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[aishangotome]

Main Story Chapter 14 Card: Charlie - The Accomplice (共犯) | Light and Night 光與夜之戀

Episode 3

♡———♡

19 Years Ago. Late Spring.

Why does love make one feel humiliated?

As he led me by the hand out of that small wooden cabin, Dad said, "Sweetie, if the police ask you what happened, you need to say you were kidnapped."

I was about to ask him, "Why kidnapped? I don't feel like I was kidnapped," but he interrupted me. "You're still young," he said, "You need to listen to me."

It was true. There were so many things I didn't understand, but Dad understood everything, so he always told me, "You need to listen to me."

The door to my room could be opened at any time, because I had to listen to him, I couldn't watch TV after 10 p.m. My schoolbag could also be searched at any moment, because I had to listen to him, I couldn't bring chocolate to school. And my belongings could be taken away at will, because Dad knew all the rules of the world, so he could put those things to better use.

I often felt like Dad had never been a child, because children always encounter things they don't understand. But he was intelligent and exceptional, like an omniscient and omnipotent god. No, God still carried the burden of sin. He surpassed even God.

Even when facing a bare tree, he could speak those profound words I couldn't understand or utilize. The gap between us was vast, despairingly so.

So, naturally, I firmly believed the rules of the world he described.

Except for one thing I disliked. I disliked him always telling me, "You need to listen to me."

Every time he said that, I would see a bug flying towards me, then my mouth would be forced open, and the bug would fly in. It wasn't until I chewed it up and swallowed that the buzzing in my stomach would stop. It was a disgusting feeling, and you wouldn't even know, no one else could see it.

Look, it's happening again.

Dad asked if I had any other questions, and I desperately wanted to shake my head and say "No." But that day, something felt off.

The bug was moving slowly, and I managed to catch it before my mouth was forced open. So I looked up at Dad and said, "But that man only invited me to his house because he saw me waiting by the gate with no one to pick me up. And he gave me an apple to eat."

"Sweetie, you must have been terrified." Dad vigorously ruffled my hair, his hand cold—he didn't know I hated that, it made me feel like a pet that just needed to be fed regularly. He told me it was a kidnapping, that the man was crazy.

I struggled to swallow his words, just like swallowing that bug. But kidnapping, as I understood it, wasn't like this. Kidnappers would act fierce and menacing. I would be faced with a gun, or maybe a knife. They would call Dad and demand a ransom. But none of that happened.

In fact, we had simply spent an hour quietly in that small cabin. And the only thing offered to me was an apple, when I said I was hungry.

I had to tell Dad all this because he was the person I loved most. So I shook my head and said, "That man didn't smell like a bad person."

As I said this, I couldn't help but smile, eager to share a truth I had discovered on my own, without relying on Dad.

A while ago, there had been a theft in the classroom. Everyone was packing up their things when a roar suddenly erupted. It was one of the boys in our class. He kicked his desk over, refusing to believe that his wallet was gone. He insisted those stray dogs by the school gate had eaten it, and that he was going to cut them open and check their stomachs.

It was at that moment that I smelled a strange odor. I saw the word "bad person" emerge from the pages of books and my imagination, materializing before me. I remember that scene vividly, even though I was only nine years old.

Dad looked at me with surprise, and I suddenly realized this was probably the first time I had ever questioned his judgment.

But he quickly smiled, the wrinkles on his face deepening. He crouched down and looked me in the eye. "So, did my little darling smell the badness on Daddy?" he asked.

I was suddenly angry. I had been earnestly sharing my greatest revelation so far, hoping he would acknowledge my growth, but he treated it like a joke. I didn't understand. Why were the words of a child never taken seriously, no matter how sincere, while those crude, shallow words, just because they were spoken by adults, were considered the truth of life itself?

My anger finally earned his attention. He straightened his expression, adopting the serious demeanor that always made him feel distant. "Because that man is mentally ill," he explained, "We can't judge him by normal standards of 'bad.' But it's okay, he's been sent to the hospital for treatment now."

This eloquent explanation was so profound that I was left speechless.

What was "mentally ill?" I wondered. Were there different types of "bad," normal and abnormal ones? And what was normal? What was abnormal? That man was no different from other people I had met. If he was mentally ill, then were we all?

No, there must be some mistake. How could that man be a bad person? But Dad wouldn't lie to me. I looked up at him with a confused expression, and Dad seemed quite pleased with my reaction. It was as if the more genuine my distress, the more satisfied he became.

Why do adults enjoy seeing children in pain? It wasn't until much later that I realized a child's pain was a kind of fertilizer that could quickly cultivate blind adoration. Adults thrived on this adoration, then lauded it as some kind of noble sentiment.

I felt the connection I had just established with the world sever. Countless bugs buzzed in my stomach. Overwhelmed by confusion and shock, I told myself, So I was the one who was wrong. Dad was right again.

The taste of the apple in my mouth turned sour, bitter, and nauseating. I tried to swallow it down, but it sank into my stomach, leaving a bitter taste behind.

-

12 Years Ago. Midsummer.

In his early high school years, during a class, the teacher brought up the topic of "dreams and the future."

Teacher: Charlie, what do you want to do in the future?

Before Charlie, who had been called on, could answer, the classmate beside him jumped in.

Classmate: Inherit the family business, of course!

The other students burst into laughter. Charlie frowned, a flicker of annoyance in his eyes.

Charlie: I want to do something else.

Classmate: Something else? With such a privileged background, why would you deliberately choose a harder path?

Charlie glared at him. The boy shrank back, but still retorted,

Classmate: Then tell us, what do you want to do?

I want to...

His mother's pale, frail face flashed through his mind, and Charlie clenched his fists under the desk.

Charlie: I want to save people.

The classroom erupted in laughter. These rich kids looked at him like he was a primitive caveman.

Classmate: Save people? The world is peaceful now. Who needs saving?

There are many, you just don't see them, Charlie thought, but looking at their expressions, he didn't bother explaining.

Charlie didn't have a specific career in mind. He had many dreams. He wanted to be like the heroes in cartoons, upholding justice. He wanted to be a doctor, healing and saving lives. He wanted to be a police officer, fighting evil...

He also wanted to be a firefighter, protecting the world from fires. He wanted to be a journalist, using his camera and pen to report the truth, to speak for those who couldn't.

Any profession that allowed him to help people, that's what he wanted to do.

Charlie believed that he would be like the steadfast tin soldier in his favorite childhood fairytale, persevering until the very end, his brave heart unwavering even when consumed by flames.

When he told his cousin, Zha Lifen, about this, she didn't laugh like the others. Instead, she offered him a suggestion.

She said that the news station she worked at was short-staffed and needed some interns. If Charlie was interested, she could arrange it.

Given the chance to pursue his dream, Charlie readily agreed without much hesitation.

But his luck seemed to be less than ideal. On his first day, he was assigned to interview the "most stubborn resident," a man refusing to leave his home.

His colleagues gave him pitying looks.

Colleague: Poor you.

Colleague: I went there before. That old man, Wei, has a terrible temper and isn't quite right in the head. Just do your best.

Charlie: Is he the only one living there?

Colleague: Yeah, I heard he used to live there with his daughter. After she died, he went crazy.

Colleague: He rambles incoherently, refuses to agree to the demolition, keeps saying something about preserving evidence.

He sounded like any ordinary stubborn and grumpy old man. But Charlie's sharp mind noticed something.

Charlie: Maybe there's more to his daughter's death?

Colleague: Who knows? That's just what people say.

Charlie: I'm going to check it out.

Colleague: As expected of a young man, so full of energy. Well then, good luck.

-

Following the address in the information provided, Charlie arrived at the location in the suburbs.

The original residential area was completely gone, replaced by a vast construction site. Only one dilapidated building remained, standing defiantly amidst the weeds.

Charlie cautiously stepped onto the porch, the loose floorboards creaking ominously.

Charlie: Hello, Mr. Wei? Are you home?

He knocked several times, but there was no response. Just as he was wondering what to do, the door suddenly swung open, and an old man glared at him angrily.

Wei: Who are you? What do you want?!

He looked very old, wearing an old-fashioned black suit, as if trying to maintain a last shred of dignity, its edges frayed and faded.

Charlie: Hello, I'm an intern reporter with the midday news.

Before Charlie could even take out his press pass, Wei glared at him impatiently.

Wei: Go away! I'm not giving any interviews! You're all just lapdogs for the developers!

The old man angrily waved his thin arm, trying to chase him away.

Charlie dodged, using the opportunity to observe the interior. The furniture was old and worn, and there were strange cracks and dents in the ceiling.

Charlie: I really am a reporter! Here's my ID!

Charlie: Don't you want people to know what you're going through? Why are you refusing to relocate? Why are you so determined to stay here?

Charlie: This house is very old. Haven't you considered accepting the compensation and finding a better place to live?

Hearing this, the old man flew into a rage, his voice rising hysterically.

Wei: I'll never leave!

Wei: I have to preserve the evidence! I can't let Holly die without justice! Those unscrupulous developers won't get away with this!

Wei: If you want to demolish this house, you'll have to do it over my dead body!

"Slam!" The old door slammed shut, sending dust raining down on Charlie.

He wiped the dust off his face.

His earlier conjecture was confirmed. The reason the old man refused to move was indeed related to his daughter's death. Charlie decided to continue investigating.

-

The investigation wasn't going smoothly.

He managed to contact Wei's distant relatives, but when they heard his intentions, they just cursed the old man, calling him crazy, and told Charlie not to bother them.

With no other options, Charlie tried searching for old news reports, but there was only a brief mention of the "most stubborn resident." No one had ever reported on the details of the incident.

Finally, Charlie found a phone number on an old rental advertisement, a number belonging to the old man's former neighbor, who had already moved away.

Thankfully, the call went through. When Charlie asked about the incident, a sigh came from the other end of the line.

Neighbor: Oh, I didn't expect anyone to still be asking about Wei.

Neighbor: That house was bought by his daughter, Holly. She worked hard to save up for it.

Neighbor: Back then, we would often chat, and he would always talk about it, so proud.

Charlie: But I heard that Miss Holly passed away?

Neighbor: Yes, she did. Sigh... Poor Holly and Wei...

Neighbor: The second year after we moved in, the ceiling of the second floor of Wei's house collapsed and hit Holly.

Neighbor: After that, Wei started appealing and suing the developers, saying that there was a problem with the quality of the building.

Neighbor: But the developers insisted that they had damaged a load-bearing wall during renovations, so the court always ruled against him.

Charlie: How could that be?

Neighbor: We weren't sure either. We tried to advise him back then, but he had gone mad, he wouldn't listen to anyone.

Neighbor: Later, everyone just ignored him. I only know that he was still appealing when we moved away.

Charlie: ...I understand. Thank you.

After hanging up, Charlie fell into deep thought. He decided to pay Wei another visit.

As he stepped onto the deserted land, he saw Wei sitting on the porch steps from afar.

A dirty stray dog approached him, and he waved it away.

Wei: Go away! Don't get my house dirty!

The stray dog lowered its head and whimpered, its voice weak.

Wei hesitated for a moment, then got up and went into the house, his hunched back and heavy steps betraying his age.

Just as Charlie was wondering if he should approach the poor dog, Wei came back out.

He held a piece of stale bread and a bowl of water.

Wei: Here, eat this and then leave quickly. If those construction workers see you, they'll beat you to death.

He broke the bread in half, dipped it in water, and placed it in front of the dog, then sat on the steps and slowly ate the other half himself.

Sunlight shone on the dilapidated house. Wei gently stroked the dog's head, a rare tenderness softening his wrinkled face.

Charlie stood there silently. At that moment, he made up his mind.

No one could take away this kind old man's unwavering persistence. He would find the truth for him.

-

Charlie started investigating. He didn't tell anyone, otherwise he might also be labeled a madman, just like the old man.

He could only start with the developers.

The website showed that the developer was a newly established company back then, and had only been able to acquire this land at a discounted price because it was selected for the state government's industrial support program.

His cursor hovered over the "industrial support program" section. Charlie seemed to have guessed something.

For several days, Charlie lingered near the developer's building with his camera. When the face that was displayed on the front page of the developer's website appeared, he immediately snapped a photo.

After repeated comparisons, he confirmed that the two people in the photo were the chairman of the development company and the state governor's secretary.

Why had all of Wei's appeals failed all these years? Charlie felt like he had just glimpsed the tip of the iceberg.

Following this lead, he found a lot of news about the close collaboration between the developer and the state government over the years.

After gathering the evidence, Charlie went to the old house once more.

Wei seemed to remember him and, as before, tried to chase him away.

Charlie: Mr. Wei, I've been investigating this matter. I know the reason behind Holly's accident. I want to help you!

Wei froze, his face filled with surprise and hesitation.

Wei: Y-you want to help me?

Charlie nodded. Wei's eyes widened in disbelief, and he started mumbling to himself.

Wei: Why would you help me? I have nothing left, I can't pay you...

Charlie: I'm not doing this for money. I just want to find the truth, and I already have.

Charlie handed him a folder containing the evidence he had gathered.

Charlie: I've noticed that the developer of this complex had close ties with the governor's secretary. There must be something going on behind the scenes.

Wei paused, then gave a bitter laugh and shook his head.

Wei: Thank you, young man, but I already knew that...

Charlie's eyes widened in surprise.

Charlie: What?

Wei: All these years, I've written countless letters, made countless calls, filed countless appeals. I've contacted all sorts of newspapers and media outlets.

Wei: No one ever responded.

Wei: I guessed the reason back then, but what could I do?

Wei sighed and looked at Charlie.

Wei: Come in, young man. It's rare to have someone willing to listen to me. Come in and have a seat.

Wei shakily opened the door, inviting Charlie into his weathered house.

-

The interior was also dilapidated. The floorboards creaked underfoot, and traces of the collapsed ceiling remained on the second floor.

Wei: Please, have a seat. I haven't had a guest in a long time.

Wei sat down in an old armchair beside the fireplace. Several picture frames were displayed on the mantelpiece. The photos inside were faded, but he could still see the gentle, beautiful smile of the young woman in them.

Wei: After Holly bought this house, we didn't have much money left.

Wei: So we just did some simple renovations and moved in.

Wei: Gradually, we started noticing small cracks appearing in the walls, and the second floor started tilting slightly.

Wei: We contacted the developers, and they said it was just normal settling of the building.

Wei: We didn't know any better, so we believed them.

Wei: Then... As you know, my poor Holly was preparing dinner when the house collapsed.

In his early high school years, during a class, the teacher brought up the topic of "dreams and the future."

Teacher: Charlie, what do you want to do in the future?

Before Charlie, who had been called on, could answer, the classmate beside him jumped in.

Classmate: Inherit the family business, of course!

The other students burst into laughter. Charlie frowned, a flicker of annoyance in his eyes.

Charlie: I want to do something else.

Classmate: Something else? With such a privileged background, why would you deliberately choose a harder path?

Charlie glared at him. The boy shrank back, but still retorted,

Classmate: Then tell us, what do you want to do?

I want to...

His mother's pale, frail face flashed through his mind, and Charlie clenched his fists under the desk.

Charlie: I want to save people.

The classroom erupted in laughter. These rich kids looked at him like he was a primitive caveman.

Classmate: Save people? The world is peaceful now. Who needs saving?

There are many, you just don't see them, Charlie thought, but looking at their expressions, he didn't bother explaining.

Charlie didn't have a specific career in mind. He had many dreams. He wanted to be like the heroes in cartoons, upholding justice. He wanted to be a doctor, healing and saving lives. He wanted to be a police officer, fighting evil...

He also wanted to be a firefighter, protecting the world from fires. He wanted to be a journalist, using his camera and pen to report the truth, to speak for those who couldn't.

Any profession that allowed him to help people, that's what he wanted to do.

Charlie believed that he would be like the steadfast tin soldier in his favorite childhood fairytale, persevering until the very end, his brave heart unwavering even when consumed by flames.

When he told his cousin, Charlie Fen, about this, she didn't laugh like the others. Instead, she offered him a suggestion.

She said that the news station she worked at was short-staffed and needed some interns. If Charlie was interested, she could arrange it.

Given the chance to pursue his dream, Charlie readily agreed without much hesitation.

But his luck seemed to be less than ideal. On his first day, he was assigned to interview the "most stubborn resident," a man refusing to leave his home.

His colleagues gave him pitying looks.

Colleague: Poor you.

Colleague: I went there before. That old man, Wei, has a terrible temper and isn't quite right in the head. Just do your best.

Charlie: Is he the only one living there?

Colleague: Yeah, I heard he used to live there with his daughter. After she died, he went crazy.

Colleague: He rambles incoherently, refuses to agree to the demolition, keeps saying something about preserving evidence.

He sounded like any ordinary stubborn and grumpy old man. But Charlie's sharp mind noticed something.

Charlie: Maybe there's more to his daughter's death?

Colleague: Who knows? That's just what people say.

Charlie: I'm going to check it out.

Colleague: As expected of a young man, so full of energy. Well then, good luck.

Following the address in the information provided, Charlie arrived at the location in the suburbs.

The original residential area was completely gone, replaced by a vast construction site. Only one dilapidated building remained, standing defiantly amidst the weeds.

Charlie cautiously stepped onto the porch, the loose floorboards creaking ominously.

Charlie: Hello, Mr. Wei? Are you home?

He knocked several times, but there was no response. Just as he was wondering what to do, the door suddenly swung open, and an old man glared at him angrily.

Wei: Who are you? What do you want?!

He looked very old, wearing an old-fashioned black suit, as if trying to maintain a last shred of dignity, its edges frayed and faded.

Charlie: Hello, I'm an intern reporter with the midday news.

Before Charlie could even take out his press pass, Wei glared at him impatiently.

Wei: Go away! I'm not giving any interviews! You're all just lapdogs for the developers!

The old man angrily waved his thin arm, trying to chase him away.

Charlie dodged, using the opportunity to observe the interior. The furniture was old and worn, and there were strange cracks and dents in the ceiling.

Charlie: I really am a reporter! Here's my ID!

Charlie: Don't you want people to know what you're going through? Why are you refusing to relocate? Why are you so determined to stay here?

Charlie: This house is very old. Haven't you considered accepting the compensation and finding a better place to live?

Hearing this, the old man flew into a rage, his voice rising hysterically.

Wei: I'll never leave!

Wei: I have to preserve the evidence! I can't let Holly die without justice! Those unscrupulous developers won't get away with this!

Wei: If you want to demolish this house, you'll have to do it over my dead body!

"Slam!" The old door slammed shut, sending dust raining down on Charlie.

He wiped the dust off his face.

His earlier conjecture was confirmed. The reason the old man refused to move was indeed related to his daughter's death. Charlie decided to continue investigating.

The investigation wasn't going smoothly.

He managed to contact Wei's distant relatives, but when they heard his intentions, they just cursed the old man, calling him crazy, and told Charlie not to bother them.

With no other options, Charlie tried searching for old news reports, but there was only a brief mention of the "most stubborn resident." No one had ever reported on the details of the incident.

Finally, Charlie found a phone number on an old rental advertisement, a number belonging to the old man's former neighbor, who had already moved away.

Thankfully, the call went through. When Charlie asked about the incident, a sigh came from the other end of the line.

Neighbor: Oh, I didn't expect anyone to still be asking about Wei.

Neighbor: That house was bought by his daughter, Holly. She worked hard to save up for it.

Neighbor: Back then, we would often chat, and he would always talk about it, so proud.

Charlie: But I heard that Miss Holly passed away?

Neighbor: Yes, she did. Sigh... Poor Holly and Wei...

Neighbor: The second year after we moved in, the ceiling of the second floor of Wei's house collapsed and hit Holly.

Neighbor: After that, Wei started appealing and suing the developers, saying that there was a problem with the quality of the building.

Neighbor: But the developers insisted that they had damaged a load-bearing wall during renovations, so the court always ruled against him.

Charlie: How could that be?

Neighbor: We weren't sure either. We tried to advise him back then, but he had gone mad, he wouldn't listen to anyone.

Neighbor: Later, everyone just ignored him. I only know that he was still appealing when we moved away.

Charlie: ...I understand. Thank you.

After hanging up, Charlie fell into deep thought. He decided to pay Wei another visit.

As he stepped onto the deserted land, he saw Wei sitting on the porch steps from afar.

A dirty stray dog approached him, and he waved it away.

Wei: Go away! Don't get my house dirty!

The stray dog lowered its head and whimpered, its voice weak.

Wei hesitated for a moment, then got up and went into the house, his hunched back and heavy steps betraying his age.

Just as Charlie was wondering if he should approach the poor dog, Wei came back out.

He held a piece of stale bread and a bowl of water.

Wei: Here, eat this and then leave quickly. If those construction workers see you, they'll beat you to death.

He broke the bread in half, dipped it in water, and placed it in front of the dog, then sat on the steps and slowly ate the other half himself.

Sunlight shone on the dilapidated house. Wei gently stroked the dog's head, a rare tenderness softening his wrinkled face.

Charlie stood there silently. At that moment, he made up his mind.

No one could take away this kind old man's unwavering persistence. He would find the truth for him.

Charlie started investigating. He didn't tell anyone, otherwise he might also be labeled a madman, just like the old man.

He could only start with the developers.

The website showed that the developer was a newly established company back then, and had only been able to acquire this land at a discounted price because it was selected for the state government's industrial support program.

His cursor hovered over the "industrial support program" section. Charlie seemed to have guessed something.

For several days, Charlie lingered near the developer's building with his camera. When the face that was displayed on the front page of the developer's website appeared, he immediately snapped a photo.

After repeated comparisons, he confirmed that the two people in the photo were the chairman of the development company and the state governor's secretary.

Why had all of Wei's appeals failed all these years? Charlie felt like he had just glimpsed the tip of the iceberg.

Following this lead, he found a lot of news about the close collaboration between the developer and the state government over the years.

After gathering the evidence, Charlie went to the old house once more.

Wei seemed to remember him and, as before, tried to chase him away.

Charlie: Mr. Wei, I've been investigating this matter. I know the reason behind Holly's accident. I want to help you!

Wei froze, his face filled with surprise and hesitation.

Wei: Y-you want to help me?

Charlie nodded. Wei's eyes widened in disbelief, and he started mumbling to himself.

Wei: Why would you help me? I have nothing left, I can't pay you...

Charlie: I'm not doing this for money. I just want to find the truth, and I already have.

Charlie handed him a folder containing the evidence he had gathered.

Charlie: I've noticed that the developer of this complex had close ties with the governor's secretary. There must be something going on behind the scenes.

Wei paused, then gave a bitter laugh and shook his head.

Wei: Thank you, young man, but I already knew that...

Charlie's eyes widened in surprise.

Charlie: What?

Wei: All these years, I've written countless letters, made countless calls, filed countless appeals. I've contacted all sorts of newspapers and media outlets.

Wei: No one ever responded.

Wei: I guessed the reason back then, but what could I do?

Wei sighed and looked at Charlie.

Wei: Come in, young man. It's rare to have someone willing to listen to me. Come in and have a seat.

Wei shakily opened the door, inviting Charlie into his weathered house.

The interior was also dilapidated. The floorboards creaked underfoot, and traces of the collapsed ceiling remained on the second floor.

Wei: Please, have a seat. I haven't had a guest in a long time.

Wei sat down in an old armchair beside the fireplace. Several picture frames were displayed on the mantelpiece. The photos inside were faded, but he could still see the gentle, beautiful smile of the young woman in them.

Wei: After Holly bought this house, we didn't have much money left.

Wei: So we just did some simple renovations and moved in.

Wei: Gradually, we started noticing small cracks appearing in the walls, and the second floor started tilting slightly.

Wei: We contacted the developers, and they said it was just normal settling of the building.

Wei: We didn't know any better, so we believed them.

Wei: Then... As you know, my poor Holly was preparing dinner when the house collapsed.

Remembering that painful past, the old man raised his hand to cover his eyes. After a long moment, he finally lowered it and looked at the photo of his daughter beside him.

Wei: I don't know if I'll live long enough to see that day.

Wei: Perhaps I'll have to face Holly with regret and guilt.

Charlie: Please don't give up. I'll report the truth and bring justice to you and your daughter.

Wei: Thank you, thank you...

Wei: I've been fighting for twelve years, tried every possible method.

Wei: But no journalist dared to investigate this matter further, not a single one.

Charlie: Then let me do it. I'll do everything I can to expose the truth.

The old man looked at the burning determination in the young man's eyes and let out a long sigh. After a moment of silence, he spoke again.

Wei: Young man, there's something I've been curious about.

The old man took Charlie's hand in his.

Wei: You're just an intern reporter. Investigating this isn't your responsibility.

Wei: You might even get into trouble because of it.

Wei: Why are you helping me? I have nothing left. No one cares about this crazy old man anymore...

The old man's voice was filled with loneliness as he mumbled.

For years, he had been labeled a madman. No one was willing to approach this helpless soul, to listen to even a single word.

Charlie was suddenly reminded of that day in class. His classmates had scoffed at his dreams, but those pampered rich kids had no concept of the world outside their privileged bubbles.

In the worlds they couldn't see, there was so much blood and tears, pain and sorrow. So many people were waiting in the shadows, desperately needing help.

A wave of sadness washed over Charlie. He gently shook his head.

Charlie: There's no other reason, I simply want to do it.

Charlie: I want to help you get the justice you deserve.

Wei looked at his determined expression and unexpectedly smiled. He patted Charlie's shoulder.

Wei: Regardless, thank you, young man.

-

When Charlie left, twilight had already settled over the wasteland, but he was filled with a sense of purpose. He immediately returned home and began working on the report.

Due to the passage of time, the issue with the house itself was difficult to prove, but the close relationship between the governor's secretary and the government-backed developers was undeniable.

Charlie worked through the night, completing the report and submitting it, along with the photo, to his supervisor at the news station.

The supervisor glanced at the photo and nodded with satisfaction.

Supervisor: Good work, young man. I'll have someone verify this. It'll be published soon. You can go home and wait for news.

But a week passed, and there was no sign of the report being broadcast. When Charlie questioned him, his supervisor simply said they were still verifying the information.

One morning, Charlie received a call from his supervisor, inviting him to a lunch meeting at a hotel. When he pushed open the door to the private room, he saw a face he had seen countless times on screen.

Governor's Secretary: You must be the young master of the Zha family. I heard you're interning at the news station, quite impressive for someone your age.

Charlie always hated these polite formalities. He simply nodded and sat down.

The governor's secretary pulled out a photo—it was the one Charlie had taken. Charlie's eyes widened in shock.

Charlie: How did you get this photo?

Governor's Secretary: Thanks to your help, young master.

Governor's Secretary: The state government will be increasing investment in cultural industries soon, and your news station will be receiving significant support from us.

Charlie stared at the refined secretary, a man with an impeccable public image, as he slowly tore the photo into pieces and dropped them into his water glass.

The figures in the photo quickly blurred and faded, then disappeared completely.

The secretary continued talking, but Charlie could no longer hear him. The absurdity of the situation overwhelmed him, followed by an explosive rage.

His knuckles turned white as he clenched his fists, the cracking sound unable to quell the anger burning within him.

These well-dressed beasts so casually trampled on the lives of others.

The evidence he had painstakingly gathered was simply a bargaining chip for his supervisor, the truth he had desperately sought so easily crushed.

The crimson wine in his glass shimmered under the lights, but in Charlie's eyes, it was the blood of Holly, crushed by the collapsing ceiling, and the tears of the old man, helpless for over a decade.

Blood and tears staining the dust, silent and forgotten.

A feast was laid out before him, but all Charlie felt was disgust. He stood up and left.

-

Charlie stormed back to the news station and into his supervisor's office.

Supervisor: Come in.

Charlie: Did you give that photo to the governor's secretary?

Supervisor: What photo?

The supervisor smiled, sitting calmly in his leather chair, as if this were the most natural thing in the world.

Supervisor: I read your report. It's filled with subjective conjecture.

Supervisor: It violates the principles of journalistic integrity, so we can't broadcast it.

Supervisor: As an official media outlet, we have a responsibility.

Supervisor: We can't spread false information just for the sake of ratings. Do you understand?

Charlie stared at him, his voice firm.

Charlie: I don't understand.

Charlie: I only know that you don't deserve to be a journalist.

Charlie took off his press pass and threw it on the desk.

Supervisor: Think this through carefully. We were planning to offer you a position in our collaboration project with the government.

Charlie: I'll never become an accomplice like you.

-

Charlie couldn't sleep at all that night.

He sat by the window, staying up all night. He thought of the aging Wei, of the house that was about to disappear along with the truth, and buried his face in his hands, overwhelmed by a sense of helplessness.

This was Wei's last chance, and he decided to take a gamble for him.

Charlie sent the photo to every news outlet he could find, but it was like throwing a stone into the sea, there was no response.

He couldn't lie to himself any longer. He couldn't do anything, couldn't change anything. He couldn't face Wei.

But Wei didn't have much time left.

When news of the forced demolition came, Charlie rushed to the dilapidated house.

But he was too late.

Amidst the swirling dust, he saw the excavator's bucket slam down, tearing away chunks of the already decaying roof.

Charlie: No! There's someone inside! Stop!

He desperately tried to push his way through, but several people held him back.

Middle-aged man: There's no one inside. The old man is already dead.

Charlie: Impossible! He hasn't seen the truth yet—

"Crash!" Another blow, and half of the remaining wall crumbled.

The interior of the house was momentarily visible. The old man sat in his armchair, clutching his daughter's photo, his eyes closed.

"Crash!" The house completely collapsed.

Until his death, the old man never left that house, and he never saw justice served.

Charlie stood before the ruins, tears streaming down his face. It wasn't until someone handed him a tissue that he realized he was crying.

The small building was reduced to a pile of rubble. A fierce wind swept across the wasteland, carrying dark clouds that swallowed all the blood and tears, all traces of what had happened.

It was as if it had never happened at all.

But I will remember all this, Charlie thought, I'll never forget.

I'll keep waiting, waiting for the day I can speak up, to write this old man's story, to write about all the kindness and persistence, the darkness and injustice.

Charlie: I'll always remember.

-

9 Year Old. Midspring.

After a long stretch of rainy days, the first clear day always feels special. People emerge from their homes, enjoying the long-awaited sunshine on the lawns. Everything seems to radiate a vibrant energy.

At dusk, the clear sky was painted a brilliant red by the setting sun, a sight that had also been absent for a while.

Charlie initially thought that this was just an ordinary day after the long rainy season.

Having finished their shift, Charlie and Mark walked down the street, discussing the day's tasks and taking bites of their ice cream cones.

Charlie: I'm so lucky, they had double chocolate flavor today!

His joyful expression could have been straight out of an ice cream commercial, and Mark couldn't help but chuckle.

Mark: Only kids like that sort of thing.

Charlie: You're prejudiced!

Charlie: Here, have a taste. It's really good.

Mark smiled and shook his head.

Mark: No, thanks. It's too cold, my teeth will protest.

Charlie: Your teeth have been bothering you for a while now. Don't tell me you haven't gone to the dentist yet?

Mark: When would I have the time? Bruce is on paternity leave, and Vivian is preparing for her promotion assessment.

Mark: Not counting you volunteers, there are only six of us on shift.

Mark: If I take leave too, what if something happens? How are those newbies going to handle it?

Mark: Duty always comes first.

He licked a bit of the melting ice cream with a resigned expression, yet there was a hint of pride in his voice.

Charlie: If I had known, I wouldn't have gone to your place to see your goldfish today. I should have dragged you to the dentist instead.

Mark shrugged with a smile. Out of his firefighter uniform, his demeanor was more relaxed.

Mark: I'll definitely go see the dentist after work tomorrow if I'm free. Happy now?

Charlie: Remember what you said. If you don't go, I'm stealing your goldfish.

When they were just a block away from Mark's house, their phones rang simultaneously.

Dispatcher: A fire has broken out at a chemical plant on Blink Street. Please return to the fire station immediately. Repeat—

Mark's expression instantly turned serious. He stopped and turned to head back. Charlie tried to follow, but Mark stopped him.

Mark: You're a volunteer. You're not required to participate in emergency situations. Just head home.

Charlie: Be careful.

Mark: I will. You can come over and see the goldfish another time.

Mark patted his shoulder, then hailed a taxi.

Watching Mark rush off, Charlie finished his ice cream cone in one bite, suddenly feeling disappointed.

Even a rare moment of respite is interrupted by another call to duty, he grumbled inwardly.

On the way home, he opened his phone, and news reports about the fire were already popping up. The shaky footage showed raging flames and the occasional flash of an explosion.

Several firetrucks sped past him, sirens blaring, echoing through the city. The situation seemed urgent.

Although he was just a volunteer, he couldn't just ignore this.

Charlie stopped heading home and hailed a taxi.

Charlie: To Blink Street.

-

The taxi was stuck in traffic a block away from the fire. Charlie could already see the flames and thick smoke billowing through the window.

Charlie: This is bad.

Charlie: I'll get out here.

He paid the fare and rushed towards the scene, pushing past the crowds of people evacuating.

Why are there so many people evacuating? Charlie wondered, glancing around. He realized that the area surrounding the chemical plant was densely populated with residential buildings.

A sense of foreboding washed over him, but there was no time to dwell on it. The situation at the fire was critical.

Arriving at the entrance to the plant, he was met with chaos, people running around in a panic. He quickly scanned the area, but didn't see Mark.

He grabbed a member of the logistics team.

Charlie: What's the situation with the fire crew?

Logistics: They've already gone in, in groups. They've rescued a lot of trapped people.

Logistics: But there are still a few firefighters inside.

Charlie's heart sank. Just as he was about to ask more questions, several anxious residents rushed towards them, trying to break through the cordon.

Man: My wife is still inside! Please save her! She's pregnant!

Charlie stopped the man, who was waving his fists frantically.

Charlie: Calm down! The fire crew is doing everything they can!

He turned to the logistics person.

Charlie: Where's Mark?

Logistics: He went into Building One. He hasn't come back out yet.

Charlie: How long has he been in there?

Logistics: Over an hour.

Charlie: That's too long. Something might have happened! I request to join the rescue!

Without waiting for a response, Charlie immediately put on his gear and jumped into a firetruck, trying to contact Mark using the radio.

Charlie: Mark, do you copy? Do you copy?

Static crackled through the radio. After a long pause, Mark's voice finally came through, his breathing heavy.

Mark: Cough, cough... This is Mark.

Charlie: What's the situation?

Mark: Not good. I found a pregnant woman unconscious in the bathroom on the seventh floor of Building One. I'm bringing her out now.

Mark: The situation in there is complicated. It'll take some time.

Charlie: I'm coming to help you!

Mark: Don't be reckless. You're not qualified to participate in a chemical fire rescue yet.

Charlie: But—

Mark: Charlie, trust me, don't be impulsive.

Charlie: Okay, I'll report to the commander.

Charlie: You have to come back safely.

On the other end of the radio, Mark gave a raspy chuckle.

Mark: Of course. I'll bring everyone out safely.

After ending the call, Charlie immediately found the commander and quickly reported the situation with Mark and the trapped pregnant woman.

Commander: Understood. We'll send more people to assist with the rescue.

Charlie nodded. The commander turned to the plant manager with a serious expression.

Commander: The fire has spread to the warehouse area.

Commander: The chemicals stored there will release toxic fumes when they burn. We have to contain the fire as soon as possible.

Commander: Are there any water-reactive chemicals stored in the warehouse?

Manager: No! Our production and storage strictly adhere to regulations. There are no such chemicals!

Commander: Can you guarantee that?

Manager: I can guarantee it!

The soot-covered manager gritted his teeth and answered firmly.

The commander relaxed slightly and instructed Charlie to assist with evacuating the remaining factory employees, waiting for the other rescue team to arrive.

The pregnant woman's husband refused to leave, so Charlie could only evacuate the others first.

The air was thick with acrid smoke, the fire crackling and popping. Thick black smoke loomed over them like a dark cloud.

Charlie glanced back, an uneasy feeling rising within him. He quickly waved his arms.

Charlie: Run! Quickly!

Boom—!

Just then, a deafening explosion drowned out all other sounds. A powerful shockwave sent everyone sprawling.

The blinding white light illuminated the night sky as if it were daytime. In that instant, no one understood what had just happened.

Charlie's vision went blank. It wasn't until a few seconds later that he realized the severity of the situation and scrambled to his feet.

A ringing filled his ears. The plant manager lay on the ground, his face ashen as he looked up. Charlie could read his lips.

He was saying, "It's over, it's all over."

In that moment, Charlie felt like he had been plunged into an icy abyss. A bone-chilling fear spread through him.

Why was there an explosion?

Didn't they say there were no water-reactive chemicals stored there?!

Who was lying?!

Charlie: ...Mark, Mark is still inside!

Blood rushed to his head, making him dizzy. He immediately got up and ran towards the factory.

A few hands reached out, futilely trying to stop him, but Charlie no longer cared.

In just a few minutes, the front of the factory had become a scene of chaos. The metal gates were blown several meters away, and workers and rescue personnel lay scattered on the ground.

The groans of the injured reached Charlie's ears. Ignoring his fear, he found the commander by the firetruck.

The truck had shielded the commander from the brunt of the blast, so he only had minor injuries that he had quickly bandaged before resuming his duties, shouting orders to the remaining firefighters.

Charlie: Where was the explosion?

Commander: The warehouse! The warehouse exploded! Backup from the fire station will be here soon!

Charlie: Mark isn't out yet! He's still in Building One! It's close to the warehouse...

Charlie's composure momentarily faltered, but he quickly regained control. Mark's life was on the line, and rescuing him was the priority.

Charlie swiftly put on his protective gear and rushed into the office building.

-

All the windows in this building had been shattered by the explosion, the wall facing the warehouse was cracked, and the ceiling of the hallway was starting to crumble.

The fire doors in the hallway had managed to contain the flames somewhat, but thick smoke obscured his vision, and Charlie had to feel his way along the walls as he climbed the stairs.

Charlie: Mark! Mark! Where are you?!

His voice echoed through the empty hallway, the only reply his own voice.

On the stairs leading to the fourth floor, Charlie tripped over something. He rushed over and found Mark lying unconscious, the pregnant woman beside him.

They were covered in blood from the shards of glass embedded in their bodies. Mark's gas mask was on the woman's face, while he only had a cloth covering his own, offering little protection.

Charlie immediately yelled into his communicator.

Charlie: Mark, Mark! They're here! I found them! Requesting backup!

A few minutes later, other rescuers arrived. They carried the pregnant woman, and Charlie carefully lifted Mark onto his back, carrying him downstairs.

The man on his back was heavy, but unresponsive. Fear gripped Charlie, fear of the worst possible outcome, but he pushed it down.

He felt a warm liquid trickle down his face and tasted the saltiness on his lips.

An ambulance arrived, taking Mark and the pregnant woman away. Charlie stayed to assist with the rescue efforts.

-

The fire wasn't completely extinguished until dawn. The chemical plant was reduced to a skeletal frame, like the remains of a fallen giant.

It was the longest night he could remember. A strong wind blew through the streets, biting at his face.

Charlie rushed to the hospital, his uniform tattered and covered in soot and blood.

Then he saw the red light above the operating room door, the one that signaled "Surgery in Progress."

The red light reminded him of the setting sun, slowly fading away.

Just a few hours ago, under that setting sun, didn't Mark promise to show me his goldfish...? Charlie thought vaguely.

Mark's parents were already there, sitting outside the operating room, their hands clasped in prayer, their faces etched with grief.

But fate wasn't kind to them. After an entire night of emergency treatment, both Mark and the pregnant woman were pronounced dead, succumbing to the trauma of the explosion and the inhalation of toxic gases.

When the death notices arrived, Charlie's tightly clenched hands fell powerlessly to his sides. The bloodstains on his hands had dried. He had failed.

His best friend was gone. The fire department mandated that he take some time off, and Charlie's life fell into an empty routine.

From dawn till dusk, the TV screen in the living room flickered with news about the fire, its light reflecting in his unseeing eyes.

The state government officials visited Mark's family that day, offering condolences and compensation to his elderly parents, and posthumously honoring Mark as a hero of the city.

They looked even more haggard than they had at the hospital, the gleaming medal unable to offer any comfort.

But soon, a different voice emerged—

Husband of the Pregnant Woman: The firefighters are the ones who caused this disaster!

Husband of the Pregnant Woman: If they hadn't recklessly used water to extinguish the fire without confirming the situation, the warehouse wouldn't have exploded!

Husband of the Pregnant Woman: My poor wife and my unborn child... I have to get justice for them!

On the TV screen, the husband's tearful accusations filled the air. Watching his grief-stricken face, Charlie felt a wave of confusion.

He remembered that night in the burn unit, the two cold white lights above the doors of the intensive care unit, one for each patient.

The two families, united in their despair... and just a few days later, they were pointing fingers at each other.

Why? Why is this happening? Charlie repeatedly asked himself.

There were no answers. The situation spiraled in an unexpected direction.

Within days, these accusations spread like wildfire, growing more and more intense. Then, the commander, unable to defend himself, resigned, which was met with cheers from the public.

The state government seized this opportunity to launch a series of fire safety campaigns and drills, earning praise from the citizens.

Everything seemed to be fine. For most people, the victims were just distant names and numbers, quickly forgotten.

No one cared about the truth anymore, no one truly cared about the two victims who had lost their lives.

The investigation report concluded that it was a major industrial accident caused by negligence, and a few insignificant figures were punished.

No, this shouldn't be the end, Charlie thought.

He remembered the crowds evacuating from Blink Street that day.

The report didn't mention why the chemical plant was built in a densely populated residential area, a clear violation of regulations regarding hazardous materials storage.

And no one bothered to investigate the true cause of the explosion.

Charlie compiled the news reports, meticulously listing the inconsistencies and unanswered questions. But as the question marks filled the page, he realized there was no way for him to investigate further.

The only thing he could think of was contacting the commander who had resigned. With his help, he found the factory manager who had been on site that day.

-

Charlie met him in a small, dilapidated house. Like the commander, he had also been fired.

Factory Manager: It was my negligence, it had nothing to do with the factory.

Charlie: Do you know that your negligence caused the deaths of two people?! They could have lived!

Factory Manager: I'm sorry, it's all my fault.

He bowed deeply. His apology sounded hollow compared to the weight of those lost lives, but Charlie knew this was all he could do.

Charlie looked at him silently, as if seeing an invisible hand forcing his head down.

His anger and frustration had nowhere to go.

This man was just an insignificant accomplice. Charlie suddenly realized that he would probably never be able to reach the true culprit.

The firefighters and the factory manager bore all the blame, and the incident was swept under the rug. "Justice" had been served.

The next time a fire broke out, firefighters would still silently rush towards the flames, against the flow of fleeing crowds.

But the future seemed predictable. More sacrifices would be made, passionate blood burning into pale ash.

Nothing had changed.

-

Mark's funeral was scheduled for a week later. Charlie went to visit his parents.

At their house, he found them caring for Mark's wife, who was still unconscious.

She had lost her husband before even waking up.

The grey-haired old woman, carrying a basin of water, came out of her daughter-in-law's room and saw Charlie standing at the door. She looked at him hesitantly.

Mark's Mother: Are you...?

Charlie: I'm Mark's friend, Charlie.

Mark's Mother: Ah, you must be Charlie. Mark often spoke of you...

Charlie took the water basin from her hands and set it aside, helping her to sit down. The old woman sighed softly.

Mark's Mother: He said you were a righteous and brave young man. And it seems he was right.

Mark's Mother: He didn't think you would last long, but you proved him wrong about young people these days.

Charlie felt a lump forming in his throat.

Charlie: But Mark, he—

He shouldn't have died, he wanted to say, but the words felt heavy, a bitter taste rising in his throat. He wasn't sure if he should burden this grieving mother with the cruel truth.

The old woman, seeing his hesitation, seemed to understand and gently patted his hand, shaking her head.

Mark's Mother: I know, my child. He was still so young, this shouldn't have been his fate...

Tears welled up in her aged eyes, and she choked back a sob, unable to continue.

Charlie held her hand. The cold moonlight streamed through the window, illuminating them, two lonely figures, an echo of the tragedy's aftermath.

Finally, the old woman simply patted Charlie's shoulder, a familiar gesture, just like Mark's farewell that day.

Mark's Mother: Charlie, dear boy, you be careful too...

Charlie raised his head slightly, but tears still escaped his eyes.

Before leaving, Mark's mother gave him the goldfish tank. The red betta fish swam happily in the water, its flowing fins like the brilliant sunset that evening.

They had planned to watch the goldfish together, but now, only Charlie remained.

He stood on the street, looking up at the gloomy sky. Dark clouds covered the city, like the silent, decaying ashes after a fire.

He had thought that bright, sunny day would be the end of the rainy season, but after that fleeting sunset, the endless rain continued to pour over this city.

He wondered when the light would finally break through.

Perhaps tomorrow, perhaps never.

-

9 Years Ago. Early Autumn.

That was when I realized that my life was a lie.

It wasn't until I was nineteen that I realized my life had been a lie.

When the heavy iron door of the psychiatric hospital swung open, I couldn't help but feel a tremor in my heart. Although I was reluctant to admit it, I was afraid.

But I couldn't be afraid. I was a future doctor, someone they should be able to trust. And besides, those with mental illnesses weren't the "crazy" or "insane" people that many perceived them to be. They were simply patients, suffering from an illness that caused them pain and wasn't understood by society. With that thought, I stepped through the heavy door.

Unlike what I had imagined, aside from the thickness of the door, there was nothing unusual about this place. Just like any other hospital, nurses bustled through the corridors, occasionally passing by with patients who moved with a stiff fragility, like saplings awaiting transplantation.

Just then, I heard a scream. I followed the sound and arrived at an activity room. A man stood inside, shouting commands at the air with a serious expression: "Hello, apple, make way!" Suddenly, it was as if countless shards of glass were falling, and people cried out, making way for him.

He made a circle with his arms, holding it in front of his chest as he walked to the front of the room, then lowered his hands and straightened his back like a soldier, his arms tracing a perfect arc in the air.

Everyone instinctively walked forward and formed a straight line, a line more orderly and solemn than any I had ever seen. I finally understood. He was "selling" air.

In his world, that air was called "apples."

Then, I saw a familiar face. Although he had aged, I couldn't mistake him. It was the man who had "kidnapped" me. He stood at the end of the long line, waiting with the others to receive his apple. When it was his turn, he cupped his hands together carefully, as if holding a newborn baby.

Long-dormant memories stirred, and the image of that apple from ten years ago appeared before me.

He had walked past me, holding the apple, his face etched with the hardships of life. He had glanced at me, then looked away. I wondered what he had been thinking at that moment. Had he thought I looked familiar?

I ran to my supervisor's office and asked for the man's medical records. The first page contained only two sentences, stating that he had committed the crime of kidnapping and was admitted for treatment for schizophrenia. Everything seemed to match what my father had said. If I didn't read any further, it would all be normal.

But then I saw the stack of papers behind it, filled with messy handwriting. It was his diary. It read: I shouldn't have kidnapped that child. How could I be so naïve as to think that I could get an explanation from him that way, force him to admit that it was the side effects of his company's drug that killed my daughter? I'm the murderer in our family.

Later, I thought about it for a long time and finally realized where I went wrong. I shouldn't have bought that medicine. If I hadn't, none of this would have happened. I'm so sorry.

But it's too late now. I'm in this concentration camp of a place. They all look at me strangely, saying I'm sick, that I need treatment. I think they're the ones who are sick. I'm just different. Every day, the nurse waves those pills at me, watching me swallow them. It makes me feel like a dog.

He repeated that last sentence on every page. How can I prove that I'm not sick? Until one day, he wrote something completely different. He said: I'm finally normal now.

As I read, the words seemed to blur, the paper started bleeding, then it shattered into pieces, turning into fruit fly wings that filled my mouth and nose. I lost the ability to think, to speak, to even breathe. My knees buckled, and I collapsed.

Can someone tell me the truth? Am I the real murderer?

I looked up and saw an impenetrable, transparent wall. It was shaped like a vase.

I had lived in this vase he crafted for nineteen years, and all those years, I was a flower with its roots severed. I thought that clear shell was an iceberg I would one day reach, I thought the air I breathed was the wind, I thought the nutrient solution was soil.

The dream I desperately chased was simply a drop of blood from the wound he inflicted when pruning the leaves.

And I realized, his intention all along was simply to create the perfect masterpiece.

That night, I dreamt of that cabin from ten years ago. It was surrounded by a waterfall, and I sat inside, watching the water cascade endlessly. From that day on, the sound of the waterfall never left my ears.

-

9 Years Ago. Early Winter.

I hear fish only have a three-second memory. I'm so jealous.

Butler: Welcome home, Young Master.

Butler: Did Dr. Alan offer you any advice today?

Charlie: He didn't say much.

Charlie: I'm going to my room. No need to call me for dinner.

Charlie: Does seeing a therapist actually help...?

Charlie: Who is it?

Butler: Young Master, Linda made your favorite cookies, and she also prepared hot chocolate and—

Charlie: No need to trouble yourself, Uncle Ji. I don't have an appetite today.

Butler: Young Master, please eat something. We're all worried about you.

Charlie: I promise, I'm fine.

Charlie: I just want to be alone for a while.

Butler: Then I'll leave the snacks outside your door. You can have them whenever you like.

Butler: Take care of yourself, Young Master.

Charlie: What is there to worry about? Skipping one meal won't hurt me.

Charlie: But there are so many people in this world who don't even have one meal to eat.

Charlie: Their cries aren't even heard...

Charlie: Little goldfish, how have you been lately?

Charlie: I hear fish only have a three-second memory. You're so lucky.

Charlie: You've probably already forgotten about Mark.

Charlie: He said he was so flustered when he first got you. You probably don't remember that either.

Charlie: I wish I could be like you, forgetting everything.

Charlie: Then I wouldn't remember Wei's house, wouldn't remember Mark's death, or the person who was sent to the mental hospital because of me...

Charlie: And... and my mother, when she died...

Charlie: ...Where's my medicine? Where is it?

Charlie: Why does my head still hurt so much... Does this medication even work?

Charlie: Maybe those people were right. I'm just making things difficult for myself.

Charlie: I said I wanted to "save people." I thought I was helping them, that I could save them. But in the end, they all died before my eyes.

Charlie: I couldn't do anything...

Charlie: I was just fulfilling my own empty dreams, playing the hero, pretending I could protect them, save them.

Charlie: But when it came down to it, I realized I couldn't do anything at all.

Charlie: I couldn't help them, and I couldn't change the deeply rooted darkness...

Charlie: Why do these things keep happening? Why is it so hard to find the truth?

Charlie: Sometimes I wonder, what is fairness? There's no such thing as fairness in life.

Charlie: Most people are just ants with free will.

Charlie: Then what about me? What am I? Am I a good person, or a bad person?

Charlie: If I forget those memories, will it stop hurting?

Charlie: Am I even truly alive right now?

Charlie: I remember... I think I read about a method somewhere.

Charlie: This is it.

Charlie: No one understands me better than myself. And I won't let anyone else define who I am.

Charlie: Maybe therapists can't save me. The only one I can rely on is myself.

Charlie: Close your eyes... relax.

Charlie: Who am I? I'm Charlie...

Charlie: The path I've chosen isn't wrong. I'm right.

Charlie: I'm not sad, I'm happy.

Charlie: I'm not afraid. I can still save people. I can still help others.

Charlie: I am... I can...

Charlie: No, it's not working. I don't believe it.

Charlie: This is just self-deception. If I pretend I don't see it, does that mean it's not there?

Charlie: How can I make it work...

Charlie: A few more tries... Can I do it?

-

8 Years Ago. Spring.

Charlie: Good morning. You look good today.

Charlie: Good morning, Charlie.

Charlie: You look good today.

Charlie: Didn't sleep well last night. Maybe it's too early to start reducing the medication.

Charlie: Dr. Alan told me that human memory isn't as reliable as we think.

Charlie: I suppose that's true.

Charlie: Like he said, humans are addicted to emotions and the stimulation they bring, so we keep reinforcing our own struggles with difficulties and problems.

Charlie: What a strange phenomenon.

Charlie: But there's a way to escape those struggles, and that's to deceive the brain, to change our own memories.

Charlie: Memories can be distorted and confused through various mechanisms, so all I need to do is keep repeating the same thing in my mind, keep imagining...

Charlie: As long as it's real enough, detailed enough, my brain won't be able to distinguish between imagination and reality.

Charlie: It will blur the lines between the two and create new memories.

Charlie: So what I'm doing is right.

Charlie: You're right, Charlie. All you need to do is re-imprint those good memories in your mind.

Charlie: You can forget some of the past, stop letting those struggles control you.

Charlie: Everything will be fine. Those things won't happen again, and no one else will leave you.

Charlie: When you start to love yourself, you can love life too. And I can definitely do that.

Charlie: I can live like a happy person. I can continue chasing my dreams.

Charlie: Remember, I'm happy. I won't be troubled by anything. I'm going to "save people"...

Charlie: It's not that difficult. I can definitely do it. After all, I'm Charlie. I'm perfect.

Charlie: Okay, perfect state of mind now. Time to go out.

Charlie: No... Again...

Charlie: Charlie, it's another perfect day!

Charlie: Why isn't this working today? It always worked before.

Charlie: Again.

Charlie: Charlie, think about those happy memories, tell yourself you still have them...

Charlie: I'm Charlie. I have endless wealth and the happiest family in the world.

Charlie: My mother, she was a very gentle person. She would always tell me that too many sweets were bad for my teeth, then buy me a chocolate ice cream cone anyway.

Charlie: She would tell me that the teacher scolded me for my own good, then go to the school and beg the teacher to be gentler next time.

Charlie: My father... he loved my mother very much.

Charlie: I rummaged through his drawer once, and it was filled with Mom's discarded hair ties, half-finished juice boxes, fallen eyelashes... He kept everything.

Charlie: And I have a good friend, Mark. He was like my first teacher. He went to a faraway place and hasn't called, but I know he'll come back.

Charlie: I've never faced any hardships in my life. Everything has always gone smoothly. I can achieve anything I want. It's enviable, really.

Charlie: Well, there's no helping it. The world needs someone as perfect as me.

Charlie: Good morning, Charlie!

Charlie: You seem to be in great shape today.

Charlie: I woke up feeling happy. I even managed to sleep through the night without dreaming. Perhaps it's because I received some good news.

Charlie: Last semester's grades, as expected, were the highest in the entire school.

Charlie: It's nothing special for me, of course, but it's still something to be proud of.

Charlie: Even my professors must be impressed by my perfect answers. As expected of someone with such a high IQ.

Charlie: Sometimes, receiving too much praise is a bit overwhelming, it's quite the conundrum.

Charlie: Charlie, oh Charlie, you're so perfect.

Charlie: You're perfect. You can achieve anything. What you're doing is right.

Charlie: Now, you've finally done it.

-

PHONE CALL

You (SMS): Charlie, I think I have a strange illness...

Charlie: Uncle Ji is preparing the car. I'll be right there.

You: Ah...

Charlie: Don't panic. What are your symptoms? Are you having trouble breathing?

You: No, don't worry! I feel fine!

Charlie: Whew, that's good. You scared me.

You: Sorry, my message wasn't clear.

Charlie: Why are you being so formal with your fiancé? You should reflect on this for three seconds.

Charlie: Three, two, one. Okay, I forgive you.

Charlie: Now tell me, what symptoms are making you think you're sick?

You: Sometimes, when I'm sleeping, my body suddenly twitches, and I wake up.

You: I searched online, and it said that it's my brain testing if I'm dead...

You: But I don't feel anything else unusual. Why would I be dying?

Charlie: My fiancée, you're so cute.

You: Hmph, I'm being serious!

Charlie: Okay, then let me ask you, do you feel any headaches or dizziness when your body twitches?

You: Let me think... I don't think so.

Charlie: Then there's no need to worry. What you're experiencing is called a hypnic jerk. It's a normal physiological phenomenon.

You: Oh, is that all?

Charlie: However, it's worth paying attention to when it happens to you.

Charlie: Fiancée, have you been under a lot of stress at work lately?

You: How did you know?

You: Yeah, we've been working crazy overtime these past few weeks for the fashion show.

Charlie: I knew it. Hypnic jerks happen because you're overworked, and your brain is constantly tense.

You: Oh~ That explains why it's been happening more often lately.

Charlie: That's not a good sign.

Charlie: I know you love your work, but you need to take care of yourself.

You: Okay, okay. Didn't you already examine my last health checkup report with a microscope? I'm perfectly healthy!

Charlie: Those numbers don't tell the whole story...

Charlie: Ah, sorry, I didn't mean to stress you out by going on about this.

You: No, no, I know you're just worried about me.

You: I'll definitely take care of myself! You too! Being a doctor isn't any less stressful than being a designer.

Charlie: Of course, I'm very health-conscious.

Charlie: After all, we still have so many things to do together. For the sake of our happy future, I'll definitely take good care of myself.

Charlie: And besides, I'm sure "good health of both husband and wife" is one of the criteria for Guangqi City's Model Couple award.

You: Good point. Then I'll focus on health and wellness with you from now on!

Charlie: That's the spirit. But no need to wait until later, we can start now.

You: Huh? Wait... I see your car! Did you come to my place again?

Charlie: Mm-hmm. Although you're not seriously ill, you need to relax.

Charlie: The big show just ended, you shouldn't have to work overtime today, right?

You: Right!

Charlie: Excellent. Open the door, your happy pill is here to deliver some joy.

-

TEXT MESSAGE

Charlie: My dear, I wrote you an acrostic poem. You: You can write poetry? Dr. Zha is so cultured! I'm excited to see it! Charlie: Of course! I'm a core member of our hospital's "Ancient Rhymes, Modern Voices" poetry club. Charlie: But today's acrostic poem is extraordinary. Behold: Charlie: I Charlie: Love Charlie: You You: Oh~ I think I get it. You're trying to say you love me, no need to hide it? Charlie: You got it! Charlie: As expected, my fiancée truly understands me. Charlie: I took the liberty of modifying the format of the acrostic poem, because my love for you simply can't be contained. You: Honestly, you're unbelievable. This poem reminds me of a quote: "You can't hide your love for someone. Even if you cover your mouth, it will still escape from your eyes." Charlie: That's a good one. Charlie (Voice MSG): No wonder my fiancée's eyes always sparkle when she looks at me. Charlie (Voice MSG): It's the love shining in your eyes.

TIMELINE POST

Charlie: Seeing my fiancée after a night shift is more effective than any energy drink.

You: Then I'll pick you up from work next time~

Charlie's Reply: A dawn rendezvous has its own unique charm.

.

.

.

.

.

Chapter 15-01

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[bi-bard]

Drunk Mess - Bobby Bronson Imagine (Roar)

Title: Drunk Mess

Pairing: Bobby Bronson X Reader

Word Count: 818 words

Warning(s): drunk character

Summary: A tired, very messy cop finds himself paired with one of the most determined people in the world. They refuse to allow him to go further down the spiral than he already was.

Author's Note: Hey, look! It's another Hugh Dancy character! Who's surprised? What's that? Absolutely no one? Yeah, didn't think so.

This is so short and completely self-indulgent, but oh well.

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

I frowned as my call to Bobby went to voicemail again.

It had been the third or fourth call and there was still no answer.

"Hey, do you have Bobby's address," I asked Chris. "He won't answer me."

"He's fine, probably just hungover," Chris shrugged.

"I don't care, I'm going to check on him," I crossed my arms. "Current address. Please."

I found myself walking up to the door of some small apartment complex awkwardly. I held my hand up, ready to knock on the door. But I paused.

Was this weird?

Was this too much concern for a partner?

No. This was healthy. What if he was hurt? What if he was on his floor, begging for help with no one there for him? No. Yeah. This was perfectly fine.

I knocked on the door.

There was a long pause before the door finally got pulled open.

"(Y/n)?"

"Hey," I said awkwardly. "Umm, you weren't answering my calls. I was worried about you."

"Well, I'm alive."

I just nodded.

"Come on, come have a drink!"

The door swung open the rest of the way and he stumbled away.

"Bobby, are you drunk," I asked.

"That's why I want you to have a drink," he replied. "Don't want to be the only one drunk."

I walked in slowly, closing the door behind me. "How much have you had?"

"Why would I count?"

I watched him take another long swig of whatever he had. I sighed and walked over, taking the bottle away. He tried to protest, but I held my hand up.

"No, no," I shook my head. "I try to not judge you because you've seen some shit, but this... this is too far."

"You don't get to decide that-"

"Please just lay down," I glanced around the trashed apartment. "I'll... We can talk about the case when you wake up. Just please."

"What, you wanna save me?"

"I didn't say that-"

"No, because that's what you do, right," he asked, stepping closer to me. "(Y/n): the hero cop?"

"Oh, for fuck's sake," I muttered. "Go to bed."

"Wanna help me? Come lay with me then."

"Oh God..."

He leaned closer to me. I almost gagged at the smell of alcohol on his breath.

"I'm sorry."

I brought my knee to hit him in the crotch. He groaned, bending over slightly.

"Sorry, sorry, sorry," I continued mumbling as I guided him to the couch.

He awkwardly flopped onto his side. His face went from contorted in pain to relaxed slowly. He had fallen asleep. I let out a sigh before grabbing a weird blanket off the back that he definitely didn't buy for himself and throwing it over him.

I went around trying to put the apartment somewhat together. Clothes in the basket, trash thrown away, things just put away. I found some ibuprofen in the cupboard, so I left it on the counter with a glass of water.

It felt weird. I wanted to be nice to him, and we're partners so it's not like I'm a stranger. But it was still weird to try and help him while he was passed out on his couch.

I heard a groan while I was washing dishes. I ignored it, just going about my business.

"You cleaned."

I looked over at him and grinned, nodding.

"You need me in the balls."

"You tried to kiss me and lure me to bed," I replied.

"Right," he muttered.

"I left some water and ibuprofen on the counter."

There was a pause. I assumed that it was him taking the meds.

"I'm sorry about that," he said after the pause. "I shouldn't have done that."

"It's fine," I shrugged, placing the last dish to the side and turning to him. "I... I only did a bit of cleaning. I just... thought it would be less stressful."

"Thank you," he nodded, rubbing the sleep out of his head. "You were calling earlier. Some update with the case?"

"Nothing major," I shook my head. "You... You didn't show up and I got worried."

"Aw," his tone was teasing. "You were worried about me."

"I always worry about you. You're my partner."

He just grinned at me. I nodded and walked away from the sink. I wasn't sure what I was going to do next. I was hoping to escape.

"I should take you out to dinner," he suggested when I was halfway through the living room. I turned around. "Or we could get something sent here. Just as a thank you for taking care of me."

"Just a thank you," I asked. He nodded. "I don't believe you."

"Good because I'm a shitty liar."

I laughed and shook my head. "This time... we'll call it colleagues having dinner."

"And next time?"

"Cross that bridge when we get to it."

Bobby smiled at me. "Deal."

Dinner between colleagues. That's all it was.

For now.

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

Author's Note: My favorite hobby is bullying myself for my crush on Hugh Dancy's characters.

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

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[avengerscompound]

Small Gods: Spring Thaw - 8

Spring Thaw:  A Bucky Barnes Fanfic

Spring Thaw Masterlist | More Small Gods PREVIOUS //

Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing:  Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Rating: E

Word Count:  1931

Warnings: Mentions of Bucky’s mental health.  Smut (MF, vaginal sex)

Synopsis: Bucky Barnes hates winter.  He always looks for the first signs of the ice thawing and new life growing.  When that desire for the end of winter brings to him the god of the spring thaw, he discovers a brand new reason to get through winter.

Chapter 8

Bucky had never expected to ever want to chase winter.  He put up with winter mostly because the heat was unbearable when you spent all your time in a leather jacket with matching gloves - not to mention how fucking hot his metal arm could get under the sun.  He was always glad winter was over and he felt like he could breathe again, and the thought of moving more and more north to avoid that endpoint would have been crazy to him even two years ago.

Yet here he was, not only chasing the winter but enjoying it.  Moments where he let himself just be an average everyday guy, were so rare since he broke free from HYDRA.  There was Wakanda and the time he spent with Sam and his family, but those moments were few and far between and this was the first time he’d ever allowed himself to have an actual vacation where there wasn’t at least some busy work to do to keep his mind and body occupied.

This trip with you was pure relaxation.  There were cozy dinners out, and walking through stores hand-in-hand.  There was kissing under lamp posts while soft flakes of snow fell and caught in your hair and eyelashes, only to melt and disappear.  There was cuddling in bed or on couches in front of roaring fireplaces and breakfasts with eccentric B&B owners who wanted to regale him with their stories of Burning Man.  There was drinking warm apple cider while taking shelter under canopies to keep warm. 

There was you and Bucky, taking the time to get to know each other and chasing the winter for as long as you both could.

Saguenay was a cute little city that there was no way that Bucky would have visited by chance.  He couldn’t imagine there’d be any reason HYDRA would have sent him here, and he was quite happy to be exploring it with you.  While there was no shortage of cute French-style bistros and even an actual vegan restaurant, Bucky had booked a serviced apartment with a full kitchen.  It was a quaint little place with a fireplace and an A-frame ceiling and Bucky had been spending some of the remaining time with you trying out vegan recipes that he would search up on the internet.  They didn’t always go well, but god it felt normal to try.  Being in the little apartment with the fire going and the TV on while he cooked, Bucky could almost pretend it was permanent.

“Bucky, I think it might be tonight,” you said, crawling into bed with him.

He looked up from his phone and frowned.  “What does it feel like?”

“I feel like I’m fading.  Like if I go to pick something up I won’t be able to,” you explained.  “And I can feel a call on the other side of the world.  I won’t be there long and then I’ll be gone until winter ends in the Southern Hemisphere.  But this time here, if it’s not tonight it will be sometime tomorrow.”

Bucky put his phone aside and wrapped you in his arms.  “I’ll stay awake with you.”

You snuggled into him.  “I wish I could give you something normal.”

Bucky smiled and kissed your temple.  “I wish that I could give you something normal too.  I might need to channel some of my therapy here…”

“Okay,” you said, pulling back to look at him.

“There is no such thing as normal,” he said.  “I like you, and I like this.  Maybe that’s good enough.”

You smiled and leaned in, kissing him tenderly. Your hands moved into his hair and tightened as you pulled him closer to you.  He moved willingly, rolling so he was slightly above you as he deepened the kiss.  He tilted his head and used his tongue to coax your lips apart.  You hummed as you brought your tongue to his and they circled together.

There was no urgency to the kissing.  It was slow and tender, yet full of passion.  He wrapped an arm around you and held you flush against him.  You arched your back and hummed softly into his lips.

Bucky’s skin buzzed and his cock twitched and hardened in his pants.  Your hands ran up under his shirt and over his back.  You broke the kiss just long enough to pull his t-shirt off and as soon as you’d tossed it aside he was kissing you again.

He started rolling his hips against you as he unbuttoned your pajama top.  His cock strained against your thigh and a wet patch formed on his crotch.  You pushed his pants down and wriggled out of yours, never once breaking the kiss.

Bucky’s lips started to feel numb and his head felt fuzzy and he moaned softly.  You spread your legs and pulled him down between them, and began to roll your hips so his cock moved up and down your soaking folds.

You angled your hips up and the head of his cock caught on your entrance, and with one fluid movement, he thrust inside of you.

You moaned loudly and dug your fingers into his back.

“God, Bucky,” you moaned as your core tightened around him.  “You feel so good.”

“You do too,” he rumbled, holding himself in place so his cock was engulfed completely by your cunt.

You kissed him again and he slowly began to thrust.  Each roll of his hips he dragged his cock up, so the base dragged over your clit.  You moaned into his lips and rolled your hips with him, clenching your walls so it milked him.

His lips moved along your jaw to your neck.  “If I mark you, will it still be there when you show up somewhere else?”  He mumbled against your skin.

“Try it and see,” you groaned.

He sucked on your neck, pressing his teeth against your skin.  You gasped and bucked up under him.  “Oh, Bucky,” you gasped, and began to move your hips faster.

He matched your pace, fucking you deeper and faster.  You clenched around him and arched your back.  Your nipples felt like little pebbles against his skin and he leaned down and pulled one into his mouth.

You mewled and threw your head back, jerking under him.

Bucky’s balls began to tighten and his cock throbbed.  “Bucky,” you moaned. “Bucky I’m close.”

“I’m right there with you,” he groaned.

You cupped his jaw and guided him back up to you.  He pressed his forehead against yours and as he thrust into you, again and again, he started breathing heavily, his breath mingling with yours.

Your cunt began to flutter as you looked deep into his eyes and you rock quickly under him. “Oh god… Bucky… yes!”  You cried and came, your body seizing up and your cunt pulsing around his cock.

It was all Bucky could take, he jerked forward, and with a groan, he released, emptying inside you.

You stayed joined, pressed together, breathing in the other���s exhaled breath, and ever so slowly as his cock softened, Bucky slipped from within you.

“Gonna miss you,” Bucky whispered, caressing your cheek with his thumb.

“Are you going to go back to work?”  You asked.

He nodded.  “Yeah.  Got things to do, things to make up for.”

“I’m glad you took this time to be with me.”

He smiled and closed his eyes, nuzzling at your cheek.  “Me too.”

“You can sleep if you want to,” you assured him, playing with his hair.

He shook his head and pulled back to look at you.  “No.  I don’t want to miss anything.”

“It would be funny if I’m wrong and it doesn’t happen for a couple of days,” you joked.

He chuckled.  “I wouldn’t be mad.”

The two of you fell into silence, just gazing into each other’s eyes as your hands grazed over each other’s skin.

“I’m gonna work hard at getting better while you’re gone,” he said.  “I want my life to feel like it does when I’m with you.  Or as close as I can get.  I know I’m never going to be just a normal guy, but I want the normal stuff to be more common.”

You smiled and kissed him gently.  “You deserve all the happiness.”

“Not sure about that,” he said.  “But I’m gonna work to try and believe it.”

Silence fell again and you cuddled in under his chin.  He wrapped both his arms around you, holding you close to him as he looked up at the vaulted ceiling.

“Bucky,” you said, softly.

“Mm-hmm…”

“You know I’m very old.”

He chuckled.  “Yeah, darlin’,” he said.  “I’m no spring chicken myself.”

You giggled and kissed his jaw.  “This time we’ve spent together, in terms of my life, it’s been a blink of the eye.  I’ve seen so much.  Rivers being formed, forests turn to plains.  I’ve seen empires rise and fall again.  I’ve seen history being written and then forgotten again.  I’ve witnessed evolution.  To me, time has dragged on infinitely and I’ve done my best to not just move through it like a ghost.”

“I can’t even imagine how hard that’s been for you,” Bucky mumbled into your skin.

“I’ve been in love before,” you said as you played with his hair.  “Many times.  I’ve loved mortals and gods alike.  I know what it feels like to be in love.  And Bucky, I think I’m falling in love with you.  It’s been the time it takes to breathe in and out and yet I can feel it.”

Bucky didn’t say anything, but he could feel it too.  It was hard for him to feel worthy of it, or that it was something he could keep though.  So instead of reassuring you with words, he just tightened his arms and hid his face in your neck.

“Every time it ends the same.  I lose them because I endure when they do not, or they move on when I’m not here,” you continued.  “It can be hard, but over the millennia, I’ve come to think of it like the changing of seasons.  I love these people and in that love I want them to be happy.  It makes life bearable having love even if it is temporary.  If you move on while I’m gone, I’ll be sad, but I’ll be happy for you.”

Bucky shook his head.  “Don’t say that.”

You caressed his cheek and guided him to look at you.  “No, Bucky, I need you to hear it.  Life moves on when I’m not here.  I bring it, but it happens without me.  I need you to hear that you can have a life and not feel guilty about it.  I don’t want you to feel bad if you find something or someone that makes you happy.”

“I want you,” he said, a tear breaking and running down his cheek.

“I know,” you replied and leaned in and kissed him.

Bucky tilted his head and returned the kiss with both passion and tenderness.  He pushed all the love he felt for you through the kiss and hoped that you could feel it.  As his lips moved with yours you started to feel cooler and less real.

He pulled back and looked at you, you were fading quickly and he cupped your face.  “I’ll speak to you soon,” he said.

“Soon,” you repeated, and just like that, you were gone.  Bucky’s hand fell and landed on your pillow.  It was still warm from your body and he pulled it to his face and started to cry.

// NEXT

[nachtare]

resun fan playlists

if you look at these carefully, you can pinpoint many things. like when i first watched Inside and when i got back into Blue Oyster Cult. i made them on youtube because i hate spotify and don’t know how to share playlists on Apple Music. 

Walker - evil-type beats. From Eden (Hozier), Girl With One Eye (FaTM), Choke (IDKHBTFM), Youth (Daughter), Bad Guy (Billie Eilish), Oh No! (Marina and the Diamonds), Gallery Piece (of Montreal), While My Guitar Gently Weeps (Beatles), House of Memories (PaTD), Call Them Brothers (Regina Spektor), I’m Gonna Win (Rob Cantor), Bad Dudes (Michael Guy Bowman), Purgatory (MGB), C’est Pas Ta Faute (M), Once In a Lifetime (Talking Heads), No Children (The Mountain Goats), Burning Pile (Mother Mother), Everybody Wants To Rule The World (Tears for Fears), Everything Stays (Adventure Time), That Funny Feeling (Bo Burnham), Shit (BB), Black Blade (Blue Oyster Cult), Shrike (Hozier), Verbatim (Mother Mother).

uh, i listen to this playlist probably more than is healthy. i will stand by my picks. Black Blade doesn’t entirely fit, but I wanted to slap some BOC on there, and, like, i think walker wanted to be a lover, not a red-eyed screaming ghoul. Also the trifecta of “hand in unloveable hand” (No Children), “holding hands while the walls come tumbling down” (Everybody Wants To Rule The World), and “the quiet comprehending of the ending of it all” (That Funny Feeling) makes me feel things. Gallery Piece and Burning Pile are probably the ones that feel The Most Walker to me.

Slaoui - less evil-type beats. Running Up That Hill (Kate Bush), Wildfire! (Vocaloid), Santa Monica Dream (Angus & Julia Stone), Toxic (Britney Spears), Elastic Heart (S*a), Body (Mother Mother), Somewhere Only We Know (Keane), Don’t Be So Serious (Low Roar), I Dont Trust U Anymore (Left At London), Everybody Knows (Leonard Cohen), Last Song (Jason Webley), Nothing Left to Say / Rocks (Imagine Dragons), The Sun Always Shines On TV (A-ha), Faking It (MGB), Torture (Les Friction), No Light No Light (FaTM), Poison (Alice Cooper), Like Real People Do (Hozier), Brave As A Noun (AJJ), Always Forever (Cults), This Year (TMG), The Scientist (Coldplay), Old College Try (TMG), White Flag (Dido), Amsterdam (Imagine Dragons), Goin’ Through The Motions (Blue Oyster Cult), Wind (Akeboshi).

a few of these might work better for Kieren, but like, whatever. same guy. i really like the exquisite sense of loss in Santa Monica Dream, and how Always Forever is like. a slightly creepy love song. works well with Slaoui’s power-fueled weird fixation on Walker. i most especially stand by Wind and The Scientist.

the end. please read resun when it comes out. thank you.

[imlostinsantacarla]

@the-outsiders-blogg​ this is for you! if anyone’s wondering where the inspiration for this random ass imagine came from, there it is ➡ here. anyways i hope enjoy this! - admin kat 🌙❣

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Darry Interrogating Sodapop and Ponyboy Over Milk Being Put in the Cupboard Headcanons:

° So this all starts one sunny morning when Darry’s punk ass is looking for the milk in the fridge before work bc he finally wants some fucking cereal man. But he can’t find the milk. So he goes looking in the cupboard for a plate to put his toast on, bc Darry’s bland and likes that shit dry asff!

° Which leads him to find the milk in the cupboard and ma boii goes off!

° “Soda! Pony! Which one you idiots put the milk in the cupboard?” Darry hollers from the open cupboard in the kitchen. He’s dumbfounded, his kid brothers are fools!

° “What do you mean, Dar?” Soda inquires, damp wheat colored hair being combed into its usual hairstyle whilst he waltzes into the kitchen with a cocked brow.

° “Did you hear me stutter?” Darry deadpans, icy eyes glowering into Sodapop’s.

° “No, seriously! What are you talkin’ about, Dar?” Ponyboy asks before biting into the reddest apple you’ve ever seen. The kid looks honestly so baffled.

° “This isn’t funny! One of you guys did it, so fess up! The milks off now because of the heatwave. I swear if you admit it I won’t be mad.” Darry turns to face the boys, large hands articulating his speech.

° “You’re already mad, dammit!” Soda states, a smile creeping on his face because he honestly cannot believe that Darry’s bitching about milk right now.

° “Yeah, it wasn’t us.” Ponyboy mumbles with a mouthful of apple. Though to be fair, he’s kinda shitting it whilst looking at Sodapop because maybe… just maybe one of them did put the milk in the cupboard instead of the fridge? He has a distinct faint image in his head of the milk jug going into the cupboard, but was it him or Soda?

° Soda’s like ‘lol same’ mentally and just shares a look of uncertainty with Pony for a moment before turning to look at their eldest brother who looks totally done with their shit.

° “Listen, I can’t be wasting my damn money on milk when you two dumb fucks keep pullin’ stupid shit like this!” Oh, Darry’s mad!

° “Darry, honestly, we didn’t do shit! Why would we-” Soda’s kinda getting miffed at this point because like wtf? Man, maybe he did do it, but is he gonna admit this shit? Hell no! He’s questioning himself mentally, ‘Am I really that dumb? I mean, I know I dropped out and all…’

° “Don’t you get mouthy with me, you damn shit!” Darry’s red in the face, pointing a finger at Soda.

° “Listen, I’ll buy you some damn milk, Super Dope!” Steve interjects exasperated by how stupid this argument is.

° “What’d you just fucking call me?!” Darry slams his fist on the counter, getting ready to square tf up to Steve. Lmaoo Steve can’t help but laugh under his breath.

° “Darry, he’s right! It’s not a big deal, we can get some more milk.” Pony mumbles quietly, his eyes evading his eldest brother’s in fear he was gonna go off on a tangent again. Although Pony hated Steve, he really didn’t want to see the guy get his two front teeth knocked out over some damn milk.

° “Pony, I don’t wanna hear it! It was either you or Soda, and it’s about the principal of putting the damn milk away like a normal person! Use your damn head for once!” Darry snaps, this is clearly more than just some damn milk. I mean, Pony didn’t even think that cereal was even that good. Pony thought Darry should just stick to his tar-like coffee and get on going to his work by now.

° “Hey! How’re you so certain that is was me and Pony that did it, huh? Pony uses his damn head real swell, Dar and you know it!” Soda’s now pointing fingers at Darry now, it’s like an episode of Modern Family lmaoo.

° “I don’t have time for this and stop getting mouthy, kid!” Darry’s so exasperated that he walks out bc lol his ass is gonna be late for work now.

° The screen door just slams shut and Two-bit is sat on his backside with a beer by his side and a whole damn chocolate cake in his lap and the rest of the gang is like, “What?!”.

° “Man, I thought I put that in the fridge!” Two-bit grins widely.

° "And you didn't say anything?!" Pony and Soda cry in unison, staring at their beloved prankster of a friend with a look that could most certainly kill.

° “Two, how drunk are you right now on a scale of one to ten?” Steve quips with a scowl on his face. He almost got his teeth knocked out because of this idiot!

° “Pretty fucking drunk to pull a dumb fucking move like that, Steve. Why’re you even askin’ him that for?” Dallas pipes up from Darry’s armchair, his calloused fingers scraping against the stubble beginning to grow on his chin.

° Johnny's like 👀 bc the drama of it all!

° "I'm a fish,” Two-bit mutters under his breath, his attention now being stolen by none other than Mickey.

° "Jesus christ! Go get some milk you idiot!" Soda snaps bitterly as he walks out with Steve, Pony and Johnny in toe because they’re all gonna be late for work and school now.

° Lmaoo now it’s all quiet, except for the blaring audio coming from the television. 

° Dallas and Two-bit are left alone.

° "You being serious that you did that shit man?" Dally asks after ten solid minutes of silence.

° "I swear it was the fridge, Dal. I swear!" Two-bit looks at his buddy, a wise cracking grin plastered on his face.

° "Man, you're a lost cause." Dally chuckles before getting up to his feet to fetch himself a beer from the fridge. It’s not even 9am!

° Anyways, when Darry comes home that night there’s now five jugs of milk on the dining table bc everyone, - except for Two-bit bc he forgot -, bought some damn milk. I mean, even Dally stole some from the corner store.

° "Now there's too much milk! I ain't paying you all back. You better buckle up Popeye style because I'm not drinking it on my own." Darry snaps irritably as he looks at all the milk on the kitchen table, the entire gang is gathered around said table looking like a bunch of dumb butts.

° "Popeye loves spinach Darry not milk." Pony corrects Darry, bitch is mumbling under his breath but Darry whips his head up bc he fucking heard him!

° "I swear to god if you smart mouth me again I’ll-"

° "Darry! Stop okay? You bitched about having no milk, now you've got more. Eat your damn cereal you big BABY! And leave my kid brother alone!" The sass coming from Soda kinda makes everyone get a bit silent bc lmaoo not this shit again!

° "Man, can you guys quit arguin’? Two’s the one who fucking did that shit this morning! He admitted to all of us, I'm not a fucking snitch or nothin’ but fuck this is annoying." Dally would gripe as he takes a carton of milk, bursts it open and starts chugging it. Lmaoo it was the one he stole. He can’t listen to this shit any more, he’s gonna go insane. ‘What a bunch of pussies.’ He grumbles in his head.

° "Two, you fucking put my milk in the cabinet?!" Darry roars, his head whipping towards the living room where Two-bit’s sitting on his ass watching tv again.

° “Did I? I thought it was the fridge!" Lmaoo it’s so innocent the way he says it.

° Pony almost has a stroke.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

please like, reblog and follow for more!

requests: closed!

[queenlucythevaliant]

Narnia is a Genre

Or, a handful of songs I refuse to believe weren’t specifically written for The Chronicles of Narnia

“Yesterday’s Apples,” Michel Lengrand and Natalie Dessay 

Yesterday’s children were younger/yesterday’s spring was a song/yesterday’s breezes were softer/yesterday’s summers were long/I’ve looked for yesterday’s apples in every apple I’ve tried since then 

(To be clear, I very much associate this song with the Pevensies at the beginning of PC, just having realized that they’re in Narnia. I’m not of the opinion that the Pevensies pined for Narnia after returning to England. That said, the lyrical specificity of this song’s first verse to Narnia is uncanny)

“On Trees and Birds and Fire,” I Am Oak

Trees, oh trees, do you remember me/from before/from before?

(This one is also pretty uncanny)

“Long Live,” Taylor Swift

“You held your head like a hero/on a history book page/it was the end of a decade/but the start of an age” 

(True story, I actually made a PowerPoint relating this song to Narnia when Speak Now came out and I was in, like, middle school.)

“The Lord is Good,” RYM Worship

The Lord is good, the Lord is good/He may not be safe, but He is good/The Lord is just, the Lord is kind/The Lord is wrath and love at the same time

(This is a little bit of a cheat, since I’m pretty confident that it’s referencing LWW directly. That said, not nearly enough people know it. Go listen to it!)

“Creation of Earth,” Thomas Bergson

Instrumental

(This captures the atmosphere I imagine for the creation of Narnia, if not Aslan’s song itself. The roaring sounds (lion?) at the end are a nice touch) 

“I Remember,” Stephan Sondheim, from the TV musical Evening Primrose 

I remember days/or at least I try/but as years go by/they’re a sort of haze/and the bluest ink/isn’t really sky/and at times I think/I would gladly die/for a day of sky

(Not a perfect fit, I know, but I’ve specifically avoided finding anything out about the plot/premise of Evening Primrose for years specifically because this song reminds me so strongly of SC)

“Here I Am,” Chris Rensema and Moriah Hazeltime

Winter has passed and the spring has arrived/winter had passed and the spring has arrived/Here I am/You have found me/Here I am

(The bridge of this song evokes Aslan and the coming of spring in LWW more strongly than I can describe, at least for me)

“We Will Go Home (Song of the Exiles),” Aron van Selm 

Land of freedom, land of heroes/Land that gave us hope and memories/Hear our singing, hear our longing/We will go home across the mountains”

(I think this was written for a movie that I haven’t seen? Or maaaybe a video game? But it vividly evokes Bree and Hwin for me)

“Seagull Chorale,” Sarah Nichols

Instrumental

(This is exactly the sound of the Last Sea.)

“The Projectionist,” Sleeping at Last

So we’re leaving, we’re leaving our shadows behind us now/We’re leaving, we’re leaving it all behind for now/And it makes us brave again

("Further up and further in” in musical form. Thanks nothinggold13!)

“Sailing on a Ship,” Phil Wickham

I’m sailing on a ship that’s bound for light/I wrestle with the wind against the tide/I leave it all behind to reach for more/I’m sailing on to Your golden shore

(Okay, I almost didn’t include this one because Phil Wickham is associated with Bethel Church, which is high-key heretical. Definitely don’t play his music at your church; whether you're okay playing it for personal use is a private matter. This isn’t even a good worship song; it’s all about the singer rather than about God, never mentions Jesus, or even really says anything specific about God/His attributes. HOWEVER, as a song about VDT, it’s mind-blowingly good. It captures the sense of awe and pervasive light as you approach Aslan’s country darn near perfectly. So if you can think about it as a song about Narnia rather than about God, it’s really great. My friends and I used to sing it all the time coming back from youth group back in the day. IDK dude.)  

[write-a-bad-romance]

Good in Red (Mozart x Isaac)

Pairing: Mozart x Isaac

Rating: T

Word Count: 3390

Prompt: Yandere, Gakuen AU

Ao3 Link: Here

Happy Halloween! I hope you're up for something a bit more experimental!

There was a downpour outside. That much Wolf could tell.

Lately, the white-haired youth found it laborious to roll off the bed and step outside. Not like there was anything to do in the living room.

The constant pangs in his head made it worse. Thank God the room he was kept in was just right across the bathroom. It was one of the few acts of mercy he was given in this otherwise appalling situation.

There was a water dispenser installed by the desk, with fresh mugs replaced daily. Lunch was... unusual,  to say the least. Every day, there'd be a lovingly crafted bento box packed with snacks (and sometimes a carton of milk) left on the desk with a post-it note attached,

The cutely worded messages betrayed the sinister implications of Wolf's predicament. They were better suited for husbands leaving for the office or a child about to spend lunchtime for the first time in middle or high school.

It didn't fit the perpetually frowning boy, whose scent still lingered on the pillow next to his.

Wolf first saw him at the end of a recital, cherry blossom orbs full of wonder as the young conductor eye's swept over his roaring audience.

He was a friend of Leonardo, one of his violinists and a second grade. He was the president of the science club, and he confirmed Wolf's newest fanboy to be one of his members.

"A bit shy, that kid. But definitely full of potential." The Italian spoke between drags of sweet-scented cigarettes (like the chronic chain smoker he was, Wolf's nose curled in distaste) one afternoon. "He doesn't talk much, always standing by himself in the corner. But when he gets talking, boy. He's definitely going places someday, maybe even Todai*. Or MIT."

"Never seen him before, and I'm good at recognizing faces." Wolf's eyes scanned the cafeteria and spotted a female underclassman waving at him. He didn't return the gesture. "Is he a transfer student?"

"Try asking your best friend about him," Leonardo winked as he rose from his chair and gathered his tray. "His other best bud seems to be thick as thieves with the kid."

His name was Isaac, and he loved physics.

Wolf had no need to seek the freshman out himself. It was the school darling Napoleon who ambushed him after rehearsal one afternoon, a fidgeting redhead in tow.

Wolf had no patience for his type  — painfully shy and ready to burst with a single poke. Wolf figured Napoleon was used to secondhand embarrassment as the bumbling schoolboy tripped on his own introduction.  

I'm Isaac, and I love physics.  The exact same words.

"N-nice to meet you." he blushed. "I've been coming to your recitals, you see. And I'm-"

Wolf zoned out on the remaining words as he expertly masked his growing disinterest. At least the boy seemed sincere.

The boy brought a sizable bouquet full of gladiolus and lily-of-the-valley. His face must have been burning behind the flowers as he presented them to Wolf.

"H-here." He thrust the bouquet in Wolf's face. "I hope this isn't too much."

He'd been given roses, chocolate, and even stuffed animals from secret admirers, boys and girls alike. But the straightforwardness with which Isaac gifted him the colorful array was novel.

"Danke Schoen." Their fingers touched as Wolf received the offering. Isaac was trembling. "You didn't need to go this far."

"But I- I wanted to!" The boy exclaimed with passion. Wolf was so astonished that he had no time to fight the red blooming across his cheeks.

Visiting the music room outside club hours had been Wolf's habit since his first year. It gave him time to practice and space to breathe new ideas into his compositions.

Before, there was nobody but him and the lustrous grand piano. Isaac became a new addition to his routine, unwelcome.

But only at first.

"Ah, Wolf-senpai. You're still here. Again," He would barge in at the end of every song, after unsuccessfully concealing himself near the door. "You don't ...tire, do you? It's after hours, and you're still fiddling with the piano."

It's the uneasiness in his voice that made the exchange endearing.

"And Leonardo should be looking for you by now." He smirked. "Don't you have science club?"

"Oh, there was nothing much, just a meeting and... stuff. I suppose you don't mind me intruding on your...uh, practice."

Wolf wanted to say he did mind. The line suited someone with a little more dash and charm, like Napoleon, better. The way Isaac stuttered and stumbled on his own words was amusing if only a bit awkward.

Few people could withstand Wolf's aloofness, and most would cower away after the slightest click of a tongue. There was a reason why he was dubbed the 'Ice Prince' by the school population.

The gratuitously assigned title always gave him and Jean (the other Cold Beauty of the School) a good laugh during lunch breaks. Except for the select few, no other person in the entire student body dared to disturb their exclusive, distant bubble of companionship.

Isaac was either admiringly bold or dangerously foolish for inviting himself into Wolf's presence. The music prodigy thought the effort was worth applauding.

Not that it was failing.

"I've got still got some sandwiches here. If you'd like, we can- "

" Sure, I've got some time to spare."  Wolf smiled as he gathered his sheets. Isaac looked like he could drop dead on the spot.

"I didn't know you had this much interest in music,"  Wolf commented one breezy afternoon as they shared earphones on the school's rooftop. Without too much deliberation, he decided to let Isaac listen to his demos.

The boy was surprisingly candid with his critiques on Wolf's compositions, despite being a fanboy (which he refused to admit).

"I grew up on classical music," The boy replied. "Nan always said it contributed to my IQ or something."

Wolf held back a snicker. It was very much Isaac to drop hints of his own superiority, even behind a self-deprecating tone.

"I'm glad you did. Jean doesn't really listen to them. He's hopeless when I ask him for opinions."

Isaac dropped his fork onto the plastic food box with a loud clack.

"You talk to him too?" Wolf imagined Isaac drooping like a puppy. "Of course. He's your best friend."

Wolf only thought it was cute at the time.

"You're living by yourself?"

Isaac nodded as they walked side by side, cherry blossom trees in full bloom along the road. It was the start of a new school year, and Wolf had accepted Isaac's invitation to walk home together that day.

"You should try making unforgettable memories before you graduate." Jean urged him after hearing his best friend's recent development with his new best friend.  "It's not often you get the chance to score with your favorite underclassman."

"Sure. Good luck scoring with Napoleon, yourself."

Wolf barely took notice of his surroundings as he was led to a massive apartment building. Even he knew no student would be able to rent their 1DK* units on part-time wage and parental subsidy.

"You're not the only one with fat wads of dosh." Isaac playfully smirked as he opened the door to his apartment.

Wolf could feel his heart thumping against his chest as he took his first step into the threshold.

There was no window to the outside world besides the TV. His iPhone was stashed away somewhere in this godforsaken apartment, most likely dismantled beyond repair.

Wolf curled on the too-small couch as the sound of rain muffled whatever trite noises the TV made. These days, there was nothing to watch but variety shows and drama.

He had no stomach for anime. His jailer, however, would drag him out to eat dinner while watching his favorite series.

He'd laugh and talk to him as if this was normal. Wolf supposed it was, for the aberrant. Had he been a girl, the freak would somehow bring get his hands on a marriage registration form and force him to sign it.

Alright, that was harsh. But judging from Wolf's current circumstances, maybe his prejudice towards the other boy wasn't entirely unjustified.

He fell for his kindness, and his hormonal, teenage self drove sealed his fate. What he thought was a mutual exchange between two touch-starved boys turned into a one-way transaction with no way out.

Wolf laid down on his back. The shadows playing across the ceiling gave him a sense of deja vu.

He could still feel the weight of a warm body on his own and the scent of strawberries clinging to his black sweater. His eyes and head were full of nothing but Isaac, Isaac, Isaa-

If that afternoon felt like a dream, then this must be a nightmare. The next time he opened his eyes, he would be back in his own bedroom, Nannerl's voice waking him from outside the door.

"Where on earth did you manage to get that? You don't have a sister."

"Be still, "Isaac admonished, leaning so close that he was partially sitting on Wolf's lap. "You don't want me to smear this all over your face."

You're not answering my question.  Wolf wanted to know why Isaac was able to produce a glossy lip tint from his bedroom. He'd seen girls at his school carrying that particular brand and type. It became en vogue several months ago, and he still remembered his sister saying it was a best-seller.

Why a schoolboy with no girlfriend kept one in his bedroom, he didn't know. If this were somebody else, Wolf wouldn't pry. But this was Isaac.

He needed to know more about him. Peel away his layers and uncover the many different faces no one else would ever see.

Wolf put up mock resistance as the pointed applicator (apple-scented. Curious.) drew closer to his lips. Knowing that struggling would only lead him into having one of his eyes poked, the taller boy decided to lay down and let Isaac finish the job.

He gently swept the tint over Wolf's lips back and forth until he was satisfied. He reared back to look at his handiwork adoringly.

"Ah, as I thought, you look perfect in red." Isaac was quick to don back his signature frown. Only this time, there was a furious blush spreading across his cheeks.

Wolf said nothing as he pulled Isaac's tie until dry lips crashed on his lacquered own. The younger boy was just as eager as he was, an inquisitive tongue slipping into Wolf's welcoming mouth.

"I haven't seen you as often lately." Isaac caught him one day in the shoe changing area. "Been going somewhere?"

Wolf smoothly fought his desire to brush back Isaac's bangs from his forehead. "I'm now a third-year, and I'm attending the university prep class. I need to devote my time to studying."

"Is that why you're hanging with Leonardo-senpai all the time in the library?"

"What do you think? Of course," Wolf rushed towards the exit. He had no time for Isaac's nagging. "My parents have high expectations of me, you know."

"But what about your music?"

Wolf stopped in his tracks and turned toward the panting boy. "What about it?"

"I thought you got a recommendation from a music school somewhere. Why do you need to spend all your time studying?" the redhead yelled, his outburst a rare display of candid emotion.

What's with this naivety you're suddenly showing me?  "My portfolio alone won't be enough to get me into a good school. I also need good grades to help me pass. I thought that's obvious, especially to you."

No high-achieving student like Isaac would suddenly fret over having to achieve higher grades to get to a reputable university.

I thought you wanted to get into astrophysics yourself? Does it not require outstanding grades?

"Isaac, what-"

"Then, does that mean you'll stop going to the music room and play like you used to?" Isaac strode to catch up with Wolf. "Does that mean I can't come and see you anymore?"

Wolf reached out and grabbed Isaac's sides, unaware of the attention they drew from bystanders.  "If that's what you're worried about," he sighed. "We can go on weekends when I'm able. How does that sound?"

He didn't like the slight trembling of Isaac's lips. Here, he couldn't kiss it away. Not if it meant risking becoming the topic of gossip among students for many months to come

Wolf's phone vibrated for the fifth time over the last twenty minutes.

"Are you not picking that up?" Jean pointed at the device, eliciting a groan from its owner.

"That's just Isaac. Ignore it." The white-haired youth snatched his phone and switched on silent mode. "He's just a lot clingier lately."

"Why don't you block him? I'm sure this is not the first time." Jean regarded him calmly, his eyes focused on the problem that they were in the middle of solving. "Doesn't it bother you too when you're studying alone?"

"That's a little too harsh, even for Isaac." Wolf threw the phone over his head, and it landed on the bed with a soft thud. "Besides, weren't you the one shoving me towards him?"

Jean tapped the butt of his pencil against his lips. "I didn't expect it would turn into anything like this."

"Like what?"

"That he'd turn out to be this... possessive." Jean selected his words carefully. "I'm surprised you even let him go this far."

Wolf sighed. His friend was right. Nobody had ever driven him up the wall quite like Isaac. "He's always been lonely," Wolf concluded, violet orbs focusing on the mechanical pencil he was twirling. "I can't just leave him alone, can I?"

"Even so," Jean murmured. "I can't bear to see you like this. I've seen you approached by admirers before, and you turned them down all down without trouble."

What's so different about him? was the real question he didn't ask.

"He's... entertaining, to be honest. Makes you want to take care of him." Wolf explained, matter-of-factly. There wasn't a single tinge of red on his cheeks. "But, to be honest, his clinginess does irk me a bit."

Jean came over to ask help from Wolf for his math homework. He wasn't here to listen to him drawling about his (honestly hopeless) love life.

Wolf brought his attention back to the workbook they had abandoned. His brows were knitted in thought.

"You think it's a good idea to call it quits with Isaac?"

After a while, the rain finally quieted down, nearly lulling Wolf to sleep. Losing himself to slumber was the easiest, least painful way to deal with this hallucination-gone-horribly-real.  

There was light rain on the day he asked Isaac to talk in a cafe not too far from here. Wolf remembered it like it was only yesterday. There was the posh interior, girls from the nearby Catholic school giggling at them, the aftertaste of the cafe au lait he ordered. He could vividly picture the delicately plated apple pancake in front of Isaac, piping hot and enticing.

He would never forget phantom tears prickling in the corner of Isaac's rosy eyes.

Everything considered, he did what he'd always done: tell the other they needed to part ways, calmly explain the reason why, and set boundaries. "I won't be answering your calls or messages, and I won't be waiting around for you after school."

"I will no longer be visiting the music room. You won't find me there."

Unexpectedly, the boy only heaved a sigh and shook his head. No screaming or begging involved.

"I see. I had a feeling it would turn out this way." He continued to finish his dessert silently.

Perhaps it was out of genuine love (or even pity) that he brusquely offered to walk Isaac back to his apartment building one last time. Wolf didn't consider himself a poor judge of character, so it must be his heart winning over his head.

And what a blunder that was.

He nearly collapsed onto Isaac's side, barely listening to the boy fretting and calling to him in distress. "Senpai, what's the matter? You look pale. Let's get you inside so you can lie down."

The unwitting Wolf was led straight into his awaiting den.

Wolf awoke to the sound of the front door unlocking and a quiet I'm home,  followed by some shuffling and other sorts of ruckus the clumsy boy caused.

Footsteps approached the couch he laid on. His heart no longer throbbed like crazy by now whenever the other came near.

"I'm home, Wolf. Why didn't you answer?"

His boyish voice used to be the reason why he was drawn to Isaac. But now, it only made his skin crawl. Wolf seethed and averted his eyes as far away as possible from his 'guardian', wishing he could regurgitate his lunch all over the plush carpet.

"Are you still sulking? Don't be. It doesn't become that lovely face of yours."

If you weren't drugging me daily, I would have strangled you.

"Were you lonely without me? It can get pretty dull as dishwater 'round here." Wolf tried to distract himself from the hands, grabbing him and propping himself up. " 'suppose it's about time I get you a keyboard to play. It'll be like the old days."

I wish I never let you inside the music room that day.

Cold fingers combed through unruly silver locks. "This is all 'Leon's fault. Bummer. He insisted on waiting for Jean-senpai."

Isaac squeezed himself into space next to Wolf's rigid figure. The elder closed his eyes as an arm snaked its way around his waist. "Yeah, we couldn't exactly run under heavy rain."

Wolf's eyes were fixed on the screen. Would there ever be a chance of his face showing on breaking news, a shot of his parents crying over their missing son, or interviews with fellow students from his school?

Anything but the white noise the darned TV emitted. Or the unwanted hand now caressing his burning cheek.

Poor sod looked like he was missing you for real. Napoleon invited him to walk home with us because he 'couldn't bear to see him in distress." His voice dropped into a whisper. "But if you ask me."

"They're prolly trading making out in some dark alley because Jean-senpai can't stand being alone,"  Isaac mocked. Every syllable pouring out of his lips made Wolf's stomach churn. "I take back what I said about him missing you. He just wants dick in him, thinking it'll help him get better."

The plastic remote clattered on an uncovered part of the wooden floor. Wolf wanted to pry away his imprisoner's claws from his shoulder. Fingers that used to radiate heat all over his skin now left nothing but disgust in their wake.

"He likes to pretend he's all prim and proper when really, he's just an attention-seeking slag." The venom was so palpable and potent in his voice that it made Wolf overlook the fact that the bastard was muttering directly against the back of his neck. "I don't get why you kept putting up with him, that fraud."

Nobody else would ever be this genuine to you, Wolf-senpai.  So the boy mumbled to him every night before sleep.

All sheepish pretenses were thrown and cast aside as conveniently as changing clothes. Wolves were affectionate creatures, the young composer once read.

But they're still wolves.

"I don't know if you'd be fine with electric keyboards," Isaac sighed into his hair. "If I had more money, I'd buy you a real red piano  — the polished kind that looks like a toy. Ah, I used to see them all the time at a toy store when I was a kid."

Isaac's delirious rambling convinced Wolf that he wasn't the madman. That this was real and that there was no waking up from this long, bad dream —

Wolf violently shut his eyes as Isaac drew him closer, tighter. To Wolf's impaired senses, Isaac's words were losing to the sound of rain. There was a downpour outside.

" I found a picture of you from when you were in middle school. You were already stunning, sitting in front of your family's white piano." He went on. "It's always white, grey, light blue. Ever thought that you'd look perfectly good in red?"

Glossary:

*1 Todai: short for Tokyo Daigaku or Tokyo University. Basically Japan's most legendary university. *2 1DK: a Japanese term referring to an apartment unit with two rooms with a kitchen and dining space separated from other areas. The D stands for "Dining" and K stands for "Kitchen".

I originally planned this to be a shorter fic from Isaac's perspective, but I switched to Mozart's instead and got carried away.

[cacti-are-like-flamingos]

Texted Love

Henry Cavill x Fem!Reader

Part 3

Central Masterlist | Texted Love

"Please welcome back... Henry Cavill!" Graham announced, watching as the tall and burly man walked onto the stage wearing a black on black suit, the first two buttons of the collared shirt left undone, revealing a bit of his strong collar bone and unruly chest hairs. Going over to him, the two men hugged each other, muttering soft and polite greetings before pulling away, heading towards their respective seatings. Norton in his black cushioned bucket chair and Henry along side the other guest stars on the strangely shaped red couch.

The interview started as like the many others before, with questions about the guest stars participation in the latest new series or social events or just some funny things that were rumored to have been done or said by the guest. Already a handful amount of minutes had gone by, the show was due to end in about 30 more when the talkshow host decided to bring back up the subject about Henry and the lovely (Y/n).

"So Henry, have you got an update for us?" Henry furrowed his brows in confusion, not truly understanding what the older male was trying to imply. It took him a moment or two to finally understand. No one would know, except himself of course, that the smile that arose to his lips wasn't because it was a funny situation or because he was shy about it. No, it was because he had instantly pictured you in his head, the thought of you causing a bubbling warmth to flood his stomach.

"Ah yes...What would you like to know?" Henry asked, a fond look in his eyes.

"Have you guys been talking?" The actor nodded making the host squeal out of joy; fangirling. The action causing many chuckles. "Ooo, do tell." The host spoke.

"Oh, uhh, well we've been nonstop talking with eachother since," he chuckled under his breath, the veins in his neck seemed to become more visible due to it," she told me to 'hit her up'," his said, air quoting the phrase with both his hands index and middle fingers," on instragam."

"Have the two of you met yet?" A guest star asked.

"No, we haven't unfortunately. Her schedule and mine contradict a lot. So we make due with a lot, and I mean, A LOT of texting and face timing."

"That's good, great way of communicating despite circumstances. Tell us, have you learned something new about (y/n)? Like any weird habits?"

An instance quickly popped up in his mind, a chesire grin on Henry's face.

"Actually yeah. Here's the thing, (y/n) likes to send me strange things at like the most ungodliest of hours." The audience laughed, huge beaming grins on their faces. Graham sent the male a hesistant look, anxious of what was to come one could say.

"What-hahaha. What do you mean? What has she sent you?" Shifting about his seat, the raven haired male wet his lips, a smirk coming about them.

"Hehehe. She, for some reason, likes to send me a lot of gifs of those, uhhh, I don't know what they're called. Uhh, it's like a tomato from a kids show. And like it has a confused face."

"What the fuck...?" Another guest star quietly muttered under their breath, but loud enough for the microphone and the people on stage to catch. Henry tried to surpress another wave of laughter as he continued to elaborate more on the bizarre subject.

"Yeah, so she'd send them at like 5 in the bloody mornin', which is actually her midnight back in the states."

"Is-" Graham cleared his throat, eyes twinkling in amusement, "Forgive my bluntness, but is she drunk at that time? Does she drink by then?" A whole roar of laughter and claps erupted from the audience and stage. Shaking his head, soft black curls fell upon his glistening forehead, his smirk widening.

Henry quickly added, "Actually, I've asked her that question like once but she said that even she's surprised she isn't drunk."

"And does she do it like every day?"

"Soemtimes its back to back. But then it stops for a while and then starts up again."

...

Instagram 11:50 pm

(U/n): (henrycavill): You just had to out me to the world didn't you? 😒

(henrycavill): (U/n): What? It was funny

(U/n): (henrycavill): smh

(U/n): Wonder what else you gonna spill about me

(henrycavill): (U/n): oh i don't know...maybe your obsession with Star Wars fanfiction? Figure that'll catch the media's attention quite nicely won't it?

(U/n): (henrycavill): 😧

(U/n): (henrycavill): Wow. We really going there. Okay, okay.

(U/n): (henrycavill): Pay attention to my next interview. I think you'll find something of great interest.

(henrycavill): (U/n): Oh? What is it?

(U/n): (henrycavill): Not gonna say. But I'll give you a hint.

(henrycavill): (U/n): Ooo a hint

(U/n): (henrycavill): I hear your sarcasm so freakin loud rn. When we meet imma slap you hard core

(henrycavill): (U/n): As if you could reach

(U/n): (henrycavill): Psst I don't even gotta reach. All i gotta do is grab you by the tie and pull you down to my level.

(henrycavill): (U/n): oh? how kinky of you

(U/n): (henrycavill): darling that's vanilla compared to my other kinks ;)

(henrycavill): (U/n): And just what are your other kinks? 😏

(U/n): (henrycavill): Bondage~

(henrycavill): (U/n): Really now? You like to be tied down and called a good girl? 😏

(U/n): (henrycavill): Nope. I like to tie you down and make you beg for me to call you a good boy. 😏

(henrycavill) still typing...

(U/n): (henrycavill): Gtg see ya babe! Remember watch my interview! Bye💕

...

"I literally cannot believe you actually just said that to him." Terry stated, eyes wide and glassy as he took yet another swig of his liquor. A pink blush flourishing a the apples of his freckled cheeks. Laying beisde his seated body, you buried yourself deeper into the velvetness of your fuzzy blankets, a content smile on your glossed lips. A bottle of vodka in your hand.

"Me neither. Future me will most likely either regret it or be proud of me? Question mark." You said, your eyes still glued onto the tv. Ah, Reid found another body.

"What do you think his reply is?" You shrugged.

"I dom't really care man. Actually I do care but I want to ignore my anxiety for as long as I can so Imma act like I don't care."

"But you do care right?" You briefly looked his way.

"...Yes."

"Do you like him?" You drank.

"If I say it, it becomes more real. So I'm just gonna ignore that question."

"But you do. What's so wrong about liking a person?"

"Are you gonna drink that or am I going to have to drink it for you?"

...

His mind didn't know how to react to her text. But his body did. Almost instantly did a sudden discomfort form within his pants, a tightness. His whole body felt as though it was near a furnace, his cheeks warm and pink. His imagination was running wild. He could see so many fantasies, all runnung parallel to each other. Each equally pleasurable.

You really were a minx.

He continue to try and formulate some kind of phonetic response to your message, but to no avail. Ten minutes had gone by when all of a sudden his phone's screen lighted up, illuminating his face in the room filled with pure darkness.

Instagram 12:00 am

(U/n): (henrycavill): his name is Bob the Tomato from Veggie Tales. Night 🌙💕

"Yep. She's a keeper." Henry muttered, a small smile on his lips as he put his phone away to sleep at last.

Wait she never gave the hint? Oh well. It'll just have to be a surprise then.

...

"You really had to send him that?" "Shut up and drink up your vodka." "Is that a threat?" "Fine. Give here then!" "No, no, no, no, no, no! Sorry! Sorry! Look! Morgan's on the screen!"

...

(A/N): This could've gone so many different and not so innocent ways but I'm a crackhead so...!

Wished 🌟 @nothernlights19

Hope you enjoyed!

[concealeddarkness13]

WHG Post Games Nesri Part 1

Tagging: @ratracechronicler (also thanks for Rebecca and Elvira!), @maple-writes (also thanks for Cirrus and Asher!), @nightskywriter, @rhikasa, @pen-of-roses (also thanks for Lynn and Rowan!), @aeslin-writes, @the-moving-finger-writes, @knmartinshouldbewriting, @makeitmonstrous, and @timefirewrites!

It was a cozy apartment, and we had enough rooms that we could be alone, if we liked. Zenith seemed to prefer that, so when word came around that there was going to be a special interview, I made popcorn for everyone who wanted to watch and plan, and we gathered around the TV.

I sat cross-legged on the floor and stuffed an overflowing handful of popcorn into my mouth. Poli’s victory interview yesterday was subdued. He didn’t seem to be as enthusiastic as the Capitol wanted him to be. I had talked to Triel about trying to get him and anyone else out that the Capitol had stolen, so she was working on figuring out who else had been taken from the arena. Shine was leaning against the couch, ready to text me with anything he noticed about the interview. Rowan was leaning against the wall with their arms crossed. Asher was practically sinking into the couch, holding a warm drink, and Cirrus was leaning over the back, looming over Asher. I was still trying to get him to spar with me, but he kept ignoring me. Rebecca was sprawled sideways in the chair with a bowl of popcorn. Her sword was leaning up against the chair within arm’s reach. Also within arm’s reach was Elvira, a pirate Rebecca knew and who Triel recruited. She was sitting more properly, but Rebecca handed her pieces of popcorn every so often.

The Capitol music blared on the TV, and everyone seemed to perk up. Caesar grinned at the cameras, and I threw a piece of popcorn at the screen. “This Hunger Games was full of surprises. It was one of the longest Hunger Games ever, and the excitement was spread out to keep the tension high! We were so disappointed to see some favorites go, but we won’t have to say goodbye to all of them yet…” He paused for dramatic effect, and I threw another piece of popcorn at his stupid face. “We have a surprise for you, one that the Capitol made happen to make everyone happy! Two tributes have miraculously survived, and here they are!” I leaned forward as both Lynn(e)s walked on stage, looking all dressed up and smiling fake smiles.

“Disrespect. If he starts making jokes about their names, I’m kicking his kneecaps up into his throat.” Rebecca glared at the TV screen, and Elvira kept watching. I grinned at Rebecca and gave her a thumbs up before turning back to the TV. Cirrus smiled as he kept watching the screen, and Asher glanced at Rowan. They looked the most visibly shaken: they stiffened and scowled when they saw Lynn, gripping their arm tighter.

But after Rebecca said that, they gave a half-hearted laugh. “I would gladly help.”

Caesar was blissfully unaware of the direct threat to his kneecaps as he pushed onward after Evie and Lynn sat down. “So, could you describe how the Capitol so graciously saved you from the arena?”

Evie smiled. She was being too fake. “I was about to freeze, abandoned in the cold of the arena, but the Capitol graciously came and saved me, pulling me out from the hell of the arena, and into the lesser hell of the—”

She stopped with a grimace, and Lynn started talking. “I believe I was in almost the same situation, near death in the snow, such fond memories.” Lynn smiled, but there was contempt in his voice. “And of all people, my dear sister appears to, as you said, “graciously come save me”.”

Shine texted me. “Evie and Lynn are both wearing shockers. That’s how the Capitol is able to police what they say.”

Elvira spoke before I could explain. “She stopped,” she said suspiciously. “Why so sudden? And why the face?” Rebecca nodded.

“If Lynn’s sister is involved, I can only imagine where exactly they were taken after being pulled out.” Rowan stated coolly, eyes still on the screen.

I kept looking at my phone just in case Shine said something else. “Shine says they’re both wearing shockers, and that’s how the Capitol is policing what they say.”

Cirrus frowned. “Electric shockers? Seems like overkill to me.”

Asher turned to Rowan. “Wait, you know where they are?”

“Not exactly, more just, from what Lynn’s said in the past. He was involved in something that we thought was only in our district that was hurting people.” They sighed, a hand running through their wild hair. “Clearly, his suspicion that it was the same group from the Capitol he left was confirmed.”

“Oh,” Asher’s shoulders fell. “That’s too bad.”

Rebecca made a face. “The Capitol’s adherence to human rights knows no bounds. So, they get shocked if they say something Snow or Caesar doesn’t like?”

Shine nodded, and I shrugged. “I guess so. Shine’s the one who knows about this mechanical stuff.”

Caesar was still barreling on. “What did you think about leaving behind those you cared so much about when you went in the arena?”

Evie bowed her head. “I had to.” She looked up straight into the cameras, and it didn’t seem she was really talking about the people she left by going into the arena, but the people she left by being forced out of the arena. “I didn’t want to, but I had no choice. I’m sorry.”

“She’s talking about us,” Rebecca pointed out.

“Well, I had hoped they would understand when I volunteered for someone so young. Of course, never dreamed one would follow me in there.” Lynn’s face twisted with pain. “I hope they’re okay.”

Asher’s face hardened and he glared at the screen, which was showing Caesar’s face again. “How dare he. I should have killed him. I should have…” He trailed off, and I distinctly remembered his interview, where he had done some interesting (to put it lightly) stuff.

Rowan spoke quietly. “As much as I agree with the thought, I’m afraid of how much worse the Games could have been after if you had, on top of if you would have survived the interview, and personally I’m glad we’ve all made it this far.”

I held up my popcorn bowl towards Rowan. “Cheers, I’ll eat to that.”

“It gives us all a chance to right what they’ve wronged,” Elvira offered.

Caesar laughed, like what Lynn had said was a joke, and I threw more pieces of popcorn at his stupid face. “We have a surprise for you as well!” He gestured for something off-stage, and two people walked on, wearing the same fake smiles. I cursed under my breath. More people the Capitol would hold over them. “Alastair and Laurel! Two people close to Evelynne and Lynn!” The audience roared as they walked over to Evie and Lynn. Evie hugged Alastair tightly, and Lynn stared for a second, fear, panic, and other emotions crossing his face rapidly before he hugged Laurel. “What the h—” He grimaced in pain.

Caesar laughed as the crowd continued to cheer. “We’re going to let them have some time alone..,” He winked at the crowd. “But look forward to more surprises thoughout the week, with a big surprise being announced at an interview at the end of this week! Have a good night and may the odds be ever in your favor!” He ushered them all off the stage, and the screen reverted to its usual Capitol propaganda.

We sat in silence for a little bit. Rowan’s eyes were closed, and he was shaking.

I dumped the rest of my popcorn bowl (admittedly not a lot) into my mouth and leaned back. “So, what are we going to do about this?”

“I’ve seen enough. I’m ready to go get ‘em now.” Rebecca stood up and grabbed her sword. Elvira facepalmed, and Cirrus eyed the sword and mumbled something about wondering where she got that sword and where he could get one.

I laughed and stood in front of her. “As much as I’d like to say I’m with you, it would be suicide to get them now. We’ll have to figure out a time when they’re under less security.”

Shine texted my phone. “The most pressing thing right now is how to get rid of the shockers.” I relayed that to the group.

Rowan took a deep breath and finally opens their eyes. “Alright, does anyone actually know how those work or could possibly make them not work?”

Cirrus shrugged. “Take the battery out?”

Rebecca sat back down, so I did too. “Maybe we can just slice them out like we did with our trackers?”

Elivra pointed out, “That would require getting close to the person without raising suspicion, and it sounds potentially harmful. They’re likely wired differently than the trackers. They must be controlled remotely. If we can destroy or steal whatever triggers the shocks, these two should be safe.” She paused. “Well. Safe-er­.”

Shine rolled his eyes at Cirrus’s response, and I made a face at him. He texted my phone. “I can figure out how they work and how to make them stop working, but someone’s going to have to steal one for me. I don’t know what the Capitol would have put in for security measures. I’m not sure where they would be keeping them, however.” I relayed that to the group.

Rebecca spoke up. “I know a guy who might be able to help us narrow that down for you—he’s a sucker for a good cause. Which is why he quit. And I’m sure more than one of us good for sneaking into places we shouldn’t get to.” She looked over at me slyly, and I knew what she was talking about immediately, with the apples during training.

I winked at her. “I’ll totally back you up.”

Asher looked thoughtful for a bit before looking up. “We might not have to do much sneaking. If we can get close enough for someone who works there I could swap them with one of us. Take their soul out and put someone else’s in the body and you could use it like your own.”

Rowan shifted uncomfortably, grimacing. “I’ve had an experience a little too similar in the past to be the one for you to do that with, sorry.”

“Oh, that’s fine.” Asher nodded. “It’s a lot if you’re not ready for it. If we don’t need to do it all the better, but I wouldn’t be surprised if they have this stuff under a lot of security.”

I grinned. It was all coming together. “That woks too! That’ll be our sub-heist!”

“So that takes care of the trackers, but what about actually getting the both of them out?” Cirrus crossed his arms. “Sure you’ll have a field day dissecting some overcharged computer but that doesn’t do anything if we can’t get them free.”

“Are we including the two they brought out on stage as well in this rescue or do you think they were just there as a way to show the Capitol’s power to those two during the interview, if it could be called that?” Rowan said.

I shrugged. “Why not? More of a challenge and more of a “screw you” to the Capitol.”

“Are they innocent? They’re not working with Caesar, are they?” Elvira asked. “It seems like they were being used as a threat. If we abscond with Lynn and Lynne, Snow will have no use for the other two. I, for one, would rather not have that on my conscience, if we can help it.”

Rowan spoke up first. “I can’t say anything about the other, but Laurel is innocent, she’s family, or as close as myself or Lynn have.”

I shook my head. “Alastair was working with us to begin with, so he won’t be working with Snow. He’s offered to help us get into exclusive events if it will help us get them out.”

Rebecca perked up. “Exclusive events? Like what?”

“His father is a close Snow advisor, but he’s not infatuated with Snow like his family is. Triel made sure,” I said quickly. “He has access to tickets to parties and other events that are exclusive to high-ranking officials.”

“Sounds fun,” Cirrus said.

“So, we wait for the Capitol to host something flashy to show off their new trophies, find ourselves with invitations, and leave with these four in tow, shockless and safe?” Elvira asked.

Asher nodded. “I’m in.”

Rowan nodded as well. “Same here.”

Nesri nodded. “It’ll be so much more dramatic!” My phone buzzed. A text from Triel. I relayed it to the group. “So, it turns out the Capitol stole all of the tributes. If we can find a way to steal all of them from under the Capitol’s nose, we can show how little the Capitol can control.” Shit. I looked up at the others. “And just when we were getting things accomplished. How about we save that conversation for later when Triel’s back, so she can explain more about what she learned?”

Everyone nodded, and we headed off for our respective rooms.

[illyrianwingspans]

Do No Go Gentle: Donna

Link to song: Donna by the Lumineers

Synopsis: In which Feyre has a business meeting with a potential employer. 

TW: Vague mentions of self-harm and abuse. 

Ao3 Link

Chapter 21: Donna

Rhys

Like fucking clockwork, I woke with the rising sun.

It took less than five minutes to peel out of my sheets and pull some clothes on. Two minutes to down the shot of espresso and munch through an apple in the kitchen. One minute to creep back up the stairs quietly and open that door, just the tiniest slit—

Her figure was slumped to the side, arm dangling off the ledge of the bed. But I could see it, that steady up and down of her chest. Alive. Breathing. Peaceful.

Striking.

It was the only confirmation I needed before peeling back down the stairs and throwing on a pair of sneakers. As the pink clouds began to fade, my feet slammed against the pavement. The sun was still a blip on the horizon, Prythian wiping away the night’s remaining darkness, and with each song drowning out the noise in my ears more cars began to appear on the road as the rest of the city awoke. Soon enough, I was washed in the rays of sunshine. Sweat soaked through my thin long-sleeve, but I didn’t care. I just kept pushing.

It’d been three weeks since I ran. But this morning, I felt wired. Like my mind hadn’t turned off last night in its slumber. How could it? Not after what happened yesterday. Not after what Feyre told me last night.

I’d never felt anything like it before. It was a physical, throbbing ache in my chest, like my heart had truly cleaved in half and spilled all its venomous ichor into my body.

For some reason, it was worse than watching her perched on the ledge of the roof. Knowing that she’d been so miserable, for far longer than I could’ve imagined—

It struck something within me. Like a pianist crescendoing to the climax of a song only to play the wrong chord.

And I had no idea how to help her.

That’s what scared me the most out of all of this—despite my best efforts, Feyre’s condition was beyond my abilities. I’d done all I could out of my own personal experience to try and assuage the difficulties she’d experienced in the last three weeks, but this…

Last night, I felt completely and utterly useless. That was the worst part, I thought, about seeing someone you care about struggle with mental health issues—knowing that there is very little you can do to help. All I had were my words, carefully chosen to goad her into speaking as much as she comfortably would, and gentle enough to tell her that I was there for her, that I would support her. But all I wanted to do, all my instincts roared at me to do, was hold her. Hug her against me. Tell her that I was there, that I cared about her.

Those feelings pounding within my heart flared up again, and my foot faltered on its next step.

I stopped in my tracks. The rap music was still blaring in my ears. I ripped my earphones out, letting them dangle along my neck, and strode over to a nearby bench as I tried to shove some air into my lungs.

Fuck, I thought, I’m so out of shape.

My fingers were already dashing across the screen. Plenty of articles came up after the search, and I scrolled through them, taking screenshots of things that caught my eye. If I didn’t know how to help her, the least I could do was arm myself with some information. It wasn’t perfect, but it was a starting point.

When the steely pincers of anxiety finally unclamped themselves from my fried nerves, I was off again. There were so many other pieces of the story that seemed to root themselves in my mind, no matter how fast or hard I pushed my body, they never seemed to shake away.

I was in a car accident two years ago.

I killed someone.

It couldn’t have been her. No, I refused to hold onto that piece of illogical information my brain was trying to latch itself to. So I blasted my music up higher, and kept running.

***

Feyre

The only thing I knew how to cook was scrambled eggs.

Dad taught me how. When I was in high school, usually Elain made breakfast so I could have something in the mornings, but no one ever made me lunch. I relied on the lunch service the school provided for the ‘less fortunate’—but I couldn’t use it too often. No, if I went there every day, then the school got suspicious and started asking questions I wasn’t ready to answer. So, once or twice a week I’d go to the Home Ec room and take the cheese sandwich, apple and juice box—it was better than nothing. The counsellor would smile at me, I’d fake a story about sleeping in, missing the bus, anything but the truth that gnawed at the back of my mind.

We didn’t have money. We lived in a shitty two bedroom condo, bought with the remnants of money my dad had after mom died, and could barely pay for weekly groceries. Utilities, other household bills, dad paid when he was sober enough to read. But groceries came out of my pocket and the penance of a salary I earned as an administrative aid at school. It was only an hour or two after school, and it paid alright, but all the money went towards food.

My sisters didn’t bat an eye at the effort. They kept on their usual business, attending college on their scholarships. I sure as hell wasn’t smart enough to get a scholarship, but the financial aid department took one look at my level of income and offered to pay a hefty percentage, while the rest was covered by student loans. I thought I’d have to work those off for years.

Until he came along and paid them without even batting an eye. That, and any other outstanding debt my sisters or father had. And, and—I couldn’t leave out the wondrous house he’d bought on the other side of the city. The one we’d both helped my father move the boxes to, the one Nesta and Elain had definitely never visited after they’d moved out.

I couldn’t help but think about my dad. I wondered what he was doing right now, across the city, by himself. And the first thing that came to my mind was the bottle of whiskey sitting on the floor by his chair. He was always slumped in that chair with a faraway smile on his face. Sometimes I would sit next to him on the second hand couch and we’d watch TV together. Most of the time, I’d take one look at him and storm off to my room to imagine another life where none of it happened. Where mom didn’t die, where we weren’t flat broke, and I wasn’t miserable.

How I’d gone from the two bedroom condo to this townhouse, I didn’t want to think about. All I knew was that I’d never have to go back there again.

Because of him.

The front door opened and closed quietly, shaking me from my thoughts. I focused once again on my eggs, dividing both of them into two plates before setting four slices of bread in the toaster. When the footsteps got closer, I turned and saw Rhys there, sweat dripping down his face, rap musing blaring from his earphones. He hadn’t spotted me yet in the kitchen, his eyes on his phone. From where I stood between the stove and the kitchen island, I had a clear view of his hand reaching down to clutch his t-shirt and pull it over his head in one swift movement, ripping the earphones away as well.

I’d be lying if I said I didn’t stare at his chest. Defined and smooth, pure muscle was glistening in the light from the bay windows at the front of the living room. His stomach was hardened, toned yet still soft where the tan skin heaved from his panting. And on his chest, down his biceps—

Tattoos. Beautiful, midnight blue tattoos swirling down his skin in inky swirls, contrasting his tanner colouring. I’d seen them, a peek of them that night at Rita’s, but glancing at them now, I couldn’t help but appreciate the craftsmanship behind such beauty. Art in all forms were difficult to master—but when your canvas was human flesh, it made it all the more impressive.

And on him, it looked breathtaking.

“Something smells burnt,” he smirked at me, wiping the sweat on his face with his t-shirt.

I gasped, jumping out of my stupor as I turned to the toaster. Of course, the four slices staring back at me were black. Burnt to a mother-fucking crisp.

I sighed. Of course out of the two components of this meal, I’d burn the most idiot-proof one. At least I had a reasonable excuse for it standing in the living room.

“Like what you see, darling?” Rhys called as he clambered up the stairs.

“Oh, go jump in the shower. I could smell you from down the block.”

I stared angrily down my plate as I shovelled the eggs into my mouth. The new round of toast was grilling, the toaster on a much lower setting this time, and it popped up by the time Rhys’s footsteps hit the ground level once again. How he’d managed to pull himself together so quickly—tux, gelled hair and shaven face, I had no clue, but I’d be lying to myself if I said he didn’t look immaculate. Nonetheless, I tried my best to ignore his presence after that spout before.

He grinned as he took me in sitting at the counter.

“Don’t give me that look.”

His brows shot up, but that playful, mischievous glint in his eyes remained. “What look?”

“Like a cat just caught a fucking mouse. I have half a mind to dump your breakfast in the garbage.”

“At least it’ll keep that pitiful toast you chucked away from getting lonely.” Nonetheless, he took the four slices from the toaster, deposited two of them on my plate, and dug into his meal perched on the edge of the counter.

“There’s no need to deny that you find me attractive, Feyre. Just try not to ogle me so openly next time. It was very objectifying, to be quite honest.”

My cheeks heated, and I said around my mouthful of buttery bread, “Just when I thought your level self-esteem couldn’t get any higher. You’ll probably be replaying that moment in your mind all day.”

“Got a busy day, darling. Meetings in the morning at the office and a very important lunch date that I simply cannot miss. But I will try to squeeze in some daydreaming.” He pointed at me with his fork, his plate already scraped clean despite starting after me.  “Cassian’s coming by to hang out with you after.”

I rolled my eyes. “A babysitter? Seriously?”

Rhys looked over his shoulder from where he stood perching a travel mug beneath this spout of his Nespresso machine. “Not a babysitter, Feyre. A friend. Some company. Someone other than me to talk to.”

“Sending Cassian is like sending a carbon copy of yourself but with more muscle.”

“Firstly, he misses you and wanted to spend some time together. And secondly, ouch. You ogle me, then you insult me?” He twisted the cap onto his mug and fished his keys out of the dish by the edge of the counter, making his way towards the door.

“I’ll make sure to tell the chef to poison you today at lunch!” I called down the townhouse’s main corridor.

“And I’ll tell Cassian you’ve been dying to try his new CrossFit exercises!”

I rolled my eyes, but smiled to myself nonetheless after the door shut quietly behind him.

As I gathered the dishes to be washed in the sink, my mind wandered to last night. The two of us hunched in that tub speaking quietly to each other, me unveiling the darkest thoughts curled into the back of my mind.

I’d never said those words out loud before. With him, we just ignored that it was there in the first place. Lucien and Ianthe only found out because of that one incident at a charity dinner, when Ianthe picked a dress for me without thinking twice about it, and my scars were on display for anyone who got within five feet of me. I outright refused to show up to the stupid thing, but everyone insisted I made an appearance. Once Tamlin saw why, he made an excuse. Those who asked him—because it was impolite to ask me to my face—believed they were scars from the accident.

We all knew it was a lie. Lucien tried talking about it a few times with me, but I pushed him away. How the hell was I supposed to explain that I got so furious with my own mind that I intentionally hurt myself? Every time I tried, there was this burning sensation within my chest. Shame. Shame and crushing embarrassment.

But last night seemed so…easy. I didn’t know what it was about Rhys. I just always felt the need to tell him the truth. Whether it was because he’d seen me at my worst, or because he seemed to understand me like nobody else ever had. It was so…weird. To have somebody to listen to you after so long spent trapped in the silence.

Weird, and absolutely terrifying.

But there was also that festering guilt, and shame—immense shame, for those few moments when I looked at him in the living room. When I… enjoyed looking at him.

When I enjoyed our quiet dinner together last night.

I shook my head as I scrubbed the plate, the memory dissolving in my mind.

***

After Cassian treated me to a gruelling workout at his gym, I found myself back at the house, showered and prepped for Rhys and I’s lunch. Cassian had lingered downstairs to drive me over because Rhys was still caught up in a meeting.

“Shouldn’t you be at work?” I wondered as Cassian and I weaved through streets downtown. Today the city was bright, ripe with activity and flurries of people. The air was slowly getting warmer. Soon I wouldn’t have to wear a jacket anymore.

“I’ve worked enough over the past two months to take a day off every now and then. Plus, I don’t think my boss cares too much,” Cassian said with a wink.

True. It was a constant reminder that though these people were his family, he technically pulled rank over them at work, with the investigation. But when they were just together, hanging out, it completely slipped my mind.

“Are the rest of them at the office, then?”

“Azriel’s pretty much stuck to his computer monitoring any possible anomalies in Hybern’s movements. He’s got someone following him just to be safe, but so far nothing much has happened. Amren’s combing through old files and investigations affiliated with him to see if she can catch anything and researching possible loopholes to prevent him from making the sale for that land. ” He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Mor’s just trying to keep calm in the building and helping Rhys out as much as she can, but things are starting to get a little chaotic.”

“How do you guys do it all?” I asked, eyes trailing upon the buildings, which seemed to get smaller and smaller as we neared the outskirts of the city.

He shrugged and said, “We’re fighting together for something we all believe in. You don’t really need much else.”

I looked over at Cassian, his hands gripping the wheel, his face passive and calm as he slowed the car to a stop before a red light. I said, “It’s nice that you all found each other. That you all have each other.”

“And now you’ve got us as well, Archeron. And we’ve got you.”

My eyes burned as I looked out the window once more.

***

I looked up to the restaurant’s blue sign. Sevenda’s.

No other buildings stood nearby. We were about fifteen minutes out of town, and Cassian had already turned back to Prythian. I was left standing here in the parking lot, clad in my best black knee length dress, staring at a diner.

Before I could take another step, the front door opened, and there was his smiling face.

“Are you just going to stand there or are you going to come in?”

“We’ll each have your special with some bannock on the side please,” Rhys said without even glancing at the menu. I shifted in the black leather booth, gazing between him and the middle aged, brown skinned woman before us. Her stark black hair was tied back in a braid that fell down past her waist line, nearly catching on the stained apron lining her body.

“It’s been too long, Rhysand. I almost didn’t recognize you when you walked in.” She reached over and ruffled his hair, as though he weren’t the CEO of a major Prythian powerhouse corporation. Her smile was warm and teasing, her dark eyes crinkling at the corners.

Rhys rolled his eyes but smiled anyway. “You’re embarrassing me in front of a business partner, Sevenda.”

“What? She’s not your date?”

My cheeks heated. I took a sip of my water, watching Rhys expectantly, wondering how this entire debacle was going to go.

“A potential employee,” he corrected her smoothly, shooting a glance my way. “Feyre keeps declining my advances, unfortunately.”

“I’ll go on a date with you the day you wear something besides black or navy.” I said, jutting my chin out at the dark suit he wore. He must’ve had hundreds of them in his closet.

“That’s my girl. Don’t be afraid to put this boy in his place, Gods know he needs it.” Sevenda turned towards the kitchen.

“Believe me, she does.” Rhys smirked as our gazes met. His eyes shifted over me appreciatively. “Did I mention you look exquisite today Feyre?”

I replied with an eye roll, “That’s the third time you’ve told me in ten minutes.”

“Just making sure you know how delicious you look in that dress.”

“Do you have any sense of self-control?”

“Of course, but it tends to fade away when a beautiful woman looks at me like that.” He tilted his head towards me and the snarl that lined my lips.

“Be glad I’m not your employee yet, I think I’d have to file a sexual harassment claim.”

“Yet?” Rhys’s eyes glinted.

“Well, if you’d get on with your proposition, I could finally make up my mind.”

He cleared his throat. “Night Industries would like to offer you a temporary full-time position as a secretary for yours truly.” I watched as he carefully took a sip of his water, his eyes trained on me the entire time. “Mor usually does a lot of that work for me, but I need her focus on the Hybern investigation right now, and I’m spread out too thin at the moment to try and look for candidates that I know and trust to do the job well. You have some experience in an office. You’ve worked in a cafe for a year now and you know what working under pressure is like. I need that kind of person right now on my team.”

Just as he opened his mouth again, Sevenda burst from the back of the restaurant with a tray perched on her shoulder holding steaming food. Immediately, a rich, aromatic scent filled the quiet space, and my mouth watered.

Swiftly, as though she’d done this for years, Sevenda slid two plates on the table filled half with rice, half with an orange, creamy stew that made my stomach gargle. She set down two extra plates with what seemed like two round flat buns that were golden and crispy.

“Enjoy!” She chirped after refilling our glasses.

I didn’t hesitate as I took my first mouthful. Creamy, warm, sweet, salty—spicy. Not overly so, but just enough for my mouth to heat. The meat was gamey, and the vegetables tasted glorious in the saturated juices.

“Why is there nobody in this restaurant?” I demanded after swallowing my first bite.

Rhys said, “Well, we’re near the reserve. They mostly only have local regulars and travellers passing through."

I shook my head. “But this is delicious.”

Rhys was beaming. He took one of his flatbreads, bannock I was guessing, and dipped it into the stew. I did so as well, and nearly groaned at the delightful taste.

Rhys said after swallowing, “I’ve been coming here since I was a child. Restaurants like this don’t really exist in Prythian, and I sure as hell don’t know how to cook this well.”

After another bite, I added quietly, “Thank you for bringing me here.”

He only watched me with that intent stare of his, then wondered, “What do you think of my proposal?”

My fork paused halfway down to the plate. “My office experience was limited, and most probably completely different from what working with you will be like.” My lips parted to add something else, And I don’t know if I can handle the humiliation of learning simple tasks. Not quite able to meet his gaze, I said instead, “I need to know that you’ll be patient with my learning process.”

“Your first twenty hours of work will be purely training, and should you ever have questions, you never hesitate to ask. We’re a team. We all help each other out.”

“Okay.” I made a gesture in my hand, and he took it as the cue to carry on.

“Your baseline job is mainly answering phone calls and emails, manning the elevator, scheduling appointments and running other errands for me should I need them. I’ll also probably have other projects on the side concerning the Hybern investigation, like the meeting we’ve got set with the Bone Carver, but those are optional. I understand you may be uncomfortable with those.”

He looked up to me for confirmation, but I said nothing. We were both quiet for a few minutes as we ate our meal, and finally Rhys wiped his mouth with a napkin, took a sip of his water, and laid both of his palms flat on the table.

“It’s a nine to five job. It’s not necessarily difficult work, but it’s still good work. Something to get you back on your feet. I’m offering it as temporary, but say the word, and we’ll sign you on for good.” He reached into his leather messenger bag and pulled out a leather portfolio case, then slid it over to me. I tentatively opened it up, eyes darting across the document before me.

“Take the time to read it if you want. It’s legal jargon, but believe me, you’re the last person I’d screw over with fine print bullshit.”

But I wasn’t hearing him, because my eyes had trailed down to the number listed at the top of the second paragraph. It was difficult to keep my jaw from dropping to the floor.

150 000$ starting salary.

“I can’t accept that.”

He sighed. “I knew you would say that.”

I’d never seen a sum like that in my life, nevertheless in my name.

“Rhys,” I said, “it’s too much.”

“I am paying you in accordance of your work responsibilities, as well as the confidentiality of the information you’re handling. You’ll have control of files and information that could put me under should anything be leaked or spread to the mainstream media. It’s a lot to expect of someone.”

I couldn’t say anything. I could just stare at that contract, unable to meet the eyes of the man who’d veritably given me a new life. No strings attached.

Just out of the pure kindness of his heart. A friend looking out for a friend.

There was that part of the back of my mind that was blaring, this is a red flag. This is him all over again.

But he never offered me the anything. He never gave me time, or space, or options, or a way out. He dictated our lives. He had it all laid out for the two of us, the way he wanted it, whether I liked it or not.

Rhys was giving me a choice. One that I could deny, and continue living under his roof until Gods-know when I got another job, and feel like a pathetic, miserable leech.

Or I could accept his kindness. I could use this as an opportunity. Maybe not permanent—maybe work that would dress up my CV. A stepping stone.

I didn’t know what was next, what else the universe had in store for me. But I knew that this job came with a team, my friends, and as Cassian told me earlier in that car, a purpose. I was lacking that, these days.

So I finally looked Rhys straight in the eyes and said, “Do you have a pen?”

[mukettyl]

Train Rides and Late Nights // Chapter Two

click for Chapter One

(tumblr won’t let me minamize this, i’m so very sorry)

Two weeks have gone by and Eddie couldn’t get the train boy out of his mind. He rolled over onto his side to look out the ajar window at the grey morning mist covering the sky. Breathing in the fresh and foggy air, he began imagining different, intricate, ways that the scenario could have played out. He could have said absolutely anything besides, “Why are you staring at me?” But no, he just had to choose those particular six words.

He pulled the blankets around himself tighter, and let the warmth engulf him for a few moments longer, before getting out of bed.

He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, and shuddered. God, it’s cold.

He looked around for a second before deciding to put on a pair of sweatpants and oversized, worn, navy sweatshirt, over the t-shirt and boxers he had slept in. On his way to the kitchen, he regretted having not put on socks as he felt the cold linoleum tiles underneath his feet.

“Well good morning to you too, sleepyhead.”

Eddie looked up from the coffee pot he was now standing behind to pay attention to the voice coming from the living room in front of him.

“Good morning, Stan.” he replied groggily, dragging out the word “morning” until it had six extra sylobols. “One or two sugars?”

“Two, thank you.” Stan said, putting down his book, “I have to go visit Bill at some point today at the shop if you want to come with me. My engine light is on but I can’t figure out why, and I’ve stopped trying to guess.”

“Bill’s a mechanic?” Eddie asked, walking into the living room. He handed Stan his coffee and sat across from him on their lazy boy so that he could face him.

“No, not quite. But his dad and best friend are.”

“Oh, interesting.” Eddie took a long sip of his coffee before continuing with, “Yeah sure, I’ll tag along. I don't have any classes today anyways, so there’s nothing else I have going on.”

“Okay, that’ll work. I just need to get dressed and then we can head out now, if you’re ready.”

-

The two boys stepped out of the car in front of the shop. Stan had decided to completely step-up Eddie’s sweater and sweatpants by wearing a real outfit.

He was wearing a light blue polo with a blue jay embroidered onto his breast pocket, a pair of khakis, and an oversized grey cardigan. Eddie’s Betty Boop socks were no match.

Above the front doors read, “Denbrough’s Auto Repair,” in big, bold, blue letters. Eddie had never realized that Bill’s dad owned this place. He passed it all the time on the bus on his way to school, but it had never occurred to him that they could be the same “Denbroughs.”

After what seemed like ages, Bill walked out to greet Stan and help him figure out the issue with his engine light. Eddie stood there sort of awkwardly as they said their hellos and talked about the past few days in which they hadn’t had a chance to see each other.

“Hey Eddie! If you want, there are some doughnuts and coffee inside from earlier this morning. Help yourself!” Bill said to Eddie with a smile. Thank God, Eddie thought to himself, a reason to escape.

Eddie walked up the stairs and through the front doors. There was an empty front desk in front of him to the left, and a hallway that seemed to lead to a smaller room to his right. Assuming the doughnuts were in said room, Eddie took a right. He found a pot of coffee and a half empty box of a baker’s dozen on the table. Bingo.

He poured himself a cup of coffee and added creamer and two sugars. He grabbed a powdered doughnut, as well, and went to take a seat in the lobby area.

Napkins, I need napkins.

Attempting to hold his coffee upright and not drop his doughnut all while grabbing napkins was not working for him. He decided to hold the doughnut in his mouth and grab napkins with his newly freed hand, instead.

Walking into the lobby with his doughnut in his mouth, still trying not to spill his coffee, he almost didn't see the person about to walk directly into him. Correction, he did not see the person who ended up walking directly into him.

“God, my bad. Do you see my glasses anywhere?”

No way. Not now. Not today.

Eddie took a better look at the boy, who was now on his hands and knees searching for his glasses. Train boy. He recognized the tattered blue jumpsuit and the mass of dark, curly hair. The boy stood up and Eddie was able to half make out “Richie” on the jumpsuit’s nametag.

Eddie stood there dumbfounded as he watched the curly haired boy attempting to get his grounds and clean off his lenses,“Hey bud, thanks so much for the tremendous amount of help, totally not like you just stood there and let me suffer for the last minute and a- hey, it’s you!”

-

Two weeks. It’s been fourteen days since he last saw him, and he couldn’t get the damn boy off his mind. Richie had purposefully taken the night shift everyday he could, just in case they’d end up on the same train again. But it was to no avail.

After these two weeks of desperately attempting to run into him, Richie gave up. He decided to believe in destiny, fate, and all that, and that if they were meant to meet again, they would.

Richie got off work early on Thursday, so he decided to take his time on his walk to the train. He put in his earbuds and he was off. He naturally walked fast, so he knew that he’d have plenty of time to get to the station before the train reached his stop. He had about 45 minutes, so he decided to wander around the city. It was getting colder as the days passed, so Richie decided to start wearing his dad’s old bomber jacket.

After the death of his father, Richie’s mom decided that she couldn’t stay in Boston anymore. Richie and his dad never really got along. He knew he loved him, but the amount of fighting his parents did had been unbearable for him. He really didn't mind leaving it all behind. So at ten years old, Richie and his mom got on a plane and never looked back. They have now lived in Chicago for the past nine years, but since the move, things have never been quite the same.

Richie knows that his mom blames him for his father’s death. Remarks such as “Well if we never had you…” or: “God! I understand why he couldn’t put up with you anymore!”, helped his claim. He tries to not let it get to him, but it's on nights like this when it all builds up. The moon was almost full and the amount of stars visible was mesmerizing, for the city, that is.

Richie could hear the roar of the train’s engine as he approached the platform. He had continued to board the same car and sit in the same seat as he had two weeks ago. Not as if this would have changed, but the idea of maybe seeing him again was just adding to his reasoning.

-

He woke up the next morning in the dark and dying of heat. His sheets were sticking to him as if his skin were adhesive, and his mouth was as dry as the air filling his room. His blinds weren’t completely shut, but the lack of sun led him to believe that it must be before 6:00 a.m.

Fuck, it’s hot.

He knew that the furnace in his apartment would turn itself on at full blast if it got below 67 degrees fahrenheit. He knew this because he hated it with a burning passion.

He discarded the sweaty sheets off of himself by kicking at them until they fell off of his bed, and rolled over until he could reach his glasses off of his nightstand.

He sleepily propped the frames onto his nose while simultaneously trying to keep his curls from blocking his vision so that he could read the time.

5:49 a.m. Yuck.

Richie didn't have to be anywhere until 10:00 a.m. today, so he landed on a shower being his best option at the moment. Well, technically he didn't have to be anywhere today at all. But he told Bill that instead of coming in at night like usual, that he could come in today early and just stay late. Bill has been his best friend since he moved to Chicago. After hearing about the death of Richie’s father, Mr. Denbrough immediately took Richie under his wing. When he turned sixteen, Mr. D. offered him a job at his auto shop, and Richie has been working there ever since.

After lazily walking to his bathroom, Richie turned on the water in his shower. He proceeded to get undressed, which just consisted of taking off the mis-matched socks and boxers that he had fallen asleep in. The ice cold water felt soothing against his skin. He lathered his hair in shampoo that smells heavily of green apples, and just used the remnants of it to clean his body. Bill had stayed over one night and gave him trouble for not owning body wash, but couldn’t argue with the fact that Richie did always smell very good.

After drying off and wrapping a towel around his head, he walked back into his room and to his closet to get half dressed. He still had three hours before he had to leave, so there was no rush. He put on his favorite t-shirt that said, “The Revolution Is My Boyfriend” that his friend Bev had gotten him at a small thrift shop on her trip to Minneapolis with her boyfriend, and a pair of neon orange briefs.

He walked into the kitchen to make some half-assed breakfast. He poured himself a glass of orange juice and made some toast. While waiting for his bread to turn to toast, he switched on the tv. The only thing on at this hour besides infomercials and news was Seinfeld.

It’ll do.

*ding!*

“Gahh!” Richie yelped as he spilled orange juice all over himself. “Da fuck was dat foh bruhv?” To which his toaster didn’t respond.

As a child, Richie used to talk to himself extensively while his parents argued, and to keep himself entertained, he’d use accents. Now, whenever he got startled or caught off guard, he would automatically start talking in a British or Australian accent.

He picked up some paper towels and cleaned up the spilled juice as best he could. He then grabbed his toast and smeared grape jelly all over it before putting the pieces together and wrapping it in a paper towel, rather than dirtying another plate. He took his toast and the remainder of his OJ into his living room and sat down to watch Seinfeld until he had to get fully dressed.

-

As Richie walked up to the shop, he heard, “Morning, bud!” from in the doorway atop the front stairs.

Without looking up, knowing who it was, he responded with “Guten morgen, Big Bill!”

Instead of waiting for a response, he walked directly past Bill and towards the donuts he saw on the table in front of him. He grabbed one covered in strawberry icing and rainbow sprinkles. Without even bothering to ask if they were up for grabs, he ate basically half of it in one bite.

“Help yourself, I’m gonna go greet Stan, he just got here.”

With a mouth full of donut all Richie could mutter was, “O-ay. Hank youh!”

After scarfing down as many donuts as he thought he could muster before getting sick (three), he poured himself some coffee and decided to get to work. He went around back and put up the garage doors, took out the trash from the past week, and listened to the voicemails that had been left since yesterday. Because it was so early, he really didn't have much to do, so he went to go pour himself another cup of coffee when he walked smack dab into someone turning the corner as well. His glasses fell off of his face so he immediately dropped to the ground to start searching for them.

“God, my bad.” Richie managed, “Do you see my glasses anywhere?”

Richie was sure that whoever this kid that he had just ran into could see him frantically looking for his glasses, but just stood there as if everything was just peachy keen. After what felt like an hour, Richie’s hand finally felt the frames. While happy he found his glasses, he wanted to make sure whoever this schmuck was knew that he was no help.

“Hey bud, thanks so much for the tremendous amount of help, totally not like you just stood there and let me suffer for the last minute and a- hey, it’s you!”

It was him! It was the boy that had sat in his seat on the train exactly two weeks ago. The cute one who told Richie to stop staring at him. The one who was now standing in front of him and staring at Richie like a deer in headlights.

“Why on Earth are you at an auto shop at 10:00a.m.?”

The boy looked extremely flustered, and while holding a donut in his mouth, just responded with “I gotta go,” as best as he could.

“Wait, what’s your name?” Richie called after him, but he was already out the front door and down the steps.

A few moments later, Bill walked in, questioning, “Why’d Eddie just run outta here like that?”

Eddie.

(Richie’s shirt)

[gaming-now]

Life In 2027: 3 Tech Pieces We’ll All Be Using Daily

HomeLife Life In 2027: 3 Tech Pieces We’ll All Be Using Daily Life In 2027: 3 Tech Pieces We’ll All Be Using Daily Life In 2027: 3 Tech Pieces We’ll All Be Using Daily | Life360 Tips Ready for the longer-term already? After the madness of the last few years, we don’t blame you. While the tech we use daily immediately is pretty cool, the large three advancements that will unfurl within the next 10 years

will make your Apple Watch appear as if a toy. Read now and obtain ready for the planet after tomorrow. Life In 2027: 3 Tech Pieces We’ll All Be Using Daily #2 | Life360 Tips Virtual Reality It seems as if there are thousand and one movies, books, and tv programs warning us about the approaching horror of a computer game (VR). From George Saunders to Black Mirror to the new Spielberg flick, there’s tons of finger-wagging about what a post-VR world will appear as if . which makes good sense: it’s hard to predict how radical change will impact us for the positive, especially an invention that further removes us from the naturalized world. But let’s specialize in the positives: VR will revolutionize gaming and storytelling. Be it passive or active narrative consumption, the chances are endless. Imagine getting into the black boots of Darth Vader, swashbuckling within the Caribbean, or maybe calling your parents and recreating sitting within the same front room despite being in two different countries. When it involves education, VR will become an important part of the classroom. When used correctly, it is often used as a tool to excite and spark the imaginations of scholars. Remember those stuffy nature videos you wont to watch in bioscience class? Imagine watching one among those and feeling as if you’re three inches from a lion’s roar, or down within the depths like Jacques Cousteau. VR is perhaps the foremost nebulous of the things on this list because it’s hard to understand exactly how expansive its impact is going to be. But one thing is assured: it’s a brave new world and an exciting one. Life In 2027: 3 Tech Pieces We’ll All Be Using Daily #3 | Life360 Tips Automatic Cars Automatic cars will change everything. which may sound like hyperbole, but the arrival of self-driving vehicles is going to be an epoch marker, just like the rise of television, the discharge of the private computer, or the dawn of the web. How? the higher question is how won’t it impact every facet of our lives. The American ideal of the car as an extension of self is going to be eradicated. Companies like Uber and Lyft will see a dramatic drop by price — no drivers to pay equals unmatched reduced labor costs — and cities will begin to run on automatic driving. Imagine a $2 ride across town, with perfect routes and greatly reduced ride time. Beyond city commutes, automatic cars will reduce traffic on highways exponentially. Most traffic happens due to bottlenecking, where a sequence reaction occurs once the ‘lead car’ (the car at the front of traffic) slows erroneously. The car behind the primary slows further in response, then on then forth until you’re sitting in traffic for 2 hours. Robots are smarter than that. They don’t get to have the cautiousness of human drivers because they will make calculations we will hardly comprehend during a blink of an eye. On a more human level, thousands upon thousands of lives are going to be saved. Sure, detractors are already posing philosophical questions on how an automatic car should ‘choose’ between killing its passenger or an innocent bystander. But that’s missing the forest to ascertain the trees. Over 3000 people die each day in car crashes in America alone. Robots, while a touch unsettling, are far better drivers than humans.

[hedwigsimagines]

Bon voyage - Malta

There was the tiniest air of sadness when it was revealed that they would be making another series of bon voyage. Don't get me wrong, the boys were all so excited and grateful when they were given the chance to go to malta but once those feelings settled they realised that they would be apart from us for their entire break. All the talks you and V had about how you would go to the beach and teach him how to paddleboard could no longer happen as you’d be in different countries. Mine and Jin's plan of just being in each others company was also out the window. None of us were dating but we were such a huge part of each other lives that it would be hard to say goodbye for even the length of a trip. What the boys didn't know however was that their director had pulled us to one side to have a chat. He was well aware of this issue and wanted this trip to be as memorable for the members as possible since they didn't get breaks often. He offered us an earlier flight into malta as a surprise to the boys on the condition that we weren't filmed. Even though the Army loved us, it was in the best interest of us and the boys to keep hidden, which we totally understood considering some fans were too protective over them. Trying to hide our excitement we said our ‘sad’ goodbyes to everyone two days before they were due to leave. Though V insisted you stay with them until the very last second you remained strong and pretended that you needed to give them time to pack.

 In reality, me and you rushed to our apartment just down the road to pack for our flight in less than 24 hours.  It upset me to see Jin slightly tear up saying goodbye and you couldnt help but get a pang in your chest when V pouted at your goodbyes. Over the months we had spent together it was no secret that we had gotten closest with V and Jin. Everyone around us would mistake us as couples but none of us agreed despite all your and v feelings for each other and jin and mine. We kept our act up even as we boarded the plane, getting the directors to keep the boys busy so that they wouldnt question why we didnt reply straight away due to being on the plane. Though we were best friends we had our separate music and did our own thing to occupied on the journey.  I slept for the most part and you read or binged Netflix. Malta heat hit us straight away and it sunk in where we were. It took everything not to post a pic or Snapchat for fear one of the 7 would see it. They would be joining us in just over 24 hours so we made our way to the hotel to unpack. The flight really took a toll on us and we didn't really want to venture out without the guys so we opted for a girly evening with malta take out, loud music, face masks, the lot! Picking the rooms was a challenge. There were four rooms (one isn't shown in the episode as it would have given away that we were there). 

As we were settled in with a plate of food my phone lights up with a skype call…from Jin. Me and you both panic because there was no way we could let it just ring (they would get suspicious) but we clearly weren't in our house. You quickly run out of the room and come back with a massive duvet. You throw it over our heads and tell me to answer the call. All the boys are huddled around Jin, staring into the screen with our darkened faces visible. When Rm questions our setting you calmly explain that we had made a fort and that we were currently in it. The duvet covered any evidence that we were elsewhere and they seemed to believe us, though at one point a malta ad for skincare blasts loudly from the tv and I had to make a dive for the remote. They just wanted to check on us before they slept ready for their flight and we assured them that we were both perfectly okay. You kept looking at V who had a glum expression on his face. You knew that he had to join later on the trip and you wish you could be there to comfort him as he dealt with family problems. J-hope asked what presents we wanted from malta and we played along, asking for shells and loads of pictures. Jk promised to get us all matching malta tops and Jimin said he would try to smuggle malta food through the borders. Everyone eventually and regretfully said goodbye, leaving suga with Jin's phone as he went to the toilet. He makes sure no one is in the room before bringing the camera closer to him and whispering “I know where you really are”. The look on our faces makes him laugh and he says quickly that since the crew weren't inside the BTS house 24/7, they needed someone on the inside to make sure none of the other members found out. He reassured us that no one else knew and goes back to a normal conversation just as Jin walks in to get his phone back. We’ve had a tad to drink and it's gone straight to our eyes so we leave the call and head off to bed. We put everything in room 4 for the time being and sleep there until the boys arrive. The next morning we are up bright and early to get some food to stock up the fridges. The boys get an allowance for things like food and everything but we don't have a budget, so we decided to help them out on things we were certain they wouldn't consider buying like washing up liquid and shampoo. We also travel to a big outlet for a few more clothes since we don't anticipate the heat of malta and knew that dragging 7 males around a shopping centre would be absolute chaos.  ————TIME SKIP ————

We get the news that the boys have touched down in malta and try to think of a plan to surprise them. Since V isn't with them, you decide to save your ‘surprising’ for when he arrives, meaning that you come up with a simple way to surprise the other lot. You call suga secretly when you know he’s away from the others and tell him to get Jin into room number two where I’ll be hiding and waiting. Rushing around, we clean the house up so that it's not obvious someone is already there and when we hear the sounds of voices outside the hotel we get into position. I hide in room two and you wait on the porch out of sight. In our places, we hear the boys enter and their voices echo around the large living room. We’ve been with them so much that we can tell that its j-hope who leaps up the stairs and jimin that follows with lighter steps. They inspect every single room except from room 4 which they are told is the staff's room and off-limits which they respect. Suga lingers a little longer in each room to see if he can spot either of us but even he can't see any trace of us. After they have excitedly run around the whole house, they gather in the front room to decide on who sleeps where. When you know the coast is clear you sneak into the kitchen and boil the kettle. None of the boys seem to notice the sound from the front room and you get ready for your surprise. You wait a few moments then in your most casual voice ever you call out “who else wants a tea?”. The boys freeze in their places. They were used to you calling that back at home but there was no way that they all imagined it in their heads at the same time. None of them move, they are actually a bit scared that it could be a ghost. When no one replies to you, you smirk knowing how scared they must be. Since no one wants to check the kitchen for ghosts Jk decides to reply as a joke “ Me please?”. When you shout back an “okay!” Everyone in the room loses their shit. J-hope jumps into Jks arms while jimin, who is sat closest to the kitchen stares motionless at the source of the voice. Rm is counting staff and tells everyone that it's not a staff member as they are all present. After a couple more minutes you give in , too excited to keep the secret and walk calmly into the living room. “one or two sugars?” you ask calmly and everyone roars in surprise. J-hope and Rm run up and tackle you into a hug. Jk claps in pure surprise while suga laughs hysterically.

 No one can really formulate a sentence other than “What, how, why?” as they stare at you in disbelief. J-hope clings to his chest and in fake annoyance tells you that he legit thought he was talking to a ghost. You perch a seat next to him and giving a knowing look to suga who explains he was in on it. Among all of this, jin looks around as though searching for something or someone. You put on your acting head again (you’re surprisingly good) and look sadly at him. “Faith really did want to come,” you say comfortingly “But there were too many things going on”. He smiles kinda sadly but insists that he understands, after all you’re there and that's amazing! They try and get you to tell the story of how you got to malta but, knowing that you cant without mentioning me, you suggest they pick rooms now and you can talk over dinner. You also make them swear not to tell V and they all pinky promise. Jin is a bit quiet and you lot all try to get him to perk up. Suga tells him that maybe room number two is the best option for him so that he can stay up later in peace to skype me at night. It seems to have worked since he takes the bait and chooses room number two. I've been hiding in the wardrobe for a little over an hour now and you’ve had to come in with some cut up apple so that I don't die in the heat of the cupboard. As Jin sits on his bed with his back facing me I quietly creep up behind him and put my hands over his eyes. He obviously thinks my hands are jimins and lets down his guard for a brief moment to tell “jimin” that he wished I was there. It's only when i let go of his eyes that he turns around and his jaw hits the floor. He looks at me then to the, now open, wardrobe with bits of apple inside, then back to me before engulfing me in a huge bear hug. He is totally silent and we stay there for a while in a big ole hug. RM comes in to check on Jin and when he sees me he shouts “NO WAY!”. You hear this and gather that I've come out of hiding so a hint that the boys should go to Rm.

 For the second time, the guys are dumbfounded and super excited. Jimin slings an arm around you playfully and ruffles your hair with his hand (He is the ONLY one that can just about get away with this for you). Jk joins in with mine and jins hug and tips the three of us over on the bed which creates a massive bundle with everyone. We all sit up, now all on the double bed overlapping limbs and i notice Jin secretly wipe a few tears from his eye but his smile tells me those are happy tears. We stay on the bed for the whole story of how we ended up in Malta and tell them that room 4 was actually our room. Suga makes a joke about how I may as well move my stuff to room 2 with Jin and you stay in room 4 to share with V which makes the three of us (excluding V obviously) blush slightly. But Jin says its a great idea and I can't help but grin that the male i have feels for actually wants to share a room with me. They are filled in on the rules that we are not to be filmed as best as possible for safety reasons and that the editing team is good enough for us to still join in and be edited out later on. No one has really noticed that time has passed so drastically until Rm, whose shoulder you are leaned on, looks out the window to see the Sun beginning to ever so slightly set. It triggers a wave of hunger in all of us and as we get up and stretch, we divide jobs up in order to make dinner. With it still being light outside you , Jimin , Jk and Suga go and explore a bit and get some fresh air while me , j-hope ,Jin and RM go in another direction to get food for later.

SO I made up a whole Tae story for my best friend and wanted to share it with you so if you want another part feel free to ask! Writing isn't my strong point so its more of a casual story ? 

[treasure-my-aurora]

We’ve got Tonight

• Summary: I’d known Felix since before he was born. My tiny preschool hand would often press flat against his mother’s round belly while I looked up at her with surprised innocent eyes as the baby inside kicked against my hand. Known him as a brother, a best friend and a rock to lean against through my whole life. But now, in just a month, he’d be going away to train with some of the best in the industry, and with time running out, perhaps there is more than just platonic feelings between us… something that would bring up more pain, jealousy and sorrow than we could ever imagine.

♥ Pairing: Bang Chan/Reader/Felix

♦ Chapter: 2/9

♣ Words: 4676

♠ Genre (in this one): Fluff, angst, teasing

It was Saturday evening, sometime around 10 pm and our apartment was full. Alcohol was flooding and for once, everyone in our group of friends was there. Two girls I’d befriended from work had joined on my request as well and both were already chatting up Changbin, Han and Jeongin. As the oldest of the group, all the boys included, I often felt responsible for them all and needless to say, I felt like the most boring adult ever when I clinked my glass with one of the girls to get her attention and nodded towards the smiley boy at the end of the sofa. His non-alcoholic carbonated drink in a steady grip as he listened in on the conversation between his hyungs and the girl closest to him. “Just a small warning” I paused, felt how I slurred slightly and took another sip of whatever it was Chris had mixed together. Grimaced slightly to the way too sweet taste before I continued, “Our youngest friend is only here because he enjoys the crowd” I nodded towards Jeongin and the girl I was talking to glanced at him before she looked back at me with big surprised eyes, ”He might try to convince you that he’s just as drunk as the rest of us but it’s just a big fat lie and he only wants to get laid” “No need to be a party pooper, noona” Jeongin said with a large pout and I only stuck out my tongue before giving him a big smile. Pursed my lips slightly when he rejected the love heart I formed over my head. A stern look on his face while shaking his head in disappointment and for a second I got worried that he was angry, but he couldn’t hold the stoic mask for long and soon enough broke out in a smile that crinkled the corners of his eyes. “Anyone wanna play a game?” Chris voice suddenly roared over the music and all of us looked up at him from our scattered places across the room. He stood in the corridor that connected our bedroom with the rest of the apartment and for a split second I got scared that his drunken mind would’ve found it funny to share the box of sex toys we had hidden underneath our bed. “What?” Jisung screamed out from the top of his lungs but only received frightened eyes from my two co-workers, the rest of us were used to it by now. “Spin the bottle” Chris screamed back and revealed the old whisky bottle that he’d hidden behind his back the whole time. I sighed deeply in relief and caught his eyes as he gathered the group into a circle on the floor. “You really thought I was going to do something naughty, don’t you?” He whispered as he sat down, right next to me. Fingers playing with the hem of my high waisted black jeans as he pulled my whole body towards him and I shivered slightly as he placed a sloppy kiss underneath my ear. I looked up, accidentally met Felix eyes across the circle, bottle in a tight grip and frozen momentarily in the motion of bringing the drink to his lips as he watched when my face changed as I sighed from the added pressure of Chan’s teeth grazing my skin and the small nibbles that followed, causing pink splotches of colour to blossom over the side of my neck. The moment only lasted for a few seconds though, before he looked away as if nothing had happened. His Adam’s apple bobbing as he downed the whole drink in one go. Excused himself from the group, even though no one listened, walked past us to the fridge to get something else and Chris asked (shouted) over his shoulder if Felix could be a dear and get him something as well. He doesn’t notice the look he gets in return, no one does because no one would. But I’d known him before he even took his first breath on planet earth and the small twitch in the corner of Felix mouth, the way his eyes rolled ever so slightly- was of clear annoyance and I wondered what my boyfriend now had done that had put the younger in such a bad mood. I wanted to reach out for him when he walked past us again, to try and cheer him up but decided against it as he placed a beer in front of Chris and another one in front of me. Only gave me a small look to confirm when I silently, without using anything else than the body language only the two of us knew, thanked him for bringing me something that I could finally drink. The evening continued and I didn’t know how I ended up in my boyfriend’s lap as two hours passed. Maybe it was from a dare, maybe it was because his hands hadn’t left my hips the whole time. Almost fucking up the game multiple times because the group could never decide if it pointed towards me or him. I was drunk, knew it from the thick cotton ball feeling in my head to my slightly numb fingers and the way my heart thumped hard in my chest. Stuck in that perfect stage when I had just enough to remember my every action the next day but still felt invincible at the moment. I revelled in it- the feeling. Chris body was warm underneath mine and my breath hitched when I felt how he tried to undo my belt buckle for the third time within the hour. I tried to wiggle away but he kept me locked where I was with two secure hands locked around my hips, and thrusted up slightly against my ass instead, just to tease me. I playfully hit his hand and shook my head as he rolled my body onto his half hard cock, the same way he’d been doing for the last fifteen minutes, and gave him another look of disapproval as a breathless gasp escaped my lips against my will, scolded him without using words but he just shrugged and gave me an innocent smile. “Ok, ok, we get it. You guys wanna fuck. It’s literally 12 am and this party is just getting started. Get over yourselves or get it over with” Hyunjin shouted, annoyance and what could be depicted as jealousy in his voice, from across the room and Chris hands were back around my waist as people around us laughed loudly from the shameless words. Chris pouted as his fingers drummed on my jean clad thighs, puppy eyes and all. Even fluttered his lashes a few times and I rolled my eyes to him as I tried to fight off the arousal that already burned between my legs from the thought of his cock pounding me while our friends were waiting for us on the other side of the apartment. “You’re a lucky girl” One of my co-workers shouted the moment I stood up and Chris followed, the dent of his own arousal clear as day because of the tight ripped blues he was wearing and Changbin, Han and Minho shouted more and more vulgar words after us as Chris took my hand, kissed it as he bowed, almost theatrically before he leaned down and surprisingly easy, considering how much we’d been drinking, swooped me off my feet and started to carry me bridal style to our bedroom. I caught Felix eyes and for the first time in my entire life, couldn’t immediately recognize the expression he on his face. Lips parted and eyes hooded as he brought the bottle in his hands to his lips again. Knuckles nearly white from holding onto it too hard and I feared for a moment that it would break and shatter in his hand. Tongue flicking out to wet his lower lip and he raised the bottle to me just before Chris closed the bedroom door, gave me a small wink as a cheeky goodbye with one brow raised, but his lips were pressed together in a way I only recognized as anger. - “I need a hug. A three hour one” I stumbled through Felix’s door and he looked at me with a small smile while putting his hand on my back to make sure that I didn’t stumble over his doormat. I was fresh of work, fatigued and tired. Feet and back hurting and I regretted for the thousand time that I didn’t just put away some money to buy a proper pair of shoes. “Tough day at work?” He asked and I nodded while kicking off my shoes and laid down in his bed. Closed my eyes and winced in pain as my back relaxed against the soft mattress. Felt the bed dip as he sat down next to me while placing a comforting hand on my thigh. The slight pressure as he splayed it over the sensitive area made me shudder slightly. “Do you want me to hold you?” He asked and I nodded again while scooting over slightly. He laid down next to me and I turned around, still with my eyes closed, and nuzzled up next to him. Breathed in deeply, felt how my entire body shook when I inhaled the smell of him and how relaxed I felt after I exhaled again. Heard him snort out a small laugh from my action and knew that he smiled brightly- were so used to it that I could see it against the darkness of my eyelids, as if my eyes were open. He placed his arms around me, hugging me close and I buried my nose against the place he sprayed his cologne, just above the collarbone. Felt him twitch slightly from the ticklish feeling while placing a delicate kiss on the crown of my head. “You smell like coffee” He whispered against me and I hummed back, “I know, I’m sorry” He chuckled and took a deep breath himself, laid his hand flat against my back and pressed us as close as we possible could. Connected from top to bottom with our legs tangled and I felt how my heart skipped a beat. “I just mind the taste, not the smell, and certainly not on you” “Cheeseball” I would’ve stuck my tongue out at him but didn’t want to move away from my place so close to him. We grew silent. Just listened to the sound of shuffling in the rooms around us, to music that played from a boom blaster outside, a car that honked from the road off campus and a tv programme in the common room downstairs. “I can’t help but to be selfish. Laying like this, really make me hesitate on actually going away” Felix voice was soft, or well, as soft as he could muster, and I felt how my body coiled slightly from the words as it twisted and turned inside me. He sounded so full of angst, of sorrow that it hurt me, and I quickly shook my head and reached up to comb my fingers through the hair at the back of his head. Felt how he gasped harshly as the tingly feeling sent ripples down his spine and I took a staggering breath against him while I repeated the action. “You need to go though. There’s-” “No discussion… I know, noona. I just-” “Want to stay as well” He didn’t answer. Didn’t need to. I felt how his pulse picked up as his heart thumped hard against me. “I’d be lying if I said that I’ll be ok. That I won’t cry. That I won’t miss you. That I won’t miss moments like this… But to think so is selfish. The logical part of my brain knows that you will return to me. That you will come back so, so much stronger. With experience that will be vital to your studies, and for you to be able to do what you want in life” He was silent. Just stroked down my hair as he listened, and I was pretty sure that his eyes were closed as well. Just enjoyed this quiet moment of peace and serenity between us, “You know. It’s been some time since I was that bigger sister that always had your back. Since you were the one who looked up to me” “I still look up to you, noona. You’re kind. Well spoken. Beautiful. Put together” “Put together?” I chuckled a little, tried to ignore the voice that happily cackled like a maniac in my mind when he called me ‘beautiful’ and he returned the humour in his slightly exaggerated words, “Not put together then, no one really is. But I mean… strong… you know? You’ve always been. Ever since we moved away from our parents. You took care of me, and my teenage shenanigans every day. Made sure that I did my homework, made sure that the bills were paid on time, made sure that I had dinner in me before going to bed and breakfast before going to school. Even after I moved out and you moved in with Chris, you never faltered. You still do those little things. You have a job that you enjoy and people that love you” “That’s just being an adult, though” I smiled at him. Appreciative of the sweet words but protesting against them anyway, “There’s not many people who can say that they adult good though. You’re a good role model” I hummed a response. Not really knowing how to answer. - It was intoxicating. In the sweetest way possible. The weight of his body against my own as he leaned back against my chest. He’d come crawling up against me like a cat who craved warmth after finishing his studies. Slightly slumped over in front of me as I watched the small TV, propped up on an unstable table at the other end of the bed. Complained with a big pout that he was cold and needed me, and who was I to reject him? Who was I to say anything when he gave me a smile that made butterflies flutter in my stomach before comfortably laying down in my arms with his head resting against my boobs, using them as a pillow. My left arm thrown over his hard chest while the other automatically removed the cap he wore to reveal those bouncy lilac locks of his. I know that the “right thing”- what society told us every time we displayed physical affection and people realized we weren’t a couple, would be to protest when he laid down in that position. But we’d grown up like this, basically joined at the hip. So accustomed to each other that it was as if our bodies had grown up to fit against each other like puzzle pieces. To always lay so, so close to each other that the situation didn’t feel weird at all. My fingers combed through his hair, the softness of it rippled like water between my fingers and I couldn’t help but place a small kiss on the crown of his head when he looked up to meet my eyes, watched me upside down for a few seconds before he closed his eyes again as I moved some hair that had fallen onto his forehead, my fingertips brushing against the barely noticeable thought wrinkles there and I had to remind myself to breathe when he gave me another soft smile. I didn’t know what was on the TV anymore, didn’t care much either as he aimed his focus back to the screen, a breathy hum of satisfied content erupt from his throat when I scraped my nails softly against his scalp. “Stay the night?” He asked with a voice that didn’t think I would, and I frowned. Thought about Chris and felt a tinge of guilt in my heart when I wondered if he sat up and waited for me, if he went to bed on time like he’d promised or if he, like he usually did when I wasn’t home, spent the night out with friends. “Sure” I said, thinking that my apartment would most likely be cold and empty if I went home and Felix looked back at me again, that bright smile that I loved so much on his lips as he hugged around my left arm tightly and even though the act; with his smile, the adoration he displayed, the way he pressed closer to me, nuzzling his back harder onto my frame to get even closer- was part of a cute behaviour that made me softly smile, the muscles on his stomach clenched and my breath almost hitched as my fingertips brushed against the hard abs through the thin white tee he wore. He didn’t seem to notice though, or at least that’s what I thought at first but knew that I was busted the second he met my eyes. “Do you wanna see?” He asked with an unusual mixture of pride and insecurity and I guess the subconscious part of me, the one that has had way too many thoughts about him these last few days, must’ve nodded because he stood up, met my eyes and I sat up straighter as he hooked his fingers around the lining of his shirt and raised it high enough to show off what I’d felt but still low enough to keep the feeling of modesty between us. My mouth fell open. I didn’t realize it at first but the smile on Felix face told me so as he looked away, pink dusting his cheeks and I had to remind myself to breathe again. “You look…” I started but didn’t had to finish, as per usual. “Thank you. It’s nice to see that months of training finally pays off” He continued and looked down on himself. My fingers twitched in my lap and I swallowed hard, hoping that he hadn’t noticed, but he looked back at me at the same second and while one hand held up his shirt, the other reached out for me, “Come on, you can touch” “You make it seem like I’ve never seen abs before” I chuckled but still accepted the hand that took mine before he pressed it against the hardness on his stomach. I bit down on my tongue as my fingertips brushed back and forth, and he grinned from ear to ear when I still let out a small gasp of surprise, “I’m not saying that you’ve never seen abs. But it’s been some time, eh?” I met his eyes after he spoke. Embarrassed that he could read me like an open book. He let go of my hand, probably thinking that I’d let him go too, but the cogwheels in my mind worked fast, spiralled into a plan of mischief and I kept my hand where it was. Splayed it open against his stomach before it was joined by my other and I placed them around his hips instead, pulled on his whole body and he was forced to take a step forward towards me. I pushed aside my morals, my emotions and gave him a sweet smile from my place on the low sofa, thumbs rubbing down his hip bones and he seemed to realize the compromising position I was in as well. If he’d take another small step, I’d be close enough to press my lips against the exposed skin he was still showing. He could feel traces of my warm breath against him and the tips of my pinkies slip into the lining of his trainers. Even more noticeable, and I tilted my head with a small pout on my lips when his mouth fell open and a harsh gasp escaped his throat when I leaned forward while glancing down at his crotch- I could easily slide the rest of my hands into his pants and let him slip into my mouth without moving another centimetre. His cock twitched in his pants as he thought the same thing. Gulping slightly as his cheeks flushed and I met his eyes again as I smiled happily while pushing him backwards to put some space between us again. “I’m not saying that you’ve never had sex. But it’s been some time, eh?” I imitated him and he rolled his eyes before cursing loudly, pulled down his shirt low to cover himself. “Noona. You scared me for a second” He complained and slumped down next to me while grabbing a pillow to press against his crotch in the process and I chuckled at him. “Why?” I asked and he flushed even redder. Refused to answer the question. - Another stressful week had passed, and I felt bad for Chris when I once again rejected his suggestion to go to the cinema and watch a movie as soon as he had finished his essay. He was probably home by now, reading the note I’d written to him about where I was, that he should eat while the food I cooked for him was still warm and promised that I’ll be home early enough for us to watch a movie at home instead before it got too late. Felix hand was warm in mine as we laid on a double layered blanket on the hood of my car. Parked in the middle of a parking lot to the biggest shopping centre in our part of town. Dressed for the cold weather outside. The sky was clear, temperature a bit chilly but still calm, without any wind. He pointed out the stars for me, like he’d done so many times before and I was unsure if he understood that I only pretended that I didn’t know them all already or if he thought that it was one thing that I simply just couldn’t remember. He didn’t seem to mind repeating them though and I smiled softly when he tested my knowledge. Harshly clenched my jaw from the laugh that bubbled from his chest as I (purposely) told him the wrong answer and felt how my heart ached, because every time he laughed like that, with twinkling eyes into two thin crescents and pearly whites shining, I was reminded that he would be going away. “I’m going to miss you” I said just as he had questioned me again, turning my head so I could meet his eyes. “Wrong! It’s actually Cassiopeia” He said with a fully serious face but the mask fell quickly when my mouth fell open from the disrespect he just showed me, “I’ll miss you too, noona” He quickly added and I huffed slightly as I looked up to the stars again. “I bet I’m going to miss you more though” I said and felt my cheeks heat up from the sudden confession, “It’s not a competition, noona” Felix said softly, and I chuckled under my breath, but it sounded forced, painful, “You’re going to be busy with a full schedule all day and I’m going to wonder if you still want to be my friend when you get back or if you’ve found some cool girl that can mirror the dance moves you do. Someone that will be your new best friend because you’ll share more interests with her” I looked away, chewed on my inner cheek as the words spilled from my lips. Leaving out the rest of the sentence that I wanted to say. That I was worried he was finally going to fall in love with someone his own age, someone that would be the reason why he’d move away from me permanently. “You’re joking, right?” Felix asked with a voice that echoed the disbelief of the question. We were close, shoulder to shoulder and for a minute I could feel him breathing hard next to me, like the subject bothered him more than he wanted to admit, “Even if I befriended some “cool girl” there will never be someone like you, noona” He squeezed my hand and I squeezed back on pure reflex, hiding a small smile underneath my scarf “I’m more scared that Chris will put his thoughts into action and kidnap you to an undisclosed location so that he can finally have you for himself” He chuckled to himself and combed back his hair before he placed his arm behind his head to lay more comfortably, looking about as embarrassed as I felt myself when we opened up to each other, “He has always been jealous of me, you know. We still fight about it, five years later. I think we’ll always fight about... it” He grew silent and I swallowed hard, feeling how he wanted to say ‘you’ but switched the word to ‘it’ in the last second, changing the whole sentence by doing so. I didn’t know how to answer. Mostly since I’d been thinking about them, the same thoughts, as well, scared that even after this long, the bond that I shared with Felix had never wavered. Had never been affected, like I thought it would when I got together with Chris. Felix cleared his throat, a bit uncomfortable as the mood between us seemed to ripple a little. I wondered if he felt like I did at that moment. Like all the things that had just simmered in our bodies for years started to boil up, scorching us as the amount of time before his departure shortened. It was uncomfortable and I didn’t know what to do or what to say to make myself feel better. To make it feel like I didn’t betray the trust Chris had towards me, even though the most intimate thing me and Felix had ever done was the thing we were doing at the moment- just holding hands, cuddling as we watched a movie or huddling as close together as we could when the only comfort we could find was within one another, because there was no beginning where he also ended, only each other and vice versa. There had been moments when we’d teased each other, like that time a few days ago when I accidentally (on purpose) made him hard after touching his abs… but the situation has always been playful, like we’d just been joking around. “I uh… have tea, if you’d like” I steered away from the subject of him leaving, of Chris potentially taking me away and the feelings I still felt stirring in my belly and he nodded happily as we sat up and he turned towards me as I opened my bag to grab the thermos before I poured him a mug of the hot beverage. He switched hand with mine after a while, thoughtful since that hand had been heated up from the tea and I gave him a small smile before our eyes wandered back against the sky. He was truly the most gorgeous human I’d ever seen, and I couldn’t help but watch him as he continued to watch the sky. Dressed in trainers as usual, with a chunky turtleneck sweater and a thick jacket, all black from numerous brands, looking effortlessly well dressed, in a way I’d never succeeded. Shoulders raised and chin hidden in the extra fabric around his neck to protect himself from the chilly air. Soft purple hair sticking out from underneath a beanie and those freckles of his splattered over the bridge of his nose, cheeks and eyelids like the stars in the sky. Lips pouting slightly as he counted the gleaming constellations above and I counted the freckles on his face, even though I knew the exact amount of them already. Cursed myself as I leaned forward and swiped away a crumb of chip that had gotten stuck in the corner of his lips from when we ate snacks while watching the sun go down earlier. He whispered a small, “Thank you” and I pretended that I wasn’t curious if his lips tasted like the salty tanginess of the chip he’d eaten.

[kumkaniudaku]

Trick and Treat

A/N: The first of two Halloween one shots. Enjoy. 

“C’mon and ease on down, ease on down, down the road! Don’t you carry nothing that might be a load…”

Songs from “The Wiz” oozed from the Bluetooth speaker positioned at the edge of your vanity as you put the finishing touches on a simple scarecrow makeup look from Pinterest. From the corner of your eye, you caught a glimpse of Micah attempting to mimic Michael Jackson’s iconic cross foot shuffle only to get her feet tangled before crashing to the ground with an amused giggle.

“Mommy’s sorry she passed down her two left feet to you, baby. Trust me, it gets better.”

“For her, sure. The jury is still out on you.”

You rolled your eyes with a small smirk as Chadwick rounded the corner into the closet carrying the co-star of the Halloween Night Show in his adorable costume. For months you spent time brainstorming the perfect family costume that would proudly stand next to the couple’s costumes that Chadwick planned for the adult parties. Separate events saw you and Chadwick as Dwayne Wayne and Whitley Gilbert before transitioning into outfits that resembled Michael Jackson and Iman’s ‘Remember the Time’ get up. Though your husband had set the bar high for the family costume, you knew just what to do.

Micah had been obsessed with The Wiz from the moment she heard ‘You Can’t Win,” often begging to watch it multiple times a week. So, it came as no surprise when she was firm in her decision to be Dorothy for Halloween at school. The idea carried over into the house, and with four members of the family, the idea fit like a glove.

“Hush, Tin Man. How’s my mean ol’ lion,” you cooed, allowing Chadwick to carefully place Noah in your arms.

“He’s been mean alright. He refused to take a nap while you and Mikey went out for candy, and now he’s cranky.”

“Not my baby. He’s never cranky. Can you give mommy a biiiiiig lion’s roar?” Noah stirred in your arms, peering up at you through hooded eyes before opening his mouth to let out a long yawn and whimper that let you know he was close to tears if he couldn’t go to sleep soon.

Chadwick released a hushed snicker at your expense, “Yeah, that was a huge lion’s roar. Good job, AJ. Maybe we should just, you know, stay home.” Chadwick’s suggestion came with a tug at the uncomfortable collar around his neck. He was attempting a last ditch effort to stay at home to avoid being seen in public as a six foot, dark-skinned tin man.

“I don’t care if he sleeps the entire time, we’re taking Micah Trick or Treating for at least an hour.”

“But, baby -”

“Don’t ‘baby’ me!”

“Okay, then I’ll Tasha you. Look at me. I look like a baked potato. I can’t go out like this.”

“You look shiny like a pretty diamond, Daddy,” Micah chimed in. The thought of her father not holding her hand as she pranced down the street in her custom, ruby-colored shoes forced the corners of her lips to sag into a frown. “Don’t you wanna go get candy with me?”

Chadwick looked between his twin and you, shooting you a glare when he caught you wiping a satisfied smirk from your face. He was no longer in a position to back out, and both of you knew it.

Releasing a deep breath, Chadwick kneeled down to speak to his pride and joy.

“I don’t wanna do anything else but take you to get candy, Princess. Are you excited?”

“Yes! I wanna get all the candies! Especially the chocolates!”

“Especially the chocolates,” he laughed. “Hey, how about you go grab your bag and wait downstairs for me with I talk to your Mama? Can you do that for me, Dorothy?”

“Yes, sir!” The soft click of her hard bottom ballet flats striking the hardwood floors faded with each second until only silence hung in the large walk-in closet. The sweet twinkle in his eye from seeing Micah smile was quickly replaced by a hard glare in your direction that tried to ignore.

“You can stand there and pout all you want, Coffee Can. I’m not giving you any attention,” you warned him with your back turned as you secured Noah’s noise-canceling headphones against his sensitive ears.

“It’s all good, Co. One day, you’re gonna wanna take a sip of this coffee and the answer will be no.”

“Yeah right! You know you want a little cream for your coffee!” Turning to face him, you found him ending his visual journey across your backside with a smirk.

“That’s tempting, baby, but I’m vegan. No cream in this coffee. Coconut milk only.”

“Oh so, you’re Michael now. You’re canceled. Get out of here.”

If not for the barrier covering his ears, Chadwick’s boisterous laughter would have startled Noah from his sleep.

“You can’t cancel this black man, T!”

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

“Micah, what are the rules for trick or treating,” Chadwick asked as the group approached the first house on the block.

“Stay close to Mommy and Daddy, don’t eat the candy until we get home, and say please and thank you every time.”

“Good job. That’s my girl.”

Your usually quiet Los Feliz neighborhood was now teeming with youth of every age dressed in a range of costumes from adorable to downright scary. 

As a child, your mother never allowed Halloween themed activities. If you and Tiana weren’t stuffed in the back of her station wagon and carted off to the nearest Hallelujah Festival, you were forced to stay at home and watch your friends return with buckets overflowing with treats. With that memory in mind, you promised yourself that you would give your children the opportunity to at least experience the cultural activity.

What you hadn’t accounted for was the type of neighborhood you would live in. Never did you imagine to be the ethnic minority on your street. The amount of full-sized candy bars casually left on doorsteps with instructions to only take one was astounding. Even more shocking were the looks you all received as one of a few black families in search of spooky treats.

You and Chadwick would’ve welcomed family photos with open arms if he meant that it would replace the occasional shocked stares from your neighbors further down the street.

Approaching the first house seemed to set the tone for the evening. With her afro puffs swinging in the wind, Micah nearly drug her father to the front porch to test her award-winning trick or treat song and smile.

“Oh, and look at you,” the older white woman gushed. “I’ve never seen a brown Dorothy before! And look at your hair. So wild!”

“Excuse me,” you blurted, earning a look from Chadwick.

Before Chadwick could offer the woman a much more civilized response to the woman’s ill-mannered remark, Micah took the lead.

“My Daddy says my hair grows to the sky like a crown made by God. This is how it’s ‘posed to look.”

All within earshot stood with their mouths agape at the class exhibited by a child that was missing most of her front teeth and not old enough to understand the ignorant undertones directed at her appearance. You, on the other hand, stood tall. All of the confidence you and Chadwick had worked to instill in her from the moment she was born had manifested into a reality tv show caliber read.

“Well...I guess your Daddy is right. Would you, um - would you like Snickers or Twix,” the woman asked, obviously flustered by Micah’s response.

The six-year-old gladly accepted the shiny gold wrapper housing two sticks of chocolate before adding a chipper thank you and grabbing her father’s hand for the journey to the next house.

Four houses down with no mishaps gave you hope that things would turn around for your first Halloween as a parent. Noah was now awake and receiving attention from every mother and grandmother on the block. Micah dazzled with the charm she inherited from her father dialed up to the highest notch. Several families provided extra candy for their cuteness while others requested pictures with the family as a whole to be thrown up on their personal social media channels.

Arriving at a beautifully decorated house swarming with underaged visitors, you noticed a few disappointed faces retreating down the long driveway to other houses. Still, you passed it off as unhappiness with the amount of candy received and followed Chadwick and Micah to the front step.

“Trick and Treat,” Micah exclaimed before she could reach the homeowner.

“A trick and a treat, huh? My kind of girl! Who are you, lovely?”

“I’m Dorothy from The Wiz! My Daddy is the Tin Man, Mommy is Michael Jackson, and my brother is a baby lion.”

The confusion on the young man’s face reminded you and Chadwick that you may have forgotten to inform your oldest that not everyone had seen The Wiz. She assumed that everyone knew Michael Jackson as a scarecrow, but judging by the blank look in his eyes, it was evident he was unaware that there was a more urban version of his childhood classic.

“What she meant to say is I’m the scarecrow from The Wizard of Oz. Sorry for the confusion.”

“That’s great because I was just about to tell you that this is the worst Michael Jackson costume I’ve ever seen!” His attempt at a joke made Chadwick tense for a moment before catching your eyes pleading with him to calm down. At thirty minutes into the adventure, you both were starting to wonder if this was a good idea.

“Where are your candies,” Micah asked, craning her neck around the porch in search of the plastic bowl she’d grown accustomed to.

“No candy here, little one! Candy is bad for your teeth. But, I do have these!” Reaching into the Hello Kitty backpack that accompanied his Deadpool costume, he presented an apple to Micah with a smile. “Here you go, my friend. One Fuji apple just for you and a Koppleman Family Dentistry business card. Feel free to come by and see us for the post-Halloween cavities. Would you like one for the cub in the stroller?”

Chadwick reluctantly accepted the card and the apple meant for Noah. “Uh, thanks man. We’ll make sure check you out when we get a chance.”

“Mommy, I thought Halloween was for candy!”

“Micah Noelle! Hush!”

“But, you said-”

“Have a nice night, man! Dope costume by the way. Let’s go, Munchkin!”

Scooping Micah under his arm, Chadwick led the mad dash for the street to prevent any more comments from his daughter.

From that point, strange happenings seemed to follow that family at every stop. Word got out that Chadwick Boseman had been spotted in the area, drawing families without Halloween goodies out of their homes and into their front yards for a glimpse at the Black Panther.

A family dressed as the Justice held Chadwick on their front porch for several minutes in an attempt to convince him that he should make the switch to DC and play The Green Lantern. Two doors down, a lively bunch of mimes made Noah scream bloody murder at first contact, leading you to stand at the edge of the driveway while Micah asked questions that they would not verbally respond to.

Rounding out the night, perhaps the strangest occurrence you had ever witnessed would prove to cap a bizarre experience.

“Mommy, look, a red balloon,” Micah shouted as she pointed to the object floating in mid-air on the dimly lit porch.

A sign on the home’s mailbox read, “We’re not home, but there’s candy in the bowl. Take IT.”

“Take the whole bowl? That’s dumb as hell,” Chadwick remarked, reading the note a second time for clarity. “It must be a typo.”

“Whatever it is, make this quick. My makeup is starting to sweat off and it’s getting dark.”  

“Can I eat some candy tonight? Pleaaaaaase? Pretty please?”

“Two pieces and that’s it. C’mon so we can grab your last one and get back home for a bath.”

Micah nodded with the same level of enthusiasm that she started the evening with. Her hair bounced in the wind beside her father as they took the short trek up the driveway and to the front porch. An eerie silence greeted the pair, and the closer they got, the more Chadwick sensed something was wrong.

“Stay right here, Boop. I’ll grab the candy and bring it to you.”

Though disappointed, Micah followed her father’s instructions and remained in place.

Chadwick approached the step on the defensive, putting you on edge once you noticed his calculated movements. One step at a time, Chadwick approached the bowl to grab the desired sweet treat for his daughter.

“You’ll float too.” A voice spoke, tiny and almost too quiet for comfort.

“Oh hell nah,” Chadwick spoke to himself. “Aye, baby, let’s go. It’s some weird sh- AYE WHAT THE FUCK?”

In the darkest corner of the porch stood a terrifying version of Pennywise the Clown sporting a morbid smile and glowing yellow contacts. The figure, clearly a member of whatever family lived in the house, stepped from his shadowy hiding place to “greet” Chadwick.

“If you need help, Don, help yourself to a balloon.” The clown never dropped his smile as he walked closer to Chadwick with his hand outstretched.

“The clown is gonna get Daddy,” Micah screeched during her full sprint to find you at the edge of the driveway. “Daddy, make him stop!”

“Hey, man, she has enough candy. We’ll just go home.”

“Want a balloon?”

Without warning, the person behind the costume made a move that startled Chadwick. Quick and misplaced reflexes ended the interaction with a swift jab to the nose and a pained groan from whoever dared to use a demon clown as a welcoming committee for a neighborhood event.

“My nose! Fuck, dude, my nose!”

“Trent,” Chadwick questioned, finally recognizing the voice.

Trent, your neighbor three doors down and a respected pediatrician, slumped against the railing of his porch to allow the blood seeping from his nostrils to fall into his manicured bushes.

“Shit, man, I’m sorry. I didn’t know. Baby,” he called out to you to get your attention. “It’s just Trent. I think I broke his nose.”

“You what?! We can’t afford a broken nose? Ask him if he wants a band-aid.”

“No, I do not want a bandaid,” Trent answered before Chadwick could ask the question. “It’s not broken, but I have a hell of a headache. You should have those hands of yours registered as weapons. I’ve never seen anybody move that fast.”

“You scared the shit outta me, man. How can we make this up to you?”

“My wife really loves Tasha’s green apple pie. You think she could make us a couple to impress the family with for Thanksgiving?”

“Baby, he says if you make them some pies he’ll forget the whole thing!”

“I got you, Trent! Sorry my husband punched you in the face!”

“Don’t mention it, Tasha! Thanks!” Standing from his slouched position, Trent pinched the bridge of his nose before heading toward the front door. “Wait until Julianna hears this. She told me it was a bad idea.”

After a final apology, Chadwick led you and the kids back to the safety of your home. Bedtime routines and a brief candy extravaganza at the kitchen counter put everyone in a good mood before the kids were tucked in for the night.

Chadwick stood on your right in the bathroom, brushing his teeth while you finished applying night cream to the area under your eyes.

“I can’t believe I punched someone in the face tonight.”

“I can’t believe you let a clown scare you like that,” you laughed.

“Co, don’t go there. You were afraid of Harry Potter.”

“Not the same! Them spells and shit were demonic. I don’t wanna hear it.”

“Yeah, whatever.” Chadwick watched you tie your head scarf around your edges before opening his arms to receive the hug you were initiating. “For the first time, it wasn’t so bad, right?”

“This was horrible, baby.”

“Good. We’re on the same page. Let’s never do this shit again.”

“I ain’t say allat, now!” Chadwick dropped his arms along to match his scowl as he followed you into the bedroom to finally get into bed. “I talked to ‘Vonne and she said that Trick or Treating is way better in her neighborhood. You know she lives around black people. We should try over there.”

“I probably don’t have a say in this, do I?”

“Of course you do, baby,” you answered, adding a kiss to his bottom lip. “You can say yes.”

A bitter chuckled left Chadwick’s mouth before he took his spot behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist. “Good night, Michael Jackson.”

“Good night, Ali.”

Peaceful silence enveloped the house, setting the mood for quality slumber after a stressful string of events.

That was into an ear piercing scream from Micah’s room down the hallway, making you and Chadwick’s eyes shoot open. Seconds later, Micah’s fist pounded at the door before she abandoned the rule of waiting until she had permission to enter, and ran into Chadwick’s arms.

“What’s wrong, baby girl?”

“The balloon! It’s outside!”

Chadwick turned to look at you only to find you up and heading out of the door in record time. Sure enough, when both of you entered the room with Micah cowering behind Chadwick’s legs, you found a single red balloon floating past Micah’s window and to an unknown destination. Neither you or Chadwick spoke a word. A non-verbal cue to take Micah back to your bedroom answered all of your husband’s question, and a trip to retrieve Noah was swift.

Crowding into the California king, you made sure to double check the locks and the security system from your bed.

From the corner of your eye, you found Chadwick burning a hole in the side of your head with his intense stare.

“I told you we should’ve stayed home.” 

Rolling your eyes hard enough for them to cause a mild headache, you turned on your side to end the conversation before it could start. There was no way he would know he was right. There was also no way you would ever trick or treat in this neighborhood again. 

                                   _____________

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[fangedlovers]

First Thanksgiving - To Build A Home Series - Imagine

It was Steve’s first Thanksgiving and Becca desperately wanted it to be perfect. They flew into Malibu the day before, Happy picking them up from the airport, more than happy to be in warmer weather. They spent the day exploring where Becca grew up and showed him Stark Industries. The day ended with the Stark Family usual tradition of making apple and pumpkin pies, fruit rolls, and sugar cookies. Steve getting to see the other side of Tony Stark. Not the egotistical millionaire the media set him out to be, but the man who loved his daughter and who held a deep relationship with Pepper.

The morning of the turkey day, was started off by putting the bird in the oven and sitting around the TV, waking up with coffee and watching the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade. Steve commented on how different it had been so many years prior, but was entranced by the new vibrant colors and music.

Not before long, everyone was in the kitchen having their own hand in a dish. Well, really Pepper and Becca taking control while Tony was banished from touching some because he kept trying to think of ways to cook things faster but in the end always burning something and Steve mostly watching in a chaos kitchen. Rhodey had made his appearance in the afternoon with his parents in tow, their usual tradition and a few of Pepper's family stopping by later. It made the Stark mansion filled of talk and warmth.

It was a bit crazy but normal for them. The group playing a few games before dinner, stopping as the competition heightened between Tony and Rhodey. Each threatened to put on a suit to battle each other. Dinner was delicious and the company was better.

“I couldn't eat another bite.”

“She says as she aims her fork at more pie.”

Becca glared at Steve as she stuffed another piece of pumpkin pie in her mouth, gaining a laugh and shake of his head. The two sat outside on the patio on the circle bench, a fire roaring in front of them. Everyone was still inside but the two came out for some peace.

“Sue me, I made it and it's delicious!”

Steve nodded, taking his own bite. “You did do a great job.”

“Damn straight.” She licked off the last of the whipped cream from her fork before setting the plate on the fire edge, exchanging it for her glass of wine. “Thanks for coming by the way.”

“Thanks for inviting me.” He took his eyes off of the view in front of them to see her slouching into the couch.

“I know it was a bit crazy with everyone.”

“Not at all.”

With an eye roll, Becca laughed knowing he was just being nice. “If I'm exhausted as I am I know you have to be, super soldier or not.”

Steve only shrugged. There was no lie he was anxious before the trip, but it was quickly easy to find himself blending in with the unique family affair. No one treating him as a newcomer or as his persona. He had a great day and it was thanks to the girl sitting next to him who had become his best friend.

“Is Christmas the same?” He asked her.

“Christmas?” She chuckled at the Holiday that was a month away still. “Sweetheart, you haven't even made it through your first Black Friday yet.”