling Scott and Kate the story of how she went from a simple village girl in love with a farm girl to captured by an emperor to escaping with the Dread Pirate Geckos onto their ship.

I’d also love to get back into writing for the Teen Wolf fandom. Not full time, but there are stories there I want to write.

Added: I also have a FDtD AU fic that I'm pretty determined not to write, although it does show up in one of the sentence prompts you sent me (still working on those, btw!), but it would probably have SethKate in it if I ever did write it. (It has no plot, just a concept, so I really don't think I ever will write it as anything other than bits and drabbles.)

[taerseok]

there once was a home. | ksj

Pairing: Seokjin × f.reader

Synopsis: “There was once a home that you shared with Seokjin. Perhaps, home was home because it had Seokjin. Now, there is none.”

Word Count: 4.4k

Genre / Rating: Angst, very mild fluff / PG-13

TW: Death, blood & hospitals, mentions of a weapon (gun), MCD!au, use of phone while driving, burglary & swearing

NOTES:

• First of all, thank you soo much to @arizonapoppy​ for reading this over and helping me spruce it up.

 • Secondly, this oneshot is dedicated to my beautiful brenmate @bangtan-dreamland​ who is the best person in the world and you cannot convince me otherwise >:OO I LOVE YOU SO MUCH ERIS!! me hope you like hehe (◕ᴗ◕✿) even if you have already read this because i was too lazy to post it afterwards.

There is this hollow feeling in your chest, eating you away as seconds slip by.

There once was a home that you shared with Seokjin. Perhaps, home was home because it had Seokjin. Now, there is none.

But when did it start? When did you two simply lose your minds to the point he had to be admitted to a hospital, to the point that you, despite seeing him laying in a pool of blood, did not lift a finger?

Let’s start at the beginning of this. Let’s start on June 6th.

══════◄••❀••►══════

You were sitting in the living room, the faint sound of the aircon almost lulling you to sleep, and on multiple occasions, you did fall asleep for what you thought were five minutes or so, but could’ve been more. 

You were waiting for Seokjin to come back home.

Lately, it had always been like this, so you weren’t surprised he was late, yet again. But still. Welcoming him home was the least you could do for him.

Not because you were married or anything, no— the thought actually sounded ridiculous to you, your cheeks burning red at how wild your fantasies were becoming— but because you were roommates.

That was all.

Just a roommate waiting for another roommate to come home. Suspicious? Maybe. Maybe you did like Seokjin a little (or a lot), and maybe you did want to do this so he’d think nicely of you, but still! It wasn’t as if other roommates wouldn’t wait for theirs to come home from work.

Looking at the clock to your right, you sighed. 1 o’clock. Yup. They’d definitely wait this long.

It was then, finally, that your phone rang. Picking it up, upon closer inspection, you realised it was Seokjin calling you.

“Where in the world are you? You know how worried I was!?” Your brows furrowed. You didn’t give him a chance to speak, simply caught up in the pent-up frustration. 

“Relax, damn it. It’s not as if I was out with friends at a club or anything—”

“—You were, weren’t you?”

“No, no. I wasn’t.”

“Then why do you sound drunk?”

You heard him sigh on the other side. “Forget that. Can you please come pick me up?” You wanted to blow up so badly, so fucking badly. But it’d be better, you frowned, if you met him face-to-face and gave him your 2-cents on this whole catastrophe.

“Send me the address and wait there. I’m coming.”

══════◄••❀••►══════

You watched as Seokjin got into the car next to your seat, glaring daggers at him. “You better not think I’m your personal driver or anything,” but I’d love to be your wife, “Because I’m not going to be around here for long.”

“You say it like you’re going to die instead of moving away,” he rolled his eyes. “Shut it. I’m just telling you not to rely on me for everything. I’m not going to die,” you said, trying your best to keep most of your attention on the road, the flashing lights of the passing cars. Seokjin was the biggest distraction (and oddly enough, you loved it).

“Mhmm,” Seokjin slowly hummed, arms crossed in front of his chest as he sank back on the seat. Hand finding the mp3 player, he turned a quiet melody on. 

In the midst of the wet season, today after the rain, 

a lukewarm wind blows through the quiet night streets.

You sighed, head nodding along to the rhythm of the song. “So you’re really moving away?” At his naive question, you turned silent. 

You were moving, in just less than two months, in fact, to another city. You were leaving the apartment you shared with Seokjin, all those laughs and joy you two shared. It hurt a little. Just a little. Knowing Seokjin didn’t find it difficult at all, it helped.

I can’t tell how you feel. The more I want, the more it hurts.

Even so, I could never hate you.

Unlike the pain you had, leaving behind someone so precious to you, Seokjin didn’t like you in that way at all. And maybe that’s for the better, you smiled faintly, because at least then, you wouldn’t have to go through the pain of parting. After all, parting only matters if both individuals care, right?

And if he didn’t care, then it was all for the best.

“Yup,” you replied. “But anyway, you came here with friends, didn’t you?” You raised a brow, stealing a glance at him before turning back to the road. 

He nodded lightly. “They left me.”

“Wow.”

“What do you mean “wow”?” He pouted. “I was so scared someone was going to kidnap me for my handsome face or something.” 

You rolled your eyes at the so-very-humble answer. “You’ve got some great friends there.”

“They aren’t even my friends, just co-workers.”

“Shows how much they respect you,” you grinned, watching how his brows furrowed and he pouted even more. “You’re really mean.” Letting a snicker escape, you rolled eyes once more. “I saved you from potentially getting kidnapped, like you said. I’m not mean. Your co-workers are. Maybe you should get some better friends.”

“Like who?”

Your face felt hot at the reply that came to you, as you hesitated whether to say it or not. “I don’t… know. Like… me, maybe,” you shrugged it off, heart skipping beats. You kept your attention on the road, not wanting to see his reaction.

I can’t hold it, I can’t reach it.

I can’t hold it, that heart of yours.

He chuckled, patting you on the head. “Careful, we could get killed, y’know,” you said, referring to the traffic ahead. Your gaze averted to him for a moment, taking in the sweet look on his face. That pretty smile, those starry eyes.

“I wouldn’t mind dying with you, it’s fine.”

The temptation to pull him in and kiss him kept growing. Your grip on the wheel tightened, you barely being able to suppress the desire to tell him about your true feelings.

“And what if I lived and you didn’t make it?”

“Then you could tell everyone that the last person I ever looked at was you.”

You tried not to laugh, you really did; but ended up giggling anyway. “You’re ridiculous. I’d never let you die.”

“For as long as you’re here, I know I’ll be fine.”

“Good. Because… I-I’ll keep you safe.”

‘It’s just my own thinking.’

I want to cry when I feel this way,

I want to know how you feel.

══════◄••❀••►══════

“YN-ah,” Seokjin pouted the next weekend, arm around yours, head resting on your shoulder. “Give me attention.”

You rolled your eyes. “I’m working on my blog, Jin, I can’t right now—”

“Do you want me to cry, then?” he smirked, causing you to sigh. “I love the way your hair smells. It’s pretty too.” Managing to somehow keep your cool, and refrain from melting into a pool of milk (you did not like coffee, had never drunk tea. Milk was the only thing your body had, excluding water, you mused), you looked to Seokjin with a very intimidating face. It didn’t faze him.

“Stop acting like a creep. What do you want?” You quirked up a brow, curiosity increasing as the slight annoyance slowly locked itself away. You could never be really mad at Seokjin, sadly.

“So,” unwrapping his arm from yours, he pulled out his phone, “I made a Tinder account recently, and—”

“...You what?”

“I made a Tinder account! Get over it. So...” 

You watched him in silence as he opened the app, showing you the conversations he had with his matches, the very recent one only finished fifteen minutes ago—

As he came to you, just fifteen minutes ago. And here you thought he liked you. 

‘It’s just my own thinking.’

I want to cry when I feel this way,

Our feelings can’t become the same.

You’re really pathetic, you thought, biting down your lip so you wouldn’t break down crying right next to him. How do you be enough for him…?

“...And she’s the last girl I talked with. I really like her, do you think I should take her out? YN?” Seokjin frowned, waving his hand in front of you to catch your attention.

“YN-ah~!?” he exclaimed, making you blink at him in surprise. “Oh.” The cute frown on his face was the first thing you saw, bringing you back to reality. “What are you thinking about? The blog?” 

Unwillingly, you slowly brought yourself to nod. “...What were you asking?”

“I really like her. Should I take her out?”

She’s pretty. Really pretty. You could see her and Seokjin together. It made you happy. As happy as you could be, you added, blinking away the tears that suddenly made themselves known.

“Y-Yeah! Give it a try. I’m… I’m sure she’ll love it.”

You didn’t spend the night working on that blog. You spent it crying over someone you’d never have.

I love you so much. Why don’t you notice me? Try as you might, you hated this stupid little crush (you promised to yourself you’d never call it love), but it wasn’t as if you could stop it. Everyday, you’d wake up to his sleepy face, sweet little acts of affection, the cute pouts and laughs. Even that would change very soon. And you couldn’t stop that either.

What could you even do?

Even so, I could never hate you.

══════◄••❀••►══════

It’s two weeks later that Seokjin came back to your shared apartment, all down and pouty.

“What happened?” you asked, adjusting the space on the couch so he could sit comfortably next to you. Your laptop sat on your lap, as you typed away. 

“I messed up. She called me cocky.” 

You bit down on your lip, trying to hide your smile. “Oh, really now? Who would’ve guessed?”

“Shut up. I feel really sad right now.” He rested his head against your arm, pulling you closer. Pink dusted your cheeks, you felt light enough to float away but you tried your best to show you were unaffected.

Shining with light, it steals my gaze,

I want to hold it.

Putting your laptop down on the coffee table, you sank back on the seat, hands finding Seokjin’s soft hair. “It’s okay. There are… others who like you for who you are,” you said, smiling faintly as your fingers gently glided through his locks.

“You don’t think I’m cocky?”

“Nope. Not at all. I don’t think that you’re cocky, maybe sometimes a little too much to handle, but—”

“Hey!” Seeing that frown on his face, you became silent. “Mmm, well… If you want, we could watch a movie together. Try and cheer you up, yeah?”

“Yeah! Forget Tinder, I’ve got such a great friend like you.” 

Your shoulders drooped slightly at the last few words, but he didn’t pause to give you time to reply. Taking your laptop and opening another tab, he started typing, “I want to see that horror one a co-worker suggested a few days ago—”

Obviously, horror movies gave you the heebie-jeebies, but that didn’t stop Seokjin from putting on one before, and it wouldn’t that day, either. At least, you had an excuse to cling onto him for the night.

“I’m scared,” you said, blanket in hand. You had woken up at two in the morning, and too paranoid to go back to sleep, woke Seokjin up by knocking on his bedroom’s door. 

“Are you serious?” He didn’t seem annoyed, but instead raised a brow. 

“Yeah, what do you mean if I’m—”

“You’re a twenty-five year old adult, wearing her pajamas and asking for her roommate to sleep with her because she watched a horror movie and is too scared to sleep alone,” he rolled his eyes at the end, making you huff. “Well, we’re friends, consider this a sleepover, just lemme—”

“Argh, fine. Come in.”

“Can I, uhm, sleep in the bed?”

“You sleep on the floor.”

“What!?” you exclaimed, making Seokjin groan. “Nevermind. Get in the bed.”

At least you got to hug him as you tried to sleep. Keyword; tried. It was hard not to just admire his glowing features, or freak out over the fact that if you moved any closer, you could’ve kissed him. Your heart couldn’t slow down, instead racing faster and faster until all you could do was blink at him, wanting to tell him how much you liked him.

His heart, on the other hand, just a little way from you, was calm. You watched him as he breathed in, then out, and in again, only to breathe out once more at an even pace. Unlike you, who lost her breath every time she discovered a new thing to count about Seokjin.

How many times do you breathe in a minute?

How many eyelashes do you really have?

How the fuck are you so amazing?

It was another restless night, except this time, in the arms of someone you loved.

I want to try touching it,

you are just like this firefly.

══════◄••❀••►══════

It’s the weekend before you have to move on that coming Thursday. Incheon was a bustling city, Seokjin had told you, you’d enjoy it a lot more than you did here at Gwacheon. But you had been in this place since you were born, always loved the locals. The best point was that you knew the city like the back of your hand, exploring and blogging about your adventures.

If it wasn’t for the company that you wanted to work for, wanting you to work from their building itself, not from home, you wouldn’t have to leave everything behind. Both Gwacheon and Seokjin.

Though you had always wanted to work for them, so that was one good thing about it, you supposed. Besides, driving to work everyday from Gwacheon and taking about an hour to reach there and then driving yourself home for another hour? Too exhausting. 

You were eventually going to buy yourself a house anyway, as soon as you got enough money to buy one. Till then, you’d settle for an apartment at Incheon, a lot more convenient since it was closer to work.

That meant leaving Seokjin and Gwacheon was something you couldn’t change either way.

It still hurt. But that’s fine. You were going to be fine.

As a sort of farewell, you and Seokjin decided to go around and visit places on that weekend, since he had the two days off from work. You had been trying to keep your distance so as to not get attached even more, but that didn’t seem to work, because as much as you pulled away from Seokjin, he pulled you even closer.

Still.

A day out wouldn’t hurt, right?

“Gimme your ice cream,” Seokjin pouted. 

“Buy yourself another cone if you want, I’m not giving you mine,” you frowned, rolling your eyes as you licked it over, again. 

“How rude.” Saying so, Seokjin rushed over to the nearby ice cream parlor to buy himself some more.

You lied to yourself; this day was painful as hell.

“I want to buy you this necklace,” he said, pointing to the cute accessory at display right behind the glass. 

“That’s… I’d like that, actually.”

“But did you give me your ice cream?” He raised a brow, looking at you in a suspicious manner. 

“...No?” you squeaked, before watching a frown tug his plump lips down. 

“Then why should I buy you the necklace?”

“Aw c’mon!” You stomped on the ground, crossing your arms when you realised he wasn’t listening to you. Sighing, he shook his head as he came to the conclusion that you weren’t backing down. 

“Alright, you big baby, I’ll buy it for you.” Rolling his eyes, the two of you entered the shop, particularly you, excited.

Are you ready? I still want to look.

Are you ready? At that heart.

“Thanks for today,” you said, a little more quieter than usual. Maybe it was the blues of leaving your home. Not Gwacheon, but Seokjin— your real home.

“No problem,” he replied, smiling, no, not cockily, but sweetly; actually smiling. Flicking on the mp3 player once more as you drove the two of you home, or rather, to your apartment— because you were already home with Seokjin— you heard the same music playing as you had heard weeks ago.

I can’t tell how you feel. The more I want, the more it hurts.

Even so, I could never hate you.

You blushed a little, turning red. “I appreciate this a lot more than you think.”

“I know.”

“Thank you,” you repeated, smiling faintly as you looked down to glance at the necklace you were wearing, the one he bought you. 

“Thank you, YN.”

══════◄••❀••►══════

Thursday. It was the moving day. 

Part of you was excited for what was to come next, however overshadowed by the solemn feeling of leaving behind everything you know to work on your own. Especially Seokjin.

“Don’t forget to call me when you reach, okay?” 

You nodded to his words. The last of the boxes were being taken away by the truck, to be dropped off at the new flat. You could only hope for someone to help you get those boxes up to your room once you got there, because you definitely couldn’t carry those. It was only because of Seokjin that you had gotten those boxes outside from the current place.

“I—” Your voice failed you at that point.

You didn’t think about it. Only moved in to pull him close as you felt tears boiling in your eyes. He put his arms around you in return, running his hand over your back to calm you down. “I’ll miss you so so much,” you sniffed a little, never wanting to let go.

“Me too. I’ll miss you.”

He’d miss you. Somehow, the pain of parting felt a little more heavier then. 

‘It’s just my own thinking.’

I want to cry when I feel this way,

I want to know how you feel.

However strongly you held onto him, time would never let you say the words you wished you could to Seokjin. Taking in his features, his scent so you’d never be able to rid yourself of how beautiful he was; the one you loved. You wanted to hold on, tell him to never let go, maybe then, at least then, you could wake up to a new, bright morning with him next to you—

“...Promise me you’ll come back to visit?”

“I will. I promise. You too, okay?”

“I promise.”

══════◄••❀••►══════

August 19th. It was about 8 p.m. when your phone rang, and you had to look away from the computer. The office place was filled with the sound of distant conversations, papers being handled left and right.

You picked up your phone with a sigh, a little annoyed that it ruined your momentum.

It was Seokjin.

Your eyebrows knitted together in confusion. Why is he calling me? It hadn’t even been a full month since you moved out, was he simply that smitten by you? You had tried so hard, so hard to move on from him, and drowning yourself in work seemed to be the best way to get your mind off him. But now that he was calling you…

There was this sick feeling in your stomach that you couldn’t ignore, you weren’t sure if it was just your anxiety or something else, something bigger.

Regardless, you put the phone to your ear, your heart palpitations being the only sound you could hear.

Then came him panting. “YN, please— YN, help me,” he was on the verge of tears, you could tell. Your hand found the desk for support as you stood up, alarmed. “Jin, what happened?”

“I’m so sorry. I forgot to close the window, and I don’t know how, but some fucking man jumped into the apartment and he has a gun, I’m so fucking scared, YN, please—”

You took in sharp breaths, head zooming in and out consciousness, it seemed, as the world seemed to spin around you. “Jin, call the police.”

“I did. They aren’t here yet, they’ll take time, I’m so fucking scared right how, please help me.” 

You trembled, hearing him sob on the other side. You wished so bad that you could be there, to help him, keep him calm, hug him, just so nothing would—

The desperation in his voice left you panting.

“Where are you right now?”

“I’m in the bathroom, I’m hiding, but he has a gun, I locked the door, what do I do!? YN, please come and get me out of here, please—”

“I’m coming. Stay there.”

Saying so, you quickly grabbed your bag, and telling your manager about how you had a family emergency, left the building.

Getting into the car, your heart was racing at the speed of light. You weren’t sure what to do, it’d take about an hour and a half with this traffic to reach your old apartment. You weren’t even sure if you could drive in this state.

But you did it anyway. You’d do anything for Seokjin.

Dialing his number as you stopped at the red traffic signal, you knew what you were doing was bad, but you needed to know he was okay.

“Jin, are you okay!? I’m coming, please, stay there,” you waited hesitantly for a response, and then heard a hiccup. He usually started to hiccup when he cried. 

“P-Please get here quickly… The police still haven't come and I hear him in the living room, I really need you right now, please…”

“It’ll be okay. I’m coming.” It enraged you to know that the living room you shared with Seokjin, the one where you worked, the one you sat in watching movies together was now being checked by some burglar so he could steal things from there. But even so, every second that passed made you even more paranoid, since you kept wanting to make sure Seokjin was safe.

“Please don’t go out. Lock the door— I love you.” Your blood ran cold. Heart beating faster, as if that was possible, your world seemed like an illusion, zooming around in circles, almost as if someone casted a spell on you. You sighed shakily, your breath leaving you.

Why did you…? Stupid YN, you can’t tell him this, right now, you—

You shook your head. “I-I… I want you to be safe. Okay?” it was quiet on the line for a while, but you heard him hum in response. You sighed once again, body tense. “Please, take care... I love you.”

And saying so, with no more courage left within you, you ended the call.

══════◄••❀••►══════

You reached there about an hour later. Things are a blur from then. It all happened so fast, so suddenly…

You bite down your bottom lip, tears boiling in your eyes as you put on a song, starting the engine of your car.

I can’t hold it, I can’t reach it.

I can’t hold it, that heart of yours.

You remember the apartment being quiet after you entered, dark and silent. You didn’t have anything to protect yourself with, in case the intruder was still there, so you managed to get the frying pan from the kitchen without walking in on anyone.

Inspecting the whole apartment carefully, you concluded that the burglar had left.

But how did it continue? When did you two simply lose your minds to the point Seokjin had to be admitted to a hospital, to the point that you, despite seeing him laying in a pool of blood, could not lift a finger? 

You found him in the bathroom. 

‘It’s just my own thinking.’

He laid there, covered in the blood; the sight took your breath away. You were frozen, you were stuck in time until your breath returned, until your heart skipped a beat. You hastily took out your phone, tried calling for an ambulance. It was then the police finally managed to come, but it was too late.

You were all too late.

I want to cry when I feel this way.

The ambulance came. They took him to the hospital, you went with them. And then—

Our feelings can’t become the same.

They announced him dead. He wasn’t shot, the doctors explained. He had lost too much blood after he slipped and hit his head on the bathtub, they guessed, trying to get out of the bathroom.

It doesn’t matter. 

Nothing matters.

You died when he did. Home died when Seokjin did. You promised yourself you’d never call it love, but fuck, you love him. You love him so much. And you miss him, now that you are driving home from the hospital.

Tears brim your eyes as you look down at the necklace he bought you. It reminded you of your day out together, except… except he is gone. Gone, spirited away, whatever the hell people called it. He’s dead.

I want to hear you laugh, hear you chide me for eating too much.

I want to see you smile, see you pout.

I want to brush your hair, I want to hug you.

I want to tell you about how you’re my most favourite thing in the whole, entire world.

You hum along to the song he loved, the one he always played in your car.

I can’t tell how you feel. The more I want, the more it hurts.

Even so, I could never hate you.

You’re still not over it. Over the fact he died, that you won’t be able to hear his cute laugh anymore, or the way he winked at you everytime you made eye contact, or the promises that you had made together, now all broken because of him not… being here anymore.

And it hurts as if it is the end of the world. All of it hurt. How do you live without the only person you wanted to spend the rest of your life with? 

Did he even like you? You’ll never know. 

You could cry all you want, but he is gone. A part of you expects him to laugh about it, about how you’re crying over him, or for him to hug you, tell you it’s going to be okay.

But how can he do that? How do you tell him you love him more than anything else, that you want to see him laugh once more?

There’s so many words you wish you could’ve said. “I love you,” were only three of them. You could say you were driving home, but home resided with Seokjin.

There is this hollow feeling in your chest, eating you away as seconds slip by.

There once was a home that you shared with Seokjin. Perhaps, home was home because it had Seokjin. Now, there is none.

Hotaru.

[dyxnamicart]

my stupid highschool oneshot thing

look im not a writer, (I used to be when I was fourteen, haven’t done it since then so ya know, you dont use it you lose it lmao)

Anyways this has been highly requested that I post it, im a bit mad because its not exactly how I wish their dynamic was, I’m not great at writing banter (or anything i’m an artist now plewse) but ya know Also DISCLAIMER: This is a piece of fiction, it in no way reflects real life Dan and Phil (In fact my au switches up their personalities a fair bit) and do not tag them okAY P E O P L E They dont wanna see it and I dont want them to see it (Even if this isnt a particularly shippy piece lmao people are getting very angsty as of late) I also don’t have an editor so sorry for any mistakes  Anyway here ya go heathens 

Dan didn’t notice the opposing teams jock barrelling towards him, not until his leg had swept under his own, causing him to fly through the air, ball no longer in his possession. 

In fact it all flew by in a matter of seconds. Dan didn’t really have time to process exactly what was happening until he felt the shock of pain that travelled up his wrist and down his arm as he landed heavily onto it, crying out as he rolled once or twice before coming to a stop… He couldn’t really tell. There was a whistle blow, but the bustling around him seemed dull in comparison to the loudness of the pain in his wrist. 

He hissed as he was righted, pulled up and put steadily on his feet, being ushered to the benches, it only felt like five minutes before the game was back on course, bar Dan to be left on the sides, a few claps on the back from his teammates as he let his head come down from the spinning it was doing. 

The nurse on staff did a pretty shoddy job of bandaging, but to her credit she did ask if he wanted an ambulance. If his dad knew an ambulance was called because he hurt his wrist... he didn’t even want to imagine the searing look of disappointment he would receive. 

So he just declined. 

The game was one of the final ones of the season, they were playing against the local private school, which had a surprisingly amount of suspiciously beefed up kids, though with private school money Dan wasn’t surprised they probably had some ins with the law and extra ‘help’. 

He really wanted to play in the final, in fact his coach had even been considering him for the team, not that Dan was amazing at football, but he wasn’t the worst. He was passable at best, probably why his parents weren’t here right now to witness the semi, something he supposes he should be counting his lucky stars for now he had an injury as mediocre as a sprained wrist, but now there was a nagging pull in his gut of his own disappointment. 

He waited out the game on the bench, figuring he should at least be there for his team for the results, even with a sprained wrist he didn’t want to run away without at least talking to a few of his mates afterwards. 

-

Phil didn’t see the tumble. 

He was perched up in the bleachers, trying to ignore the way the mild and darkening sky had began to stew whipping winds that tore right through the threads in his sweater, by sketching insurmountable things he could see. 

He didn’t usually go to games, not only was it not his scene, but he would either end up insanely bored or find his eyes following Dan Howell’s god damn limber body. But this was the semis, and he totally wasn’t here to occasionally glance at a certain panting number 91, he at least wanted to show his support for the school. It wasn’t his fault this game was boring and his sketchbook looked far more inviting. 

He only looked up when there was a big murmur and gasps coming from the crowd around him, and he couldn’t see who it was at first, but there was a boy sprawled on the ground. 

It didn’t take long to figure out it was Dan, and his eyebrows furrowed deeply, closing his sketchbook and shoving it into his bag. He ended up walking down a few rows in the bleachers, just trying to see if the daft idiot was okay, and he sat down again much closer. The nurse did an awful job at bandaging his hand, he could see that from here, and he would have to fix it after the game. Well.. he didn’t have to, of course, but he figured Howell was too much of an airhead to fix it properly and as much as the other grated on him he at least wanted him to be comfortable. 

When it came to the end of the game, Phil’s school lost, and there was a brief celebration for the other school as they paraded off the field, while Dan’s team just huddled around to talk to the coach and then walk to the locker rooms, obviously trying to act casual even if they had essentially just been eliminated from the finals. 

Looking around, a lot of the families and students were milling out, many of them disappointed by the outcome of the game.  

This was their star team, and there had been a surprisingly large turnout for the event, to have it all end this anticlimactically felt a bit wrong, if he was being honest, even if sports definitely weren’t his thing. 

Phil headed down towards the locker rooms, some of the boys were already heading out, chatting and bumping into each other as they walked. Boys were talking, over half of them shirtless. He tried to avoid looking at them, while Phil had come to terms with his sexuality internally, he wasn’t out to his school, despite the obvious digs lots of the jocks and ‘cool kids’ would make. He wasn’t exactly subtle. 

Dan hadn’t noticed him, he was sitting on a bench and chatting to a teammate, but some of the boys closer to the entrance had. 

“Ay! It’s Danny’s little bitch, what’s new Lester?” A boy Phil knew as Jason laughed, throwing an arm around his shoulders, leaning heavily on him. 

Phil grunted, and shoved him off. “I’m not anyone’s bitch. Especially not Howell’s.” 

There was an ‘oo’ that rippled through the boys, and it was safe to say that Dan had noticed him. He furrowed his eyebrows, and stood up. 

“A teacher told me to help Dan.. carry his stuff with his hand like that.” He faltered off, because that half baked excuse really did make him sound like someone’s bitch. But by this point people were beginning to lose interest and ended up either packing up to leave or going back to chatting amongst themselves about a hot girl or something Phil honestly couldn’t care less about. 

Phil walked towards Dan, throwing on a mastered look of indifference and annoyance.

“What are you doing back here?” The brunette sighed deeply, running his good hand through his hair. “As if I don’t already get clowned on enough from seeing you during actual school hours.” He said dryly. 

Phil rolled his eyes. “I saw that sad excuse for a nurse ‘wrap’ your hand. I’ve seen children under the age of 4 wrap toilet paper around themselves better.” 

Dan groaned as he fell back to his sitting position on the bench. “Good deed Lester huh? You aren’t a guardian angel you know.” 

“Are you going to turn down actual help with that wrist, Howell. Seriously.” He dropped his bag on the ground, and knelt down, ignoring the few whistles he got from the people still in the room. 

Dan rolled his eyes as he looked down at Phil, arched eyebrow and holding his injured wrist with his hand, like he didn’t trust him. “Fine.” He sighed, setting his hand down on his leg, looking down at Phil with a suspicious and unless he was imagining it, flushed face. 

Phil carefully lifted the brunettes injured hand, frowning at the small pang of guilt he felt when Dan hissed in a sharp breath, quiet, as if being a little louder would shatter his reputation in one fell swoop. 

By now the locker room had basically emptied out, Dan’s mates sauntered away, hefting their heavy gym bags over their shoulders as their voices echoed down the hallway and slowly faded into the cool night air. 

Dan and Phil sat in silence for a few moments as Phil examined the bandage. Dan seemed to relax a little, and he allowed the feeling of calm to wash over them now there was no eyes examining their every move. The indifference and hostility seemed to drain from the air.

He didn’t know if it was the late night game or the lack of people, but he felt as though he was back before highschool, back before their fall out. Before their life became a series of quips and tension seeping into the fond memories he once had for the boy in front of him. 

“Why do you play, when you end up hurting yourself like this?” His question was genuine, none of the concealed fire that was usually behind his voice when he talked to Dan. 

Phil used his other hand to unroll the bandage. He had seen the first aid kit it came from, the contents being the single bandage, two band aids and a single cotton swab. Not the most ideal for a sport like this, hands on and physical, but their school wasn’t really known for their state of the art resources. 

Dan looked unsure of whether or not he should give a witty response or answer seriously. In the end he seemed too exhausted to spit out a clever one liner. So he opted for the truth. 

“I don’t know..” Dan huffed a breath out of his nose, like he was out of practice with talking about his emotions. “The guys are cool.. people like a jock you know?” He pauses for a moment, like he was struggling with whether or not he wanted to continue. “And I kind of want my dad to be proud of me? You know my dad. I want him to think.. I’m one of the lads. One of the boys.. not a royal screw up son.” He snorted, good hand rubbing the back of his neck like he was trying to play off his words as ridiculous. 

But Phil didn’t laugh. 

“Proud of you?” He repeated, slightly quieter as he slowly started to wind the bandage around Dan’s stiff wrist. 

Dan shrugged, looking away and seemingly focusing on a spot far across the room, like he was trying to be anywhere but here, talking to a friend who had been distanced by time and change. 

But Phil remembers, he remembers his curly brown hair bouncing around when he was excited, when he was jumping around playing cops and robbers, he remembers his loud and boisterous laugh and the way his cheeks dimpled and filled with colour. He remembers a time when he knew the boy in front of him more then he knew anyone in the world. When he thought Dan was his forever friend and that nothing would ever change that. 

Guess something changed. 

“You know I’m proud of you,” He continued, not looking up from bandaging. He could feel Dan’s eyes on him now, he could feel the incredulous and doubtful eyes bore into his skin, see into his soul. He didn’t seem to have expected an actual answer in response. “I’m proud of you when I see you play piano. When I see your eyes light up and when you lose yourself in the keys. When you recite dumb Shakespearen poetry and when you are on stage commanding the spotlight, when the only person who matters is you. That’s what I’m proud of. That’s what makes me think, THIS is Dan Howell. THIS is who he is meant to be. Not a shallow jock with a sharp tongue and attitude. I’m proud of the real you.”

He clipped the bandage pin on the end of the roll, now safely locked on Dan’s wrist, and he went to pull his hand away but was stopped by a hand placed over his. 

Dan’s eyes were how he remembered, not in way they were for the past two years, glazed over as he tried to cram his way into a puzzle he didn’t fit into, but filled with an unfathomable tenderness and something he couldn’t quite put his finger on 

They didn’t need to exchange words, the soft smile Dan gave him spoke a thousand words, making up for time that felt lost before now. 

He stood up, finally dropping Phil’s hand and grabbing his jacket off the bench. “Come on, I’ll walk you home.” 

-

Their silence was welcoming as they walked down the hall towards the exit. The last few years had been full of quips and jabs, fast insults and banter that sometimes toed the line as not quite friendly. This silence, it was new, but it felt right. Dan couldn’t quite understand, but there was a shift that felt comfortable. 

Dan had known Phil a long time, longer then anyone in this god forsaken school. He was quiet and reserved and he enjoyed painting and drawing. He was creative, and he didn’t care what people thought of him. He was unapologetically himself, and that was something that he only wished he could be. 

For the longest time it was him and Phil. Dan and Phil against the world, playing Mario cart and watching shitty movies, always at each other’s houses like they belonged together. 

Then high school happened.

The desire to fit in hit Dan like a ton of bricks. While Phil was content to remain a Mario kart loving geek, Dan couldn’t stand being the butt of the joke. He couldn’t stand his dad being disappointed whenever he brought Phil home to do something nerdy. As the years went by it became a sort of crutch for him and Phil to make snide remarks at each other as they passed in the halls, glaring across the halls and that’s how it stayed. 

Don’t get him wrong, he loved to see Phil riled up. He loved to see his eyebrows furrow together and his eyes roll. His arms crossed and his posture unimpressed. If anything that was his favourite part, the way his voice flooded with heat and passion, as he stared at him with the intensity of a bonfire. He loved to tease him and play his surprisingly short temper like a fiddle.

But he wasn’t attracted to him. No way. Phil wasn’t a pretty girl. He did NOT find his eyes pretty and the way his hair sometimes fell into his eyes and his hands didn’t itch to run his hands through it. 

He was straight. He had to be. 

His heart dropped a little, and he couldn’t explain why, but he looked over at Phil, who was walking beside him. 

They were outside now, and it was raining, not too heavily but enough to get you fairly wet. Despite the fact Phil was wearing a sweater and long overalls, he could see him shiver, the fabric of the sweater probably allowed the biting wind to nip tight through it.

He shrugged off his jacket, and gently wrapped it around Phil’s shoulders, forcing them to stop momentarily. The street light cast a soft light over them, and his eyes met the other boys, and for a moment they stared at each other, Dan watching as raindrop followed the contours of Phil’s face, a drop following his cheekbone and the slope of his jaw. 

He coughed, rubbing the back of his neck again as he started walking. “Okay okay, lets get you home, Lester.” 

“Are you sure you aren’t cold?” Phil enquires inquisitively as he sped walked a bit to catch up with him. 

He shrugged. “Still running on adrenaline I guess.” It was a lie, he was slightly cold. But it felt right, and he continued to walk with him in silence. 

Phil was holding the jacket around himself as they approached his house, and they stopped just under the porch, the light flickering on to illuminate his face. 

Dan stuffed his good hand in his pocket, and he clicked his tongue as Phil went to shrug off the jacket to give back. “Nah, wash it first, don’t want your nerd germs on my clothes.” Despite the insult, he found himself smiling warmly, and Phil too just chuckled. 

“Alright, I’ll give it to you on Monday or something, Howell.” 

Dan saluted as he turned to walk away, and he could feel Phil staring through his back as he walked back into the rain. They were only a street apart, but he knew that was going to be one long walk. 

[everlastingdreams]

Lucifer Morningstar x Reader : Invidia   Chapter 1

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Notes: Please know that I haven’t watched season 3 or 4 yet. It’s 4am here so sorry if there’s a mistake. Let me know what you think :) 

Summary:  Maze sends you on a date with another guy to help you forget about your feelings for Lucifer. Lucifer soon starts to act stranger than usual.

Chapter: 1/4

Trigger Warning: None I think.

Word Count:  1973 words

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

After he had called you, requesting help with a case he and Detective Decker were trying to solve, you had droven all the way to Lux in the crappy weather. He had given you approximately five minutes of his attention before his eyes had wandered off to some women on the dancefloor. He had excused himself, said he would be back in a minute. But you knew Lucifer by now, you knew that 'minute' would be way longer then 60 seconds. You sighed as you rested your elbows on the bar, tearing your eyes away from Lucifer surrounded by a mob of beautiful women all trying to get his attention. You couldn't blame them, Lucifer was incredibly attractive and that worked like a magnet on both men and women. It definitely worked on you. Sadly you had no such luck getting his attention unless it involved police work. Sure he had flirted with you when you two met but you knew him. You knew it was how he was around everyone he found interesting. You had brushed him off, mostly because you had only just met him and you wanted to be professional. Later you brushed his flirting away, accepted that it was just how he communicated. You two had started to spend more time together, he often helped you out with your own cases. Brought you to Lux, where you had met Maze. Showed up at your doorstep either early in the morning, when you were still wearing your PJ's and bed head. Or late in the evening, when you were tired as hell after a long day. Needless to say, none of those moments were flattering. Somewhere in those moments you caught yourself falling for him. The sight of him was enough to make a smile grow on your face. Sure he was handsome, but it was the moment he started to open up about his past, his family issues.. that really drew you in. He never lied to you even if the truth was rough. You knew he really was the actual devil, he had looked at you with fear in his eyes as if you were going to run away from the piano you were sitting at with him. You just listened to him as he told his story. That was the day you truly fell for him. He still flirted with you, it was harder to try not to blush when he did. You just laughed awkwardly and ignored it. But on the inside it was killing you, your feelings for him had continued to grow and now his casual flirting was becoming painful for you. You didn't want 'casual', you wished he would feel the same way about you as you felt about him. But you knew that Lucifer was....Lucifer. You didn't have the guts to tell him how you felt, you feared it would change everything and the last thing you wanted to lose was your friendship. So you sucked it up and locked your feelings away. And to be able to do that you had tried to avoid seeing him outside of work lately. And even when you worked on a case you tried to keep the focus on the case. Turning down his usual invitations to grab a drink at Lux. You just couldn't deal with being around him while you worked through your issue. You were here tonight because he needed some information about a case and that was what you talked about. You glanced in his direction again, some of the women were dancing seductively around him. You snapped your eyes away from them. A glass was pushed in front of you and you looked up at Maze who was looking at you with a knowing look. You shook your head as you pushed the glass in her direction again “I didn't order anything-” “Yeah, I know. You look like you need it.” she tilted her head in your direction as she pushed the glass to you again “On the house.” You let out a sigh before you took the glass in your hand “Thanks Maze. At least someone noticed me.” She poured out a glass for herself as well and raised it up a little as she leaned on the bar close to you “Cheers.” “Cheers.” you replied and took a big swig from the drink. She raised her brows and let out a chuckle “Wauw. Crappy day, huh ?” You scoffed quietly “More like crappy evening.” Her eyes wandered to the dancefloor before she looked back to you “ I hope your talking about Lucifer and those chicks and not me.” You let out a chuckle, placing the glass back down “You know you are the light in my life Maze.” you said sarcastically. She rolled her eyes trying to hide the smile growing on her face “I probably should have given you something with less alcohol.” “Like you would do that.” you smirked at her. She gave a nod “Look, maybe you should just tell him. I mean, he's been going soft for a while now.” she pulled a disgusted face and you swallowed your laugh because she was serious “ Maybe even the devil himself is able to get.... feelings.” You tried not to laugh at the way she seemed uncomfortable at Lucifer being more human “This is hard for you isn't it ?” She groaned “I am only telling you this because I like you. Well I like you better then one of them..” she tilted her head in the direction of the dancefloor again. “And at least I wouldn't have to deal with the women anymore after they are finished with-” “Okay. Okay. Too much information.” you stopped her from finishing the sentence. “But I can't tell him Maze. He'll start acting weird if he would know. You know how he is.” She let out a deep breath “I am not going to be stuck watching you looking at him longingly then.” she tapped her fingers on the bar for a moment before she pulled out her phone “If you're not going to tell him and just ignore him, then maybe I have an idea.” she smirked as her eyes were glued on her phone. You furrowed your brows “Uuuh.. Maze ?” “Mhm.” she hummed as she kept her eyes on the screen. “What kind of idea are you talking about ?” you watched as a grin now appeared on her face. She held up the phone in your direction now and motioned for you to look at the screen. There was a picture of a guy, clearly taken at Lux. Your eyes went from the screen to Maze a few times before it clicked, your eyes widened “No. No way. Maze I-” “Too late. He's picking you up tomorrow night.” she explained, clearly enjoying your reaction. “You gave him my address ?! Maze I'm not going on a date with a guy I never even met before !” you were terrified at the thought. She just rolled her eyes “Relax. It's just a date at a restaurant. All in public, if you don't like him just call me or text me and I'll come to your rescue.” You groaned in annoyance “Damnit. Alright fine ! But he'd better not be a serial killer.” She scoffed “Yeah. You mean like the ones you hunt down pretty much every day ?” You opened your mouth but couldn't find a witty reply. She was right, you had worked on enough murder cases. “He's sweet. That's why I'm setting you up with him. Too nice for me.” She took a sip of her drink. “That's a relief at least.” you sighed in defeat as you drank some more “What's his name ?” “Mike. He's a lawyer.” the corner of her mouth twitched. You nodded and looked at the dancefloor one more time, seeing how Lucifer had an arm around the waist of one of the women. “I guess I'll be seeing my lawyer then.” you smirked at Maze earning a wide grin from her. What harm could it do ?

OoO oOOOOO OO oOooOOOoOOOo o o Oo o o o oOO Oo  o OO oO oo oooOoO oooooooo

Picking clothes out for a date wasn't one of your best qualities. You hadn't met the guy yet but you kept an open mind and maybe it could be something. A real something, not a secret crush on your friend. You held two outfits in your hands, both hanging on their clothes hangers as you held them in front of you while checking yourself out in the mirror. You threw your head back and groaned. You didn't know what to wear, it had been a long time since you had actually been on a date. The long days at work were to blame for that. You put the clothes down on your bed as you digged in your wardrobe again. The doorbell rang and you bumped your head against one of the shelves when the sound suprised you. This evening had started of well. You rubbed your head while you walked to your front door. You had expected it to be Maze, it would not have suprised you. You opened the door and your eyes were met with but all too familiar brown ones. Not who you were expecting. “Lucifer ? Hey. I wasn't expecting you today.” not when you were getting ready for a date with another guy to forget him. "Hello, (y/n). I was wondering if you had vanished from the face of the earth." it was a lighthearted comment. You avoided his gaze. It hadn't been easy avoiding Lucifer, but you had to do it. Seeing him flirt with beautiful women sure as hell made a dent on your self esteem. "Lucifer.. sorry.. I've just been really busy." You didn't want to hurt his feelings. It wasn't his fault that you had feelings for him that he could not return. "Oh, I see." He looked at you like a kicked puppy before his eyes fell to your hands "What's that ?" You looked at your hand, realising you still had the dress in your hand that you were going to try on. "It's a dress. I uhm... I'm planning my outfit for tonight." the words fell from your lips, too fast to stop them. A smile grew on his face again as his eyes sparkled with mischief "Oh ! We're going to a party then ?" This was going to be awkward to explain to him. "No, not a party. I-" you started but Lucifer interupted "OH ! A ball then ? It's been a while since I've done one of those." he got more enthusiastic. You bit your lip “No, Lucifer... I have a date tonight.” “A date ?” he looked at you as if you just told him you could turn water into wine. You were a bit insulted at his reaction “Yes.. Date. I am going on a date. Tonight.” He stared at you for a second before he snapped out of it “Oh.. I see.” “So, I am sorry, Lucifer, but I need to get ready for tonight.” as much as it hurted you, you wanted him to leave. You wanted to focus on the date and it would be hard if Lucifer was in your thoughts. His usual smirk found it's way back again and he brushed past you as he walked inside your house. You closed your eyes and sighed before turning around to face him. “Who is it ? Do I know him ?” Lucifer asked as he poured out some fresh orange juice you had made in a glass. “Make yourself at home.” you said sarcastically at his lack of manners. “I will, thank you.” he didn't get the hint.

[cecilspeaks]

153 - The Heist, part 1

Constellations are fan art depicting ancient gods.   Welcome to Night Vale.

I’ve said many times that science is neat. But sometimes it is also messy. Carlos converted one of our guest rooms into a laboratory so he can spend more time at home and get some needed renovations done on his laboratory downtown. Which seemed like a great idea, until I realized that it’s impossible to contain chemical odors and stains from getting all over the rest of the house. Not only did acid eat through our new Egyptian-tiled backsplash, but also a petri dish grew feet and walked outside, only to walk back inside tracking mud all over my new handwoven Svitzian rug. The last straw was when Carlos stained all of his shirt sleeves, not to mention his hands and, somehow, even the (cords) countertops a dull green, which completely threw off my kitchen color palette. I told Carlos he had to stop, but he insisted he had made a major breakthrough in his doorless fridge invention. “Cecil, this is so exciting,” he said, bouncing up and down like a child who wants a toy or needs to pee. “The problem with refrigerators is the door. In order to put food in or take food out, you have to open the door, and that’s totally  bad because it lets all the cool air out, raising the temperature of the other food inside. I told him that’s not that big of a problem, but his face darkened and he said, “Baking is an exact science, Cecil. If the butter is off my a couple of degrees, my croissants are ruined.”

I understood, but I asked that he find another place to conduct that particular experiment. He’s turning everything in our home a dull green, including his own skin. Fortunately, my sister Abby and her husband Steve Carlsberg just bought a new house. Ever since his promotion to vice president of the Last Bank of Night Vale, Steve has been saving up to buy a larger home for his family, one with a yard for dogs, no stairs and wider doors for his daughter Janice’s wheelchair, and even his own man cave, where he can raise bats and cultivate rare crystals. And they finally closed on their dream home this summer. They bought Janice a car too, complete with accessible hand controls, a state of the art sound system, and a moon roof that closes automatically at night so you never have to see that awful moon. Anyway, there is also a giant empty storage shed out back of their new home, and Steve and Abby told Carlos he can work in the shed until his laboratory downtown is ready to use again. So far, it sounds like everything is working out fine for Carlos, although he did accidentally leave a large green handprint on Janice’s new car. The good news is, she thought it looked really cool, so she decided to leave it.

Listeners, I’m getting word that there’s a robbery taking place in downtown Night Vale. Three people have entered the Last Bank of Night Vale and are demanding money from the tellers. The robbers are wearing masks of former US presidents Richard Nixon, William Henry Harrison, and Emma Goldman. The Sheriff’s Secret Police, as well as the Sheriff’s Overt Police, are on the scene but the perpetrators have begun to take hostages and the police are trying to negotiate. The robbers have not stated any demands yet, so the police are left to guess what they want. One officer suggested giving them a million dollars, which was (-) [0:05:52] accepted by the fellow officers as a great idea. Because, while human lives cannot be distilled down to a monetary value, a million dollars is pretty cool. But this idea was shot down by Sheriff Sam, who pointed out that the department does not have a million dollars. “What if we got them a puppy?” another officer offered up. “My basset just had a litter and I thought we’d be able to sell them, but it’s definitely a buyer’s market out there for hounds,” the officer continued. “Anyway I’ve got a brown one with white spots and two white ones with brown stops. I’ve named the Chutney, Footstool and Bob Ross. Footstool is the runt, let’s give them Footstool.” “We’re not giving them puppies,” Sheriff Sam shouted. “Oo, what about an Applebee’s gift card?” another officer said. “Worth a million dollars.” “Or a coupon book for free favors,” another said, “like repainting the guest room or raking leaves or – oh, wait, we’re the police right? A free crime day! They, they could use that coupon today, and we don’t have to arrest them and file all the paperwork, and the hostages get to go free. We could even have a coupon for a 15 minute backrub.”

All of the officers clapped for this idea, not just a win-win but a win-win-win, for the hostages, the robbers and the police. All except Sheriff Sam, who silenced them all with a loud whistle. More like a pan flute, really. It’s an enchanted whistle that causes vocal cords to stop working. “We are police,” the Sheriff scolded. “It is clearly stated in our oath of office to never give backrubs to bank robbers.” They then set to work trying to devise a plan to stop the robbery and free the hostages in the bank. Oh dear. Uh, listeners, I was just talking about my brother-in-law Steve, and here comes this terrible news. Um, I have no further information about Steve’s condition right now, nor the other citizens who are being held at gunpoint inside the bank. I will update you as events progress.

In the meantime, let’s go to sports. The Night Vale high school Scorpions opened their season this Friday against the Whispering Forest Wood Dogs. Scorpion’s head coach Latrice Beaumont said this will be a tough match up. The Wood Dogs, a team entirely comprised of trees, are roundly regarded as one of the toughest defenses in the state, with their tactic of whispering compliments to opposing players, until those players themselves turn into trees. Last season, Whispering Forest dealt to Night Vale its only loss, as nine of the Scorpions starting offensive players, including quarterback Junius Duncan, were won over by the Wood Dogs’ pleasant cooing. By the end of the game, the field was covered in trees, many of them former Night Vale high school student athletes. And Whispering Forest snuck out with a 3-to nothing win on the late field goal, that was somehow kicked by a tree. Coach Beaumont says she plans to give her players ear plugs to help dampen the whispers from the Wood Dogs’ defense. She also has uglied up the Scorpions’ uniforms adding mustard yellow and hot pink argyle atop the dark purple jerseys, hoping that the arborial defenders will find little good to say. The Scorpions are starting a new quarterback this season, sophomore (phenome) [0:09:20] Julie Dobbs, who won the job because of her prophetic dreams. Her slumbering subconscious is able to see the future, most notably other teams’ defensive strategies. She also uses her dream journals to develop a nearly unstoppable offensive game plan. She also owns her own football, which was a huge plus for the coaches. Good luck this weekend, Scorpions! We’re pulling for you.

I now have the names of the hostages being hold at the Last Bank of Night Vale. Jesse McNeil, a security guard who has worked at the bank for nearly 50 years, oh Jesse. What a sweet old man. He says hi to me every time I go there, always has a smile and a compliment. Why, just the other day he said to me, “Heard you on the radio, Cecil, and I was beaming with pride.” Another hostage, bank teller Genevieve Daly, who started at the bank this week. Oh Genevieve, what a tough break. Just now that we’re pulling for you. Bank customer and dinosaur expert Joel Isenberg. Oh Joel, I know Joel! He’s such a smart guy. And the last of the hostages: staff supervisor of the bank, Susan Willman. OK well, tough.

Unfortunately, after several grueling minutes, negotiations between the sheriff and the robbers have broken down. So the police have decided that the only way to break the stalemate is with physical force. While this makes sense in chess, I don’t know if this is such a good idea for hostage negotiations, listeners. But the police have advanced into the building to engage the thieves directly.

Witnesses reported hearing several gunshots, but they said the noises could also be fireworks, part of the day long celebration of Lee Marvin’s 31st birthday, which was back in June. Oh. Happy late birthday, Mr. Marvin. You don’t look a day over 30.

We cannot see inside the bank and no one has emerged yet. I will have to report back later as soon as I have – oh no wait, wait. I’ve been told that the bank is on fire now. The west wall of the bank is engulfed in flames and the Night Vale fire department is already on the scene. They are shouting at the fire to stop being such a nuisance, but the fire does not appear to be listening.

Oh, this isn’t good. And even more frightening for me, I did not see Steve Carlsber’s name on the list of hostages. Abby told me he was at work today, but why was he not taken hostage? I can only hope he had gone to lunch when the robbery began. Steve, if you hear this and you’re at lunch, don’t go back to work, it’s on fire. I feel so powerless. All I can do is hope And bring you the weather.

[My Friend” by Dominique Chantel Worthing with Barrett Ward, https://soundcloud.com/dominique-worthing ]

First, the good news. The hostages have been freed. Inside the bank, the police drew their weapons on the robbers, but could not get off a clean shot because of the hostages blocking their line of fire. The robbers fired back, forcing the police to retreat behind a Coinstar machine and a full sized promotional cardboard cutout featuring a hooded man, his jagged smile just barely visible in shadow, holding a raw slab of red meat with the bold tex below him reading: “Great mortgage rates are inside of you”. But the second wave of officers blocked the thieves’ escape from the front entrance. Then, and Sheriff Sam did not see how this happened, but a fire began in the bank lobby. It spread quickly and the room filled with smoke. In the confusion, the hostages broke free from their captors and the robbers ran from the police. Fire engines sprayed water and broadcasted loud admonishments at the fire to knock it off already.

Susan, Joel, Genevieve and Jesse ran out into the street covering their faces, choking on the black air. As Jesse emerged, his 75-year-old body was knocked backwards by one of he fire engines’ hoses. Jesse was soak head to foot. The firefighters apologized, but Jesse merely brushed himself off and then generously complimented their work by saying, “I see you’re fighting a fire.” What a gentleman. The three perpetrators of the bank robbery also fled through the front of the building, but the police quickly halted and arrested them. As the fire finally subsided, amidst the damp charred masonry and broken glass, came another figure. Steve Carlsberg emerged from the bank, sweating and limping, but safe. An ambulance arrived to take the survivors to the hospital, but they all declined, except Steve who had a broken foot and gladly took the EMTs up on their offer. The bank robbers were transported to the abandoned mine shaft outside of town for questioning. It’s an open and shut case. The bad people lose and the good people win, and every single person, even the people who own Applebee’s, is glad no one had to purchase a one million dollar Applebee’s gift card. My brother-in-law is safe, as are his employees and customers. No one died and not a single dollar was taken from the bank registers at the front counter, nor the ATMs, nor the Coinstar. Even the fire didn’t damage those bills.

That was the good news. The bad news: as the police did a final sweep of the bank, searching for anyone else inside, whether they be customers or criminals, they reached the bank’s vault in the back of the building. Before he left the hospital, the police asked Steve Carlsberg to open the vault for them. “We’re sure everything’s fine, “they said. “It’s routine in a bank robbery,” they said. “I understand,” Steve said. He opened the vault, they looked inside, and they saw nothing. Millions of dollars in bills and gold were gone. Sheriff Sam said there’s a conspiracy here, and they’re going to really put the screws to the people they arrested. “No HBO until they explain where the money from the vault,” the Sheriff declared. And that’s a big deal, because a black lady’s sketch show just premiered last month and is crazy good. The Sheriff said they have no clues yet as to where the money in the vault went, but they did discover the robbers’ names are Richard, William, and Emma. Which is interesting because those are the names of the presidents whose masks they wore. “I don’t think that’s a coincidence,” the Sheriff said confidently. The bank lost a great deal of money today and some innocent people lost their sense of comfort, but we are all still alive. At least those in this story are, and I’m so happy to know my brother-in-law is safe, as are Jesse and Joel and Genevieve, whom I’ve never even met. I’m glad those specific people are OK as well as anyone else who was taken hostage today.

Stay tuned next for an unedited recording from two years ago of you talking to a kitten. You sound ridiculous.

Good night, Night Vale, Good night.

Today’s proverb: Don’t go writing metaphors. Please stick to the similes and literal descriptions that you’re used to.

[msjr0119]

Why me?

Part 5- Surprise!

Riley is forced out of Cordonia unknowingly to her friends, and moves back to New York.

She is later faced with her past from Cordonia and is hiding a few new secrets. With the help from her New York friends and friends from Cordonia will she escape her current situation and find her happy ever after?

Tags- @burnsoslow @drakesensworld @ladyangel70 @kingliam2019 @bbrandy2002 @choiceslover-24-7 @butindeed @bascmve01 @drakewalker04 @pedudley @captain-kingliamsqueen @duchessemersynwalker @kennaxval @larryssunflower @insideamirage @carabeth @of-course-i-went-to-hartfeld

Some Quotes belong to Pixelberry from TRR*

********

Riley woke up late the next morning, the sun was blinding through the window. Her head was spinning. She rolled over to see him, but he wasn’t there. How could she be so stupid? Feeling like she used him herself, the guilt filled her head, it was just to get over her feelings for another man.

After showering, Riley decided to style her hair and do her make up. As she went over to her dresser she saw a note...

Morning beautiful.

Thank you for last night, I had a good time. I needed to leave for work and didn’t want to wake sleeping beauty up. I have to go to Boston tonight for a meeting tomorrow. When I come back, I’d like to take you out on a date if you want?

Just let me know.

Nate x

*******

Everyone in the palace, did their usual routine since the attack. They all had breakfast together waiting for any updates about the attack. This morning was different though, as King Liam was leaving to go to Dubai for a week, the itinerary full of meetings.

“Does anyone know where Bertrand and Maxwell are this morning? I wanted to speak to Bertrand regarding the council meeting tomorrow that I will unfortunately be missing.”

Liam looked at everyone- no one was speaking, just before Olivia responded.

“As I arrived at the palace. They were leaving. Said they had a meeting regarding their house and money issues. They seemed pretty upbeat though to say they should drowning in sorrow.”

“Okay. I’ll try and get a hold of Bertrand. Olivia, could you please update me on the council meeting. Then on my return, myself, Drake and Bastien will go to New York to try and speak to Lady Riley... if we can find her.”

*********

Of course the Beaumont brothers had admitted during the social season that Riley was a chance of restoring their houses reputation and with her leaving abruptly the story made sense- making nobody doubt it.

The Beaumont brothers arrived at Cordonia International airport, and awaited their flight.

“Bertrand, thank you for agreeing to this. She reached out to me of all people. I know Liam is going to go mental, and Drake will probably bury me alive if they knew.”

“Maxwell, she is like a sister to me, and I assume to you too. But no one must know where we are heading...”

“Wahooo... team Beaumont! The secrets safe with me......”

*******

Riley wasn’t due at work until later that night, and didn’t know what to do with herself. Nate had gone away overnight, Daniel and Lola we’re both at work. Desperately, she tried to keep busy, attempting to stop thinking about all her friends she had left, giving up on them because of one person having an vendetta against her.

She decided to go out for a bit. She pulled her hair into a ponytail, wiped the make up off and got dressed in a sports top and leggings, heading towards the subway to go to Central Park. For hours she jogged around, feeling unfit compared to what she used to be like, until finally collapsing on a bench. Her phone began to ring.

“Hey, where are you doll?”

“Lola, I think I’m dying in Central Park. I can’t run as good as I used to. I’m sweating, I’m so red, I need more oxygen! It’s never affected me before. I feel exhausted all the time. What you up to?”

“Well...... work has offered me a two day trip to California. So I thought you, me and Daniel could go clubbing tonight before I leave? And the Knight in shining armour can join if he wants?”

“Well, my knight is in Boston. But yeah sounds good. I’ll meet you after work at Kismet?”

Slowly getting up, feeling cramp run through her body, Riley decided to head back to the appartment doing a de tour via the Dive Bar.

*****

Riley stumbled through the door of the Dive Bar, and dragged herself up to the bar.

“Daniel! I need something strong! This damn cramp!”

“You better get well for tonight! Lola intends on it to get messy!”

“Uhh, I’ve got to get through a shift first.”

They both chatted, already dreading the hangovers they were going to have tomorrow. Lola was the kind of friend who would hold your hair when your head lingered over the toilet whilst projectile vomiting after too much alcohol consumption. But it was her fault you would get in that vulnerable state as she was the kind of friend who never excepted the answer “no” when it came to a night out on the town. Riley had had a few too many drinks and needed to sober up before work.

She said goodbye to Daniel and was about to leave when she thought she was hallucinating...

“Waitress steaks for the table.”

She turned around, and saw him- almost believing this was a dream.

“The closest thing we have to filet mignon is the deluxe burger”

Riley responded, remembering what she said to them that night, the pure disappointment on Tariq’s face.

“We’ll be fine with a bottle of whiskey .... and four deluxe burgers.”

They both said in unison, before both giggling and hugging each other.

“Little blossom!”

“Max! What are you doing here? Oo god. Who are you here with?”

“Ri, don’t worry it’s just me and Bertrand. He’s at the hotel checking up on emails and the boring noble things. I had to come and see you. You hung up on me!”

“Technically I hung up on Drake. Just hearing his voice gave me the closure I needed from Cordonia.”

“Closure? What do you mean? We want you to come back! We all miss you. Even Olivia, and that’s really saying something!”

When Maxwell said this, Riley’s heart slowly broke into tiny pieces. He deserves the truth she thought.

“Oo Max. I’m really sorry I never said goodbye. I’m due at work in two hours. Come along with me if your free and we can catch up?”

*****

Riley took Maxwell to the apartment in Inwood.

“Welcome to Daniel’s crib, it’s not much. The rent is so expensive everywhere in New York. Make yourself at home. I won’t be long.”

Riley went to get dressed into her uniform. The uniform consisted of a cropped top and shorts. At times she was grateful for this as it got too warm behind the bar.

Maxwell looked around admiring the apartment. It was small, but had a large open-spaced lounge area. He was eager to speak to Riley, to ask why she left abruptly but didn’t want to force it. In the back of his mind, the thought of her mentioning Constantine was still lingering. They didn’t have a close relationship due to him being the reason for why all the drama occurred, so why would he be mentioned by Riley? He could see the panic on her face when she asked who he had come all this way with.

“So....” Maxwell said nervously rubbing his the back of his head. Riley interrupted before he could continue.

“Max, I should have never come to Cordonia. This is home. This is who I am. I’ve broken too many hearts, and my heart is breaking every time I think about you all and Cordonia..... if it wasn’t for that night.... I wouldn’t have been blamed. I wouldn’t have left you all. King Father... he... he... hurt me, blackmailed me. I was scared. I was scared for you all. The truth is Max, I left to save Drake’s life. And for the safety of you all. I will always treasure the memories with each and everyone of you. But parts of the last few months were the biggest mistake of my life- I hurt you all. I am trying to move on and rebuild my life again.”

“Ri, we don’t blame you. Everyone misses you. Besides who is going to smash the champagne open in the most unique ways with me at the Beaumont Bashes? We bossed it! You and I - the A team!”

“Max I’m so sorry. It doesn’t matter what everyone thinks! King Father hurt me and exiled me, demanding for me to never return! That is it. I left with my heart shattered. And as long as that man is still alive I can’t return even if I wanted to...”

[hurt-care]

Behind the Scenes

So, @salamanderskin and I had the pleasure of writing together again for the first time in ages! This one features her OC, Frank, who you can read about here and my new OC, Hugh. This is set in England in the late 1940s, post-war. Enjoy!

----

The end of another show. The cast filtered back into the dressing rooms to change, chorus dancers stretched out muscles, musicians wrestled instruments back into cases and the magician's glamorous assistant worked cold-cream into her stubborn stage makeup. Most of the Cabaret cast were keen to leave and find a pint at the bar while it was still serving. Soon enough, backstage was nearly empty, the lights dimmed and costumes folded more or less neatly away for the matinee the next day. Only one performer was left, leaning against a counter with his head propped on his arms. His dark hair had enough gel to hold it in position despite his angle, still in a smooth side-parting away from a handsome, good-natured face. Frank Westmore, fast asleep.

Hugh Morris pushed the dressing room door open with his hip, arms full with a bucket, mop, and rags. Whistling quietly to himself, he set down the bucket and sloshed the mop in. The deserted dressing room glowed softly under the vanity light bulbs surrounding the varied mirrors. Pausing to check his reflection in the glass, Hugh suddenly felt the rush of startled fear as he saw the man on the opposite corner of the room.

The mop clattered out of the bucket, spilling the water onto the tiled floor. Hugh spun around, his heart racing.

“Oh my god, sir, I’m sorry,” he stammered, rushing to gather the mop and bucket. “I thought you was a ghost for a moment. They said everyone had gone and it was alright to start the cleaning. And they told me the theatre was haunted, but then again, aren’t all theatres haunted? S’what I’ve heard, anyhow.”

“Hmm?” The ghost in question raised his head, holding a hand in front of his eyes against the light. He shook his head groggily. It took a good few seconds to establish where he was, then he offered Hugh a disarming smile.

“I- no- it’s just me. Is it late?” His words were interrupted by ticklish cough smothered against his shoulder.

“Half-past ten,” Hugh said, consulting his watch. “The others haven’t been gone too long. I heard a few of ‘em discussing going down to the club around the corner. But I don’t know who they were. I just started last week and this is my first shift after a show.”

He stepped forward, extending his hand towards Frank.

“Hugh Morris,” he said with practiced politeness that seemed stuffy coming from his otherwise rather bohemian air. His trousers were a size too large and slouched on his thin hips, cinched with a belt. And the auburn hair that framed a lightly-freckled face was a touch too long and it curled around his ears and at the nape of his neck.

The other man rose and shook hands. “Frank.” He looked Hugh up and down. The man looked like he would fit in at the theatre just fine. Was it really half ten already? He thought he’d only laid his head down for a few moments. Speaking made him cough again and he had to clear his throat before continuing.

“How are you liking it so far? Did you see any of the show?”

“Only the last bit with the magician,” Hugh replied, taking up the fallen mop and leaning on it. “But it seems like a nice spot. I just moved into town to help out my uncle but his business is a bit...well, a bit conservative for my tastes. I figured I’d find more of my sort of people here and I like to keep busy, so the night shift suits me fine. I’d like to be a stagehand, really, but they had a spot for a cleaner. That’s alright though; I’ve worked pretty much every job under the sun.”

“What about you?” he asked. “How long have you been here? You’re a performer?”

“Dance in the chorus.” Frank explained. “It’s a pretty good gig, you’ll soon find your feet. It’s my first season and everyone welcomed me in straight away. Here, let me move my stuff and you can talk and mop, or we’ll be here all night.”

He gathered his waistcoat and jacket from the the floor at his feet and returned them to his hanger. Then without further warning and no shame at all, he unbuttoned removed his shirt and hung that up too. He turned to rummage for his street clothes with only his undershirt on, rubbing his upper arms for warmth. As he bent over into his bag his shoulder shuddered in a sudden sneeze. “hWRSHuh!-WRSSHue!... excuse me.” He continued dressing, shaking his head muzzily.

“A dancer, huh?” Hugh said, sloshing the mop into the bucket and starting on the floor. “I wish I could dance. I think I might have two left feet.”

He glanced up shyly at the back of Frank as he removed his shirt.

Looks like a dancer, he thought to himself, admiring the smooth lines of the man’s torso as he bent to look for his clothes. And that bum…definitely a dancer.

His thoughts were interrupted by the sudden double sneeze.

“Bless you!” he said, pushing aside a clothing rack with his foot and sweeping the mop behind it. “It’s a drafty place, this theatre. I think I should probably bring something warmer next time. You alright?”

“Fine, I…” Frank’s voice cracked and he released a rushing “hWRSHuh!” into the back of his wrist.

“Think I might have caught whatever’s going around.” He shrugged, with a smile to show it wasn’t serious. He certainly didn’t want the new cleaner to avoid him or create any awkwardness. Frank finished dressing in a hurry.

“Bless you,” Hugh repeated. “Going around, eh? I guess I ought to clean extra well.”

He finished his work on the floor and turned to scrubbing down the sink in the corner of the dressing room. Glancing up into the mirror, he watched Frank as the man finished buttoning up his shirt. It was hard to believe that someone as handsome as that was only in the chorus.

“I’m nearly done here,” Hugh said, running the tap. “I was going to put a pot of tea on in the green room before I head home. Did you want some?”

The dancer looked as though he was about to decline, them shrugged and gave Hugh another warm smile. “Why not?” He grabbed a cloth from the counter and helped Hugh finish the last few jobs, then the two walked to the green room side by side.

He heating in there had been turned off and it the air had an icy edge that set Frank coughing again. While Hugh put his bucket away he took a moment to blow his nose and try to rearrange himself. There was no denying the tight threads of a headache behind his eyes and he was sure he must look groggy and half-asleep. Perhaps he could sit and put his head in his hands just for a moment, while the kettle boiled. That was how Hugh found him when he returned.

“You look like you should be home in bed,” Hugh said when he re-entered the green room. “I won’t keep you.”

He poured the boiling water from the kettle into an old, chipped Brown Betty and set it to steep.

Settling into the couch opposite Frank, he stretched out his legs and rocked his neck side to side, feeling the pull on tight, tired muscles.

“So, where were you before you came here to dance?” he asked, leaning forward to pour the tea into mugs. He passed a steaming cup to Frank. “Sorry, I looked but there’s no honey.”

“What-? Oh, that’s sweet of you.”

As he took the tea he gave Hugh a thoughtful look, meeting the man’s eyes. Kind eyes, he thought, liking them immediately. “I’ve been dancing a few different places. London mostly. Brighton. I was drafted right at the end of the war, got to France and got sent home again. Lucky really. My old lady didn’t really want me home again, so here I am.” He says it’s lightly, like it’s nothing. It only stings a little these days. He hopes Hugh will understand the unspoken implication. The theatre is as safe as place to be queer as any, the rest of middle England not so much. He watches Hugh carefully, to gauge a reaction.

“Here you are,” Hugh said, smiling. “A fellow soldier. Though I suppose most of us were involved somehow. I was in the Merchant Navy, myself. Stationed down off the tip of South America. Didn’t see much action there beyond dodging icebergs and chasing the occasional penguin off the deck.”

There was no action in South America, but the way home had been a different matter altogether. He rarely talked about the U-Boat attack, or the hours in the frigid Atlantic waiting for the rescue vessel, or the way his left leg ached to the point of a limp when it rained. He did not talk about Jack, who had been his closest confidante on the ship, and the fact that he didn’t make it out of the water that day.

Clearing the thoughts of the war from his mind, he focused on his cup of tea and the handsome man sitting across from him. He did not respond to Frank’s comment about his ‘old lady’ not wanting him home. Hugh was fairly certain he understood Frank’s meaning, but this sort of thing was a delicate dance and the last thing he wanted to do was offend a new colleague.

Frank actually snorted his tea when Hugh mentioned the penguin. “You’ll have to tell me the whole of that story when I’m awake enough to listen.” He watched Hugh’s face, wondering if he really caught a moment of sadness on there. He, too, did not want to offend.

His tea finished, Frank stood and stretched. His nose was tickling something fierce and scrubbed it with the heel of his hand was no longer making any difference.

“Thanks for tea but I’d better be go-oh-ing…” he managed, trying to keep his voice steady.

“I think that’s probably for the best,” agreed Hugh. “I’ve just got to shut out the house lights and lock check in with the door guard and I’m good to go. What direction are you headed? I’ll walk with you a bit, if you’re headed down towards Brook Street.”

“Yes, that’s…” It was no good. Frank’s voice hovered up an octave as he tried to continue. “That’s-“ he gave up and managed a “sorry, gonnasneeze…”which bought him just enough time to pull out a white handkerchief before a heavy fit overtook him.

“hmptCHSsshhoo! CHSSsshoo! hWRSHoo!!”

It took the man a minute to get his breath back. He shook his head and gave Hugh an inquiring look. “Are you sure? M’not exactly good company… I feel like a mess.”

“Bless you,” Hugh offered sympathetically. He patted his trouser pocket, hoping to find a spare handkerchief to offer, but he’d left it in his coat. “It’s alright. I’m walking that way anyhow. Might as well go together.”

He gathered his coat and bag from a nearby storage room and put away the tea things while Frank gathered up his own belongings. They walked down the hallway and up the stairs to the back of the theatre orchestra seats. Hugh reached for the panel of lighting and switched off the breakers for the house lights, plunging the room into darkness. Alone in the middle of the stage, the ghostlight shone just enough light to make out the arch of the proscenium and the gilded footlights along the front of the stage.

“Besides being all lit up for a show, I think it’s the most beautiful in here like this,” he said, staring up at the light.

“Wonderful.” Frank agreed, voice soft. It wasn’t the stage he was looking at.

The walk home went too quickly. Frank enjoyed his new friend’s chatter and contributed as much as he could, but most of his attention was focused on minding his now dripping nose, subtly wiping it whenever Hugh’s attention was diverted. He muffled a series of sneezes into the sleeve of his coat but managed to keep walking and listening to the man’s pleasant voice. It was much colder than previous days and he found himself wishing for gloves and a scarf.

At the corner of his street he paused. “This is my stop. Will I see you tomorrow?”

“I’ll be in around eight, actually. They asked if I could take care of concessions for the intermission. I guess the usual guy is out.”

He shrugged and grinned.

“I haven’t worked food since I was sixteen slinging popcorn at the local ballpark, but I think I’ll manage.”

He thought about extending his hand to shake Frank’s, but one look at his reddening nose made Hugh think twice. Poor guy. Instead, he settled on a nod and a smile.

“I’ll see you tomorrow then. Get some rest.”

He watched Frank retreat down the side street before strolling onward to his flat above his uncle’s office. It was a sparse but cozy little spot furnished with a twin bed, an armchair, and a desk along with his own sink for washing up. The toilet and kitchen were shared with one of his uncle’s clerks who lived at the opposite end of the flat, but he was away visiting his ill mother for the week.

Hugh limped slightly up the stairs, feeling the strain of a day spent on his feet. He settled into his arm chair, massaging his sore knee while his thoughts drifted to the handsome dancer. Fingers crossed that he’d get more time to talk to Frank tomorrow.

-

By the time five o’clock rolled around the next day, Hugh was eager to leave the office and to get to the theatre. He didn’t mind the work in his uncle’s firm, but it was boring columns of numbers and figures calculated alongside a dozen other men who had no discernable passions or interesting personalities. The theatre was a much more colourful cast of characters.

He ate a quick dinner in his room, had a cat nap, washed up and changed, and then headed down to the stage door. The show had already begun and Hugh peered in through the back audience doors, craning his neck for a glimpse of Frank among those assembled onstage.

It wasn’t long before his patience was rewarded with a tap dance from a few members of the men’s chorus line. They were smartly turned out in black tailcoats that span outwards as they turned. Of the three, one caught the eye; for the sharpness of his movements and for his genuine, handsome smile which recanted all the way to his eyes. The shadows under his eyes and pale sheen to his cheeks were only noticeable if you knew to look for them, which Hugh did.

Poor Frank looked just as ill as yesterday, but you wouldn’t know it from the dancing. Hugh watched, transfixed.

“Have you fetched the bottles of wine from the cellar yet?” a voice behind Hugh whispered sharply. He spun around to see Mr. Thompson, the house manager.

“No, sir,” Hugh said, shutting the theatre doors from the lobby quietly. “I was just about to.”

“We aren’t paying you to watch the show,” Mr. Thompson chastised.

“No, I know, sorry,” Hugh apologized, rushing to prepare the intermission concessions.

Soon the lobby was filled with patrons enjoying a glass of wine and a cigarette between acts. Hugh managed well enough but was relieved when the bell chimed to signal the patrons to return to their seats. With the second act underway, Hugh tidied up the concessions stall and wandered towards backstage, digging in the closet for a broom and biding his time sweeping the back hall by the dressing rooms. He wasn’t technically scheduled to start his cleaning shift until after the show was over and the actors had gone, but he had an ulterior motive to the early start: he was hoping to chat with Frank again.

In the distance, he heard the roar of the applauding crowd. The show was just finishing up. Soon, a stream of singers, dancers, and other acts flooded into the hall and Hugh stepped aside, leaning casually on the broom as his eyes scanned the crowd.

He heard Frank before he saw him. There was a terrible, damp-sounding cough from around the corner and then Frank appeared, still in his top hat and tails.

Unaware he was being watched, Frank turned away towards to wall to cough hard into his handkerchief. His other hand rested on top of his breast-bone, nursing a tightness that wouldn’t seem to shift. When the fit subsided he looked up at the other man, startled. His pupils were huge in the low light.

“Hello! How long have you been standing there?” He waved a hand to show it didn’t matter, but a distinct blush rose in his neck and the tops of his ears. He would have preferred to pull himself together and ‘accidentally’ run into his new friend at a time of his own choosing. Oh well, too late now. To make matters worse the prickling need to sneeze, which had never been far away throughout the performance, fanned to unavoidable levels and he could only draw a quick panting gasp before doubling into the handkerchief, stifling it as much as he could.

“ah-dZsch!”He recovered with what he hoped was a casual smile. “You should do a better job with your cleaning. It’s awfully dusty down here.”

“Long enough. You look dreadful, but somehow I don’t think my cleaning is to blame,” Hugh said gently. “Cold not improving? I can’t believe you didn’t call out of the show. I saw a bit of your number and there’s no way I could do that with a clogged head.”

He smiled sympathetically.

“The kettle is on in the green room if you want some tea. I just heard the stage manager say so.”

The dancer laughed a soft, almost shy, “hah” at the news that Hugh has seen his act. About himself he replied, “It’s really nothing. But tea sounds great. Do you have time for one before you start? It’s freezing down here.”

“I need to wait for everyone to clear out of the dressing rooms,” Hugh confirmed. “So I have a while. You want to get out of your show things and I’ll pour us some cups?”

“Deal.”

Frank changed as quickly as possible. The moment where he was naked between changing shirts made his skin stand up in gooseflesh with shivers that reached his teeth and made them chatter. It was a relief to put on the thick jumper he’d brought with him and he added his overcoat too. He pulled a comb through his hair and let the pomade already in there do it’s work. Close enough. His nose was really stuffed now. He tried blowing it with very little success and wished he’d brought another handkerchief with him, but they were at home and he wanted to put off going home for as long as he could.

Hugh’s auburn hair made him easy to spot in the green room. Frank accepted the cup of tea gratefully and curled his fingers around the mug for warmth.

“Thanks.” He said, sitting himself on the edge of a sofa and patting the seat next to him for Hugh to join him. “I could do with something warm. The heat’s off at my house again, really need to get it seen to.” Another round of damp coughing rather proved his point. He learned away from Hugh as best as he could, careful not to spill his drink.

Hugh sat down with his own mug and frowned at the admission.

“Your heat’s off?” he asked. “But it’s been so cold and damp out. I mean, more than it usually is...you know, England and all that nonsense about our climate. But really...it’s a terrible time of year to go without heat.”

And there was that brutal cough again. Hugh resisted the urge to put a hand on the man’s back to comfort him but instead he dug into his trouser pocket for the clean handkerchief he’d packed that morning.

“Here,” he said, passing it over. “I can’t believe you spent a night in a house with no heat and with a cold too!”

Before he really knew what he way saying, the words tumbled out.

“My flat’s really quite cozy and the heating works almost toowell sometimes. There’s one of those big steam radiators in my room and it clunks and clatters all night long. Why don’t you come and stay there until you heat gets repaired? I can’t let you go home like this knowing you’ve got no way to get warm.”

Frank accepted the handkerchief with ease and a grateful smile, but hovered over the invitation. He eyed Hugh, trying to gauge if it was a genuine offer, because it was certainly tempting. “I mean… are you serious?” He thought of his cold, damp room and the prospect of somewhere he could actually get some rest, and some pleasant company to boot. “What are you, an angel?”

Hugh laughed loudly.

“Far from it,” he said. “But I know what it’s like to be in a place without heat and you seem like the sort who won’t rob me blind. So, it’s all yours.”

He fished into his pocket for his key ring and removed the single gold house key from it.

“It’s 13B Mountsfield Ave. Go in the door to the left of the office front and upstairs. My room’s the one on the right. My flatmate Stephen has the room at the end of the hall but he’s up in Cardiff for the week, so don’t worry about disturbing anyone. Kitchen’s through the sitting room and the loo is down the hall before Stephen’s door.”

He dropped the key into Frank’s hand.

“There’s a kettle in the kitchen and tea in cupboard beside the stove. And there should be some food in the fridge. Help yourself to whatever you like. Spare handkerchiefs are in the box on top of my dresser, if you need one.”

He drained his mug of tea and gave Frank one last friendly smile.

“I should start on the cleaning. Usually the principals are clear of their rooms by now. Make yourself at home and I should be back by eleven at the latest.”

“You’re really sure? Thanks a million. That’s brilliant.” Normally he might have protested more and been more effusively thankful, but honestly Frank was too exhausted to overthink the offer. All he could do was accept the key, and the smile, and shake his head in happy puzzlement as his new friend left on his rounds.

………..

Frank Westmore stood in front of the kettle in Hugh’s little flat, waiting to muffle the sound as soon as it began to whistle. He made himself a cup of tea, trying hard not to pry into Hugh’s sparse living arrangements too much.

As Hugh has promised, it was pleasantly warm inside, a wonderful contrast to the outside air where a fine drizzle was beginning to fall. Frank had on a thick woollen jumper that had been knitted for him by the mother of a friend. His hair was tousled from it’s usual neatness and fell to one side of his face, the darkness contrasting his pale skin. He may have been warm but he honestly felt awful. When he first let himself in to the flat he had been stifling his outbursts of sneezing, not wanting to disturb the neighbours through the thin walls. It soon proved impossible and he surrendered himself to sneezing thickly into a borrowed hankie every five minutes or so. He was well aware he sounded dreadful and was too tired to care.

He sat down on the sofa and listened to the sound of the rain on the window and the unfamiliar creaks and gurgles of an unfamiliar house, fingers gripping the mug for warmth. He felt weak and shivery enough to wonder if he had a temperature and fervently hoped not. He was causing his new friend enough trouble already. He had been home with plenty of gentlemen after less that acquaintance than this, but this was a different matter altogether. As soon as the tea was finished he found a blanket on the back of the sofa and tucked it over his legs, curling his tall frame into the sofa. Perhaps he could close his eyes for a few minutes…

Back at the theatre, Hugh went about his cleaning duties. When he’d emptied the last of the trash cans and swept the dressings room, he bid farewell to the stage door guard and stepped out into the rainy night. A glance at his wristwatch showed the time to be nearly eleven. The streets were quiet on his walk home and he hurried along, eager to be out of the rain. With his spare key, he let himself into his flat and climbed the stairs slowly. The damp weather always aggravated his old war injury and his knee throbbed insistently.

He reached the landing and shed his coat, hanging it on the coat rack alongside Frank’s. Then, with careful steps, he crept into the small sitting room.

On the sofa, Frank snored softly, sounding completely miserable with congestion. Hugh frowned and stood watching the man for a moment. He chastised himself for not offering Frank the use of his bed, where he’d be far more comfortable. Frank’s position on the couch was an awkward cramming of limbs that looked like it might result in a sore neck in the morning.

Still, it didn’t seem worth it to wake the sleeping man for that. Even in the dim moonlight, Frank’s face looked pale and exhausted as he slept, his mouth hanging open slightly in a battle for air.

Hugh went down to the kitchen and poured himself two fingers of Scotch. He wandered into his own room, pausing to look at his reflection in the mirror mounted on the wall. Looking back at him was a tall auburn-haired man with lines beginning to form around his eyes and a shadow of stubble on his chin. He yawned and then stuck his tongue out at his own reflection. Who was he kidding trying to woo someone as handsome as Frank?                                            

“ah-dZsch!”

His thoughts were interrupted by a hoarse, congested sounding sneeze. Then another, then another. Frank struggled to sit up on the sofa and helplessly cupped his hands over his nose and mouth as the ticklish sensation flared. “ah-dZsch!dZsch!--dZsch!”He tried to give his host an apology but his breath caught in an unsteady inhale and a heavy, “hWRSHoo!! … ugh.”

There was still a sneezy, irritated look around his eyes but he managed, “Hugh! How -snf-was your shift?”

“Christ, man,” Hugh said, come out into the living room and catching the end of the brutal fit. “Bless you.”

He sank down into the armchair opposite the sofa and shrugged.

“It was alright. One of the girls spilled her setting powder in the dancers’ dressing room. Took me ages to get all of it cleaned up.”

With a lop-sided, sympathetic smile he added, “Better question is how are you?”

“I’ve been worse.” He was actually feeling better for the sleep, well enough to tease Hugh a little.

“Don’t let me keep you up if you’re going to bed. The sofa’s just fine. Though I have to ask… do you invite all the dancers back to your flat or just the really charming ones?” There was no doubt in his mind that any chance he might have had was ruined now Hugh had seen him like this, but it was his nature to at least give it a try. He finished the statement with another ticklish sneeze and a wry smile.

“Hey!” Hugh said playfully. “I told you it was my first week on the job. What kind of guy do you take me for?”

He was certain this was flirting. What he wasn’t sure about was whether Frank was one of those cads who flirted with anything with legs, or if this was genuine. Frank certainly seemed genuine enough, so Hugh pushed his luck a little.

“I promise you,” he said with mock seriousness. “I only ever invite handsome, charming ones back but they’ve been awfully hard to find. I had to find one with broken heating as an excuse to get him to come over. Can you believe that?”

“Times are certainly hard, when this is best the theatre has to offer.” Frank agreed with equal sincerity, gesturing to himself with vague emphasis on his nose and throat.

He came and sat on the arm of Hugh’s chair, then asked, “Oh, are you hurt? You sit with your leg funny.” Almost immediately he realised how that sounded and his cheeks flushed.

“Err, it’s an old injury,” Hugh said, glancing down at his knee. “From the war.”

He felt a strange reluctance to admit it. There were many men who came back injured in much more serious and life-altering ways. A bit of an ache was nothing, really.

“At least I know I’ll never be a dancer,” he said with an awkward laugh.

Frank was sitting so close now and Hugh shifted in the chair, unsure of what to do with himself. He glanced up at Frank’s flushed face and they exchanged a small smile. Hugh bit his lip, gathering his courage, and slipped a hand casually onto Frank’s thigh.

“I’ll leave the dancing to you,” he said.

Frank brought his own hand to meet Hugh’s and intertwined their fingers.

“We’ll see about that.” He murmured.

There was a long moment. Frank played his thumb over the tendons in Hugh’s hands, enjoying the lean strength. He almost held his breath, savouring the moment and the possibility. Unfortunately all the pleasant company in the world couldn’t stop his nose from running. He cursed inwardly as he felt the need to sneeze again, and rubbed a knuckle hard under his nose to try and stave it off. That was easier to suppress than the enormous yawn that followed.

“Excuse me, I’m just a bit tired. Not of you.”

“It’s late,” said Hugh softly. “You should get some more rest.”

He squeezed Frank’s thigh gently and stood up, stretching out his long limbs.

“Be right back,” he said, heading for the hall closet near the bathroom. He returned a moment later with a quilt and a proper bed pillow.

“These might be a little better than the throw blanket,” he said, offering them up. “Sorry, I should’ve mentioned them before.”

“Thanks. Goodnight.” Frank said sincerely. The moment Hugh’s hand had left him, the chilled, shivery feeling had returned and he was more than happy to lie down on the sofa under the quilt. He rubbed his legs together for warmth and watched Hugh undress for bed through a half-open eye. He himself slept in his undershirt, a thick shirt and a jumper, and was very glad of all of them. Lying down was not so kind to his nose. He felt congestion throb across his sinuses and forehead, forcing him into a set of sudden sneezes that made his throat ache.

“hWRSHuh! Hi-hWRSHue!”

He honestly felt bad for his friend having to listen to him all night. And yet, despite it all, he fell into a heavy sleep.

Hugh looked up from buttoning his pyjama top to see Frank’s shape shaking under the quilt on the couch as he sneezed. By the time he had gone to brush his teeth and came back to turn down his sheets, it sounded as if Frank had fallen asleep. There was a soft, rhythmic wheeze coming from under the quilts. Hugh went to the kitchen and poured a tall glass of water, sneaking back into the living room to leave it on the coffee table in case Frank woke in the night.

Then, with a yawn, he went into his room, leaving the door open a crack, and climbed into bed.

Only a few hours later he was awoken by a loud thump, a crash and stream of swear words followed by a worryingly long bout of coughing.

In the living room Frank sat gingerly on the edge of the sofa, trying to get a clear breath so he could focus on what havoc he had caused. His head was spinning. It took him a long minute to work out where he was, and the time in between made his heart race with anxiety. He’d woken up on the floor with a shock. Standing up dizzily he’d managed to knock something over- a glass?- and now the floor and his sock were wet, he was covered in sweat, it was still too dark to see properly and what was Hugh going to say? He really meant to get up and start cleaning but he couldn’t think where to start. Maybe he’d wait for the dizziness and hot clammy feeling to pass. Honestly he felt like he wanted to cry.

Hugh woke with a start, confused by the sudden clatter in the living room. His heart hammered in his chest from the rush of adrenaline and he sat up, searching the darkness for the source of the noise. He reached for the bedside lamp, switching it on. His brain fog cleared and he recognized the sound that was happening now: a terrible cough.

Swinging his legs out of bed, he rushed to the living room and fumbled on the wall for the light switch. In the dim glow of the inefficient floor lamp, he saw Frank bent over on the sofa looking absolutely dreadful. The glass he’d left on the table was a cracked and broken mess on the floor along with a pool of water but he didn’t give it a second thought when faced with the state of the man sitting nearby.

He hurried down the hall to the kitchen and filled a new glass with water, bringing it back to the living room and stepping gingerly around the glass shards on the floor. He sat down beside Frank on the sofa and held out the glass of water.

“Here,” he said gently, putting a comforting hand on the man’s back.

Frank gulped the glass of water in one go and then leaned into the touch, resting his weight against Hugh’s supporting arm. Hugh could feel his quick breaths and the kick of his ribs as the occasional cough interrupted his words.

“I’m so sorry- I woke you up- I fell out of bed then I broke- I’ll clean it in a minute.”  The low light played on his dark eyes, making them huge in his face, making him look surprisingly young. He managed a half laugh at himself. “I- I’m not doing very well.”

“Hey, hey,” Hugh said, rubbing a small circle on Frank’s back. “It’s alright. Don’t worry about it.”

He finally got a good look at Frank’s face and he frowned. His cheeks were flushed a bright pink against an otherwise pale and sweaty face. With his other hand, he reached out and gently laid it on Frank’s brow.

“Oh, Frank,” he said, feeling the heat radiating from the skin. “You’re burning up.”

He pushed Frank’s thick hair back off his forehead and the mix of sweat and old pomade made it stick up in an endearingly boyish way.

“It’s fine. I just need to sleep it off.” Frank murmured. “Do you have some aspirin or something?”

That said he made no move to pull away from Hugh.  It was surprising how comfortable he felt with a man he had met only yesterday. Even as he spoke his eyes were fluttering closed again. His head lolled against the man’s shoulder but he shook himself awake, truly intending to get up and clean the glass. In a moment. Or two.

“Yeah, in the medicine cabinet. You alright for a second?”

He carefully guided Frank’s head back against the couch and tucked the quilt over his legs.

“Be right back.”

He took the unbroken water glass and went to the bathroom. Finding the aspirin bottle and the glass thermometer in its case, he took both with him along with the refilled glass of water.

“Alright, he were are,” he said, returning to Frank’s side and putting the pills and water on the table. “First things first; let’s see what we’re up against.”

He slid the thermometer out of its case and passed it to Frank to put under his tongue.

“Hold that there for a second. I’m going to get the broom and clean up this glass.”

The other man sat obediently still, only his eyes following Hugh’s movements as the mess was swept away. Congestion made it hard for him to breathe and he had to concentrate hard on keeping it in there. Strange. He wasn’t sure he’d ever had his temperature checked this way, not since he was old enough to remember. He was determined to be a good patient but it was difficult when his nose was trickling and he desperately wanted to cough.

After what seemed a reasonable amount of time he took it out and had a look, squinting through the glass at the mercury, then passed it to Hugh with a helpless shrug.  “Is that okay?”

Hugh looked at the thin red stripe and gave Frank a good humoured smile.

“Well, the thermometer and I agree: you’re hot.”

He laughed softly at his own joke and then caught himself and blushed. He sat down next to Frank again, putting the thermometer back in its case and screwing open the aspirin bottle.

“Here we are,” he said, dosing out two tablets and holding them out.

“So I’ve- snff-heard. He was too out of it to make a good response, especially with his nose running. He held the back of his hand against it as he rifled through the sheets for the handkerchief. “S-scuse me- snf-Snff”He gave his nose a fierce scrub with the heel of his thumb. “Ugh. Sorry. It’s really itchy…” The fever made him a little weak and distracted. It was hard to think of taking the aspirin, finding the hankie and chatting with Hugh at the same time.

“It’s here,” Hugh said, reaching down to the end of the couch where the handkerchief was lodged between two cushions. “I’m sorry. I’m afraid I don’t have anything else to make it better beyond aspirin and the old ‘head over a steam bowl’ trick. But somehow that doesn’t seem like a good idea with a fever.”

He looked affectionately at the struggling man and then clapped a hand lightly on his back.

“I have an idea though. Take the pills. I’ll be right back.”

He went back to the washroom and soaked a flannel in cool water, wringing it out until it was just damp and bringing it back to the living room.

“This might help a bit,” he offered.

Frank looked up with a distracted, ticklish expression. “Hang on…I-hWRSHuh!”A quick, stuffy sounding sneeze followed quickly by two more in quick succession. The motion made him dizzy again and he leaned on the arm of the sofa until his head cleared enough to take the cloth.

“Good idea. Thanks. Look, you should go back to bed. I can look after myself.”

He tucked his legs back up onto the sofa and lay down again, trying to settle the cloth on his forehead. He didn’t particularly want to be left alone in an unfamiliar house, but his host was starting to look tired too and he didn’t want to become a burden.

“Are you sure you don’t want the bed?” Hugh asked. He was sure that Frank would refuse it, but he felt bad leaving a guest, especially a sick guest, to sleep on the lumpy couch.

“Let me help,” he offered as Frank reclined. He adjusted the cloth on Frank’s brow, tucking it under his fringe. The man’s face looked exhausted and a little frightened, and Hugh couldn’t help but pause to run his fingers through Frank’s hair.

Frank closed his eyes to the touch and when he opened them they his gaze was soft and unfocused. “You can keep doing that if you want. I won’t get bored.”

Hugh laughed and smoothed back the hair a few more times.

“Alright, get some rest,” he said quietly as Frank dozed off. He crept quietly back to his room and climbed into bed. The next thing he knew, he was blinking in the morning sunlight. In all the excitement of the previous night, he’d neglected to shut his curtains.

He yawned and stretched and snuck out of bed, past the still-sleeping Frank in the living room and he made himself a cup of tea in the kitchen.

By the time Hugh returned, the man of the sofa had stirred himself and even gone so far as to sit up, though he looked pretty groggy.  Frank was trying to settle his hair back into shape, a sure sign that he was doing better. More or less.

“Morning.”

It came out as a husky rasp much lower than his usual tone. “Ugh. Crikey!”  He was too congested to pronounce all the consonants, making the effect more endearing and less sexy than he had hoped.

Speaking irritated his throat and nose, and he gave Hugh an apologetic ‘hold on’ gesture as he bucked his head into his shoulder in a set of tight, stuffy sneezes.

“ah-tsgh!Tsgh!--tghSch!”

“Well, that answers my morning question,” Hugh said. “I’ll go pour you a cup. Kettle’s still hot.”

He returned a moment later with a second mug of tea and sat down next to Frank on the couch.

“Morning,” he said with a shy smile. “Feeling any better at all?”

He extended a hand tentatively and let the back of it brush Frank’s brow.

“Fever’s gone. That’s good.”

“Yeah.” Frank moved a little closer to take the tea. Their legs were touching on the couch and he didn’t mind that at all. When his host didn’t move away, he leaned into Hugh’s side, resting his head against the back of the sofa.

“I’m ok, I think. Just -snf-full of cold. Thanks for having me…” he tailed off as memories of the previous night surfaced. “Bet you didn’t think I’d be this much hard work. Definitely beat spending it alone with the heat off, though. It’s… really nice of you to take care of me like that. You’re good at it.” He coughed, a little embarrassed but managed to look Hugh directly in the eye.

Hugh gave a little smile back and chewed on his lip nervously.

“Well, I didn’t mind. It was nice, in spite of you being sick.”

He nudged his leg playfully against Frank’s.

“Good thing there’s no show tonight. Gives you a bit of time to get better.”

“Thank God.” Frank agreed. “Hey… when I’ve beaten this thing, can I take you out for a drink?”

He went to say more but was interrupted by a sudden, ticklish sneeze that made him lean on Hugh’s thigh for support. Surfacing, he shook his head and laughed at himself. “Not because I owe you for having me,” he continued, “though obviously I do. What do you say?”

“I say ‘bless you’ first,” Hugh teased. “And yes, I’d like that very much.”

A coy grin spread across his face.

“You want to know what really stinks?” he asked. “When you’d really like to kiss a guy but you’re afraid to catch the flu.”

He squeezed Frank’s thigh in a teasing gesture.

“Let’s say you owe me that too.”