#she’s gone and she had to spend her last few days being massively harassed just because she spoke up on antiblackness

[tariah23]

Will never forget her

[chaozsilhouette]

Turbulent Beginnings

This forms the opening act to Macaque’s story, showing just how different his and Wukong’s early lives were and why he took Wukong’s disappearance so hard.

The idea Macaque was born from the wind was inspired by @animemoonprincess. And yes, I am a shameless fan of Macaque originally having white fur. The angst is just too perfect.

Brace yourselves, this isn’t going to be pretty. I am essentially shoving our boy through an emotional meat grinder.

§~~~~§~~~~§~~~~§

On a remote island, a day’s travel from China’s eastern shore, a massive hurricane raged as it had since the beginning of this world. The surrounding storms fed into it as its winds carved stone. No life had dared blossom on its soil out of fear of a painful demise. The merciless storm drank deeply of the waters of the sea, draining all aspects of potential and life before casting it aside. Not even curious spirits were spared.

Various deities had wondered why such a storm existed or why the Jade Emperor allowed such a dangerous presence to continue unchecked. Most believed that since the hurricane was stationary and prove no threat to the established order of the world, it was not important.

One day the hurricane vanished. As though it had never existed. Or rather that it had been transformed into something else.

It was the night of a new moon and with the hurricane gone, the island experienced its first cloudless sky. The only one to witness the momentous occasion was a monkie with pure white fur and six ears. Minding his manners, the nameless monkie bowed to the four winds in greeting.

The newborn proceeded to spend his days searching the island for something. Some clue as to the reason behind his birth. He could hear strange voices and words he didn’t understand yet at the same time could. He knew he wasn’t the only creature alive, so why was he alone?

For food, he walked his way through a cave system towards the sea, where he enjoyed the fish that were drawn in through the whirlpools and the mussels that clung to the sharp rocks. He grew to savor the taste of life, even though there was a part of him that craved something different.

Almost forty years passed before he mustered the courage to leave everything he knew to seek out those voices. He gathered all the driftwood and rope that had drifted onshore over the decades, fashioned it into a makeshift raft, and sailed towards the closest source of voices.

His voyage was actually pretty boring once he cleared the whirlpools.

The only exciting part about it was when that strange fish tried to sink his raft. It was bigger than any fish he’d previously seen with a mouth to match. Didn’t mean it survived past the first blow. Taking a bite Macaque wasn’t sure if he liked this fish. The muscles were tough and the flesh was rough on his tongue. He didn’t particularly like the taste. But there was enough to feed him for a full day.

In the end, he chose to eat a third of the fish’s muscles along with its heart before tossing back into the water.

§~~~~§~~~~§~~~~§

Docking on dry land was an experience that would haunt him for years.

At first, he was filled with wonder at the sight of buildings and new creatures riding rafts far bigger than his.

When he stepped onto shore the whispers began.

The creatures, who he later learned were called humans, were pointing out his ears. They acknowledged his obvious intelligence. He heard them grip wooden instruments tightly. It was as if they expected him to do something.

No one made a move against him. No one approached him, but he could tell he wasn’t wanted. Everywhere he turned he saw eyes that cursed his every existence.

He didn’t stay in that village for long. In his mind, satisfying his curiosity wasn’t worth being stared at as though he was the source of all evil.

Demon.

That is what they called him. Was that what he was?

He didn’t know, but he didn’t like it.

§~~~~§~~~~§~~~~§

He aimlessly wandered the countryside for far too long.

The first act of kindness he received was from a couple who could not have children of their own. He stumbled upon them by accident, but instead of the normal fearful expressions he’d come to expect they greeted him with genuine smiles and an offer to join them for dinner.

They took him in and treated him like family. He became the son they always wanted. They taught him how to properly speak and how to walk comfortably on two limbs. They blessed him with a name.

They were kind and nurturing. In another world, they may have been called bodhisattvas. But sadly, due to them being ordinary mortals, his time with them only lasted four decades.

He buried them with love but grew resentful of his weak emotions.

He learned what it was like to have someone welcome him home after a long day. He learned to savor the taste of a mother’s home-cooked meal. He enjoyed having a father figure who was willing to teach him old military tactics. He experienced friendly competitions to see who could paint the most accurate portrait of a flower they saw earlier that day. It was everything he never knew he craved and then it was gone. Leaving him with an empty home and a broken heart.

§~~~~§~~~~§~~~~§

Nearly fifty years later he joined a band of traveling performers.

Their natural oddities allowed them to see who he really was and welcome him into their party. With their compassion, he was granted the opportunity to heal. He learned that despite the group’s large size, very few of them had any direct blood relations. What made them special was how they created their own family and turned what many called strange into something beautiful. Out of respect, he delved into the world of entertainment, found he had a natural talent for it.

When he took the stage people assumed he was in costume, but that didn’t matter. The applause of the audience was a gift he cherished. The sheer passion this family expressed through every second in life warmed his heart beyond words. They were just what he needed to bring him out of his depression.

Alas, it was not meant to stay.

One night their camp was ambushed by a group of demons. They were nothing special, hardly worth mentioning. But for him, back then, it was a fight he never imagined. He could easily handle human bandits, so could his family, but never had he traded blows with a small army of his fellow demons. With the rising of the sun, Macaque stared at the cruelly bright sky covered in blood. All around him bodies lay scattered, life essence soaking into the ground. Despite being tasked with fighting off nearly five dozen demonic opponents he managed to survive with barely a scratch, but he was alone. Again.

§~~~~§~~~~§~~~~§

He tried to change things by sticking to his fellow demons. At least they lived longer.

Somehow that ended up with him becoming the apprentice to a demon healer for almost a century. She was a cold-hearted bitch with a heart of gold. Meticulous in her work, masterful in deduction, and short-tempered with the foolish. She gave everything to her practice and expected the same from him. It was bitter work, but he found it fulfilling. The knowledge that he now possessed the ability to restore others to peak condition settled some unknown part of his soul.

Of course, they would have visitors who wished to take advantage of her skills or steal the medicine. Between the two of them, they protected their clinic, but they weren’t always together. While she may try to hide it, she wasn’t the strongest demon out there. Apparently, the entire reason she got into medicine was to uncover why she was so weak. Centuries of research turned up nothing, but it did make her incredibly skilled at using poisons with her knives to compensate.

One day after he returned from gathering ingredients, he pulled back the door to find the shop in disarray, five unknown bodies slowly dying of extensive blood poisoning, and his master bleeding out from her severed arms. She always said she had no intention of entering Naraka alone.

Guess she kept her word.

§~~~~§~~~~§~~~~§

The cycle repeated itself over centuries. He would experience a brief window of happiness only for it to be savagely stolen from him, leaving him to mourn and curse his weak heart.

The small glimmers of kindness humanity showed him only made him curse their race even harder when he couldn’t walk into a village without being harassed. The humans who had proven stronger were sadly a rare breed. He was rare to encounter one a century and often they perished at the hands of their kind rather than by demons.

There were times when the ignorance had gotten so bad he’d taken to traveling with a constant glamour, disguising himself as an average human. Whenever he was in the presence of other demons, he allowed his true form to manifest, however, he made it look like he only had a single pair of ears. Standing out was the easiest way to wind up in a complicated situation he had no interest in trying to defuse.

That’s not to say his time was wasted.

Quite the contrary, he had learned much during his travels. He could hardly be compared to the happy young monkie, who was ignorant of the dangers and hardships this world held. In a sad attempt to fill the void, Macaque sought out wisdom and strength. He located masters of both the mystic and martial arts. He may have had to lie about his age, he was becoming quite the accomplished liar, but the results were more than worth it. With every stop, he found himself growing more certain of his strength and his identity.

Eventually, he discovered a strange monastery hidden in a cave in the face of a mountain.

He had never seen anything like it during his travels. But what truly drew his attention was the feeling the temple exuded, every stone exuded a strange aurora. Something powerful dwelled within, powerful yet there was an undeniably human quality to it all.

Hiding beneath his usual glamor, Macaque approached the temple with the desire to discover exactly what was being taught. Before he knew what was happening, he was speaking to the immortal sage who was running the joint. Master Subhuti welcomed him to his home and offered some tea. The disguised monkie was bombarded by dozens of questions, all of which he attempted to answer as though he was a normal human.

The master welcomed him as his newest disciple and showed him his new home. Later he learned the master could see through his disguise and sensed his potential. Apparently, the old immortal believed that the monkie would do well to learn his disciplines and he was fascinated by the monkie’s natural talent.Said something about how with proper guidance only the Buddha would be able to peer past his façade.

The monkie even received a new name to celebrate his rebirth. From that day forward he was Liu’Er Mihou, or the Six-Eared Macaque. He liked it. While he cherished the name his first family gifted him, he felt this was a good sign. A tribute to show that he was a changed monkie.

Regardless, he refused to drop his glamor. He had seen too many demons be cast out and attacked for getting sloppy. The other students were not thrilled about the newcomer showing them up and he wasn’t willing to give them a true reason to despise him. He learned quickly, more so than any other human disciple, but that put him at odds with those who were still struggling after years of training.

Macaque distanced himself from the others. They weren’t that interesting anyway. He didn’t care that they talked about him behind his back or were fully aware he could hear them. He couldn’t risk getting close so soon. He was determined to break the cycle. He didn’t care about immortality. He didn’t care about obtaining power. All he wanted was to end the pain. So far things had been working out in his favor.

Then heshowed up…

§~~~~§~~~~§~~~~§

That trice damned monkie with peach-colored fur and markings like a golden mask. He was so naïve about the world. He treated everything as though it was some exciting game. His upbeat energy made Macaque sick. Some twisted part of him wanted to snap his neck just to end it, but a small part was fascinated by it. The other monkie reminded him of a time he had almost forgotten.

The Monkey King, or Sun Wukong, didn’t bother hiding his true appearance. Truthfully, Macaque wasn’t sure he knew how or that he should. He didn’t seem to notice how other students would keep their distance or how they kept their conversations as brief as possible without crossing the threshold into being considered rude.

He was so earnest and happy, it was painful. The new monkie pestered everyone about everything, it was like dealing with a newborn, but it seemed Macaque was his favorite to bother. The worst part was how he stared at Macaque as though he could peer past his glamour. Although Macaque wasn’t sure if that was truly possible. The Master could, but he dedicated centuries to refine his skills. Wait. How old was this annoyance? Perhaps he could smell he wasn’t like the other disciples.

Either way, he knew it was just a matter of time until the truth got out. He just didn’t expect it to be when he was changing.

Each student was offered a meager room for privacy. They were all the same size and offered little to no space for any customization, but the walls were enchanted to cut out sound whenever the doors were closed.

Behind those flimsy walls was the only time Macaque allowed his glamor to drop. While he valued being cautious, even he couldn’t keep up the glamour indefinitely, much less when he was asleep.

It was in that small space of safety that he discovered he wasn’t alone.

He had just allowed himself to relax when a smiling face covered in peach fuzz was shoved into his own.

“I knew it! You’re like me.” Sun Wukong happily exclaimed, stars practically dancing in his eyes.

“Shut up.” Macaque clamped his hand over the other’s mouth. Checking to ensure no one else was present and the door was shut, he faced the intruder. “Have you told anyone?” He hissed, while berating himself for failing to check the ceiling. You always look up when scanning a room, he knew that.

“Nope. Why are you hiding? You’re beautiful.” The cheerful demon spoke as though they were old friends. His golden eyes took in every hair of his fellow monkie’s true appearance.

“I’m a demon. And there is nothing beautiful about me.” Macaque growled.

“Yes, there is.” Wukong insisted. “You didn’t answer my question. Why are you hiding? The Master let me in, I wager he knows about you, so why?”

Sighing, Macaque massaged the bridge of his nose. “I have been hurt enough times to know keeping a low profile is optimal in survival. It is better to keep one’s head down than risk getting called out.” From observation, he knew the newer student wouldn’t leave until he received answers, so the best option was to just give him what he wanted and pray he knew enough to leave.

“That’s no fun.” Wukong stuck his tongue out in distaste. “You shouldn’t have to hide who you are. We were born this way.” He jumped high into the air only to catch himself on his tail with a cheeky grin. “So, they’ll just have to deal with it.”

“Cute speech. But my answer is no. Now leave.”

“Don’t worry. We’ll fix that attitude right up.” Thankfully Wukong left, but not before sending a smile laced with mischief his way. “See you tomorrow.”

Macaque prayed to every deity that would be the end of it. But even he knew it was a futile attempt.

“Do you have a tribe?” Wukong asked, hanging by his tail from Macaque’s favorite tree.

A startled Macaque blinked at the random question. “A what?”

“A tribe. A family. A place to call home?” Wukong asked smoothly even if he wasn’t familiar with the term family until recently he knew it was important.

“Not anymore.” Glaring Macaque returned his focus to his meal.

“Aw.” Wukong knew that look. He had seen plenty of monkeys wear that arura after watching other tribe members die. “Then you should come with me!”

“What?”

“Yeah. You can join my tribe. There are dozens of us back home. Plenty of food and water, you’ll constantly be surrounded by others like us.”

“Other demons?”

“No.” Wukong smiled as though he told a funny joke. “Other monkeys.”

“There is no reason for me to join you.” Macaque stated, wishing he could finish his lunch in peace.

But Wukong wasn’t letting him go that easily. “And there’s no reason for you to refuse.” He stated, ignoring any and all social cues or common sense for respecting personal space.

It went on like that for years. Every day Macaque would awake to find gold eyes staring at him, waiting for his answer to change. Breaks were spent dodging the hyperactive monkie as he tried to eat alone. Training sessions soon found him sparring with the same partner.

The monkie was stubborn no doubt and Macaque feared his actions were slowly breaking down his walls. The pale furred monkie missed having a connection. He adored being able to talk to others, but whenever he opened up he only got hurt.

But maybe, maybe this time could be different…

Wukong was training to obtain immortality. He had already proven to be stronger and more clever than anyone he’d known. The simian showed that he wanted to know him better. He constantly tried to touch his fur, something he called grooming, which felt pretty nice.

Maybe…maybe this time he could truly have a home.

§~~~~§~~~~§~~~~§

A streak of light accompanied by a sharp whistle pierced the night sky. For a brief moment, it vanished before exploding in a beautiful display of color and light.

On the monastery’s rooftop, Wukong backflipped in joy at the sight, his golden eyes wide. “Happy New Year!” The monkie cried. In the village below, he could make out dozens of voices echoing the greeting.

It didn’t matter how many times he saw them, fireworks were a sight he always adored. “This has got to be mankind’s greatest invention!” The flowers of fire were simply too beautiful. So unique. Nothing on Flower Fruit Mountain compared to such beauty, it made him thankful he decided to leave.

From the corner of his eye, Wukong noticed that his companion was clutched his ears wincing with every detonation. “You okay, bud?”

“I’m fine. Just loud.” Macaque said. He was truly questioning his sanity by joining Wukong on the roof. Normally he barricaded himself in his room, but his friend was so thrilled about sharing their first New Year together he couldn’t say no.

“Oh.” Somehow the new set of fireworks didn’t look that attractive. “We can go inside if you want.” They were beautiful, but nothing was worth feeling helpless as his friend curled up in pain.

“I’ll be fine. I’m adjusting to the volume. No different than punches that break the sound barrier, right?” Macaque tried flashing a confident grin to varying success.

Wukong suspected that Macaque was lying, but learned enough to know further prying would just cause the other monkie to simply shut out the world. “I’m glad you’re coming with me.”

“You made a persuasive argument.” Anyone who could harass him for nearly five years straight proved their determination.

Wukong playfully stuck his tongue out. “Hehe…Seriously though, I’m happy you chose to be part of my tribe. No one should be alone.”

“Then why have I been for so long.”

“I doubt even Master knows. But you won’t be able to say that anymore.” Wukong wrapped his arms around his best friend. Pulling him close, Wukong faced the fireworks, unconsciously grooming Macaque as he savored every pop of color.

Beneath those gentle digits, Macaque steadied himself against the soothing heartbeat of the one he slowly learned to trust. As the display continued, the pale monkie learned to appreciate the human’s creations. Turns out they weren’t so bad so long as you have the right company.

§~~~~§~~~~§~~~~§

“I’m sorry. You’re what?!” Macaque’s response was perfectly justified. There was no way he just heard what he thought he heard.

Wukong flashed a blinding grin. “I’m heading to the Celestial realm. I’ve been given a position in Celestial Bureaucracy.” Not seeing any problems whatsoever.

“Why?” Just why? From everything he heard about those stuck-up deities, they would never hand over a position to anyone without requiring the completion of an impossible task, much less to a demon. Least of all a demon who has done nothing but terrorize others and unleash chaos whenever he went.

“Don’t know. But I got to go right now.” Wukong shrugged as he finished packing. The Gold Star of Venus was waiting just outside the waterfall.

“But what about Flower Fruit Mountain? What about your subjects? What am I supposed to do? How long are you going to be gone?” Macaque fired off a rapid stream of questions. Panic was beginning to take hold.

Wukong, however, was as calm and confident as ever. “Stop worrying so much. Look I’ll be back as soon as I can. Until then you’re in charge.” He finished as though it was obvious.

“Me!” A white tail nearly burst into twice its normal size in shock. “But I have no idea how to run a Court!”

“Neither do I. Not in the traditional sense at least. Look just keep an eye on things. Protect the monkeys from hunters and malicious demons. Sometimes one of the allied demon kings will ask for some help. It’s nothing you haven’t helped me with before. I’ll be back before you know it. I’m sure you’ll be able to handle things until I get back.”

Seeing his companion and good friend growing even more lost, Wukong closed the distance and took his face in both hands. “This is a good thing. If I can make this work, none of us will ever have to worry about being hunted or not having enough food ever again.”

In a snap, Macaque grabbed the king’s arms. “What if I don’t care about any of that? What if I just want you to stay?”

For the first time in their conversation, Wukong’s cocky attitude vanished replaced with a loving smile. Gently prying Macaque’s claws off his shirt, Wukong placed his cheek on a palm as he kissed the knuckles of another. “I can’t. This is too good an opportunity to pass up. This isn’t goodbye. I’ll keep in touch. The time will fly. We’ll make this work. Trust me.”

“Alright, Wukong. I trust you.” Macaque said, ignoring every fiber of his being that screamed this would end poorly.

“If things go wrong, remember I’m just a telepathic call away.” Summoning his cloud, Wukong back flipped onto it with his bag. “Monkey King, out!”

One sonic boom later and he was gone, along with a good chunk of the cave walls.

“Hpmh. That’s my idiot.”

§~~~~§~~~~§~~~~§

How did this happen? How did this happen?!

One moment they were fighting for their lives against the army of the Celestial Realm and the next Macaque bore witness to Wukong being carted away in a diamond snare.

Now as he stared at the charred remains of what once was a growing village of monkeys, Macaque felt something within him change.

For almost two months he had burned in celestial fires. The sounds of the dead and dying rang out, making his namesake almost bleed. He choked on the ashes of the mortal monkeys. The air had a strangely sweet and bitter taste to it.

Macaque lost count of all the times he charged back into the fires to save as many heartbeats as he could. He wasn’t sure but he suspected he blacked out more than once. With every heartbeat that stilled before he could reach them, a part of him followed them into Yama’s realm.

Finally, the fires had died down. They didn’t have anything left to burn.

All around him he saw the pitiful leftovers of what was once a thriving community. He had treated the survivors the best he could, but he lost his medical equipment in the blaze. The only ones he didn’t have to worry about were the monkeys Wukong made immortal, but he did what he could to ease the pain.

But still, he wondered why…why were they staring at him as though they were confused?

Maybe he was overthinking everything. He just worked through 49 days without any sleep. Everything was stable for now. The best course of action was to wash off the ash and get some much-deserved rest.

There was nothing the Celestial Realm could do to Wukong that he couldn’t handle. Besides Macaque didn’t even know how to get there even if he was at full strength. Wukong couldn’t die so it was only a matter of time before someone tripped up allowing him to return home.

He just had to be patient.

Stepping into the clear river, Macaque’s jaw almost dropped as the water around him immediately turned gray. He didn’t realize he was that filthy.

He started scrubbing himself, ducking under the water to ensure he didn’t miss a spot. He had to move a few times due to the sheer amount of shoot and ash that clung to him. The entire cleaning process took a full hour before the water ran clear.

Stepping out, Macaque felt more refreshed than he ever remembered. Shaking to remove as much access water as possible, all the towels were soot so he had to make do, he paused by the waterside to see how much fur he lost. But what he saw met none of his expectations.

Instead of fur that invoked images of the moon, he was cloaked in the color of the darkest ink.

“What happened to me?”

§~~~~§~~~~§~~~~§

Five hundred years.

Five hundred years he searched, for any trace of the legendary Five-Fingered Moutain Buddha used to trap Sun Wukong only to find nothing. Macaque scoured far and wide. Neither the winds nor the shadows could lead him towards his friend.

He picked fights with countless demons who claimed to witness the great Monkey King brought low. It barely took two punches before they broke down crying how it had been nothing but a lie, how they only repeated rumors.

He bargained for any information he could find, but all accounts claimed the mountain didn’t exist. Many refused to answer him on principle of not interfering with the Celestial Realm’s issues. Their last mistake. Others took Wukoong’s punishment as a sign to amass as much power as possible out of fear that they would be targeted next.

Macaque had witnessed the formation of more alliances and territory grabs in the past century than had been recorded in the last thousand years. Demons were becoming more power-hungry and suspicious, which meant even more trouble for the humans. Things were becoming so chaotic, Macaque had to wonder if it was planned.

But he couldn’t dwell on that.

He hadn’t visited Flower Fruit Moutain in years. His clones kept guard, but slowly he was losing the drive to keep replenishing them. The only reason he called that mountain home was because of Wukong. It wasn’t home without him.

But he had to keep looking. Had to keep trying. He would find his friend.

Somehow.

§~~~~§~~~~§~~~~§

He tricked himself into thinking this would be different. That he would no longer be alone. That finally he had found a family he could keep.

He was an idiot!

The truth was he was no different than anyone else. The world was Sun Wukong’s toy chest and Macaque was merely a shiny new trinket to bat around until he grew bored. Seeing him with that group, knowing that he chose them over their past, was too much.

He was sick of being left behind. He had been left alone so many times. What made him think he couldn’t be replaced?

He could have attacked, ripped their precious monk to pieces, he could have...should have...but he was tired.

Returning to Flower Fruit Mountain was a chore, but one he swore he would never complete again. The monkeys questioned his return, asking where their king was and if he’d return soon. Macaque ignored them all. He simply walked to the part of the manor he and Wukong had shared for years, where he had been waiting for his return.

Staring at all the knickknacks and souvenirs they had collected from their adventures, Macaque made up his mind. Grabbing a large sturdy bag, he swiftly packed his essentials. In another, he packed non-perishable goods and water containers.

Stepping out, a flash of something peach-colored caught his eye. Spinning around, hope burning a hole in his chest but his dreams once more were proved false. It was just the special peach tree Wukong had planted from the leftover pit he had saved from his time in the Celestial Realm. Apparently, it had reached maturity and was proudly bearing the first fruit Macaque had seen despite having been planted nearly half a millennia ago.

Macaque wasn’t sure why it was so special, Wukong just winked and said it was a surprise for when they could share a fresh one. Feeling something wet on his arm, Macaque looked down to see his hand stretched towards the tree and the memories he held. Feeling his cheeks, he realized he was crying, which was strange as he didn’t think he had any tears left.

Spurred by longing and spite, Macaque plucked six peaches from the tree and stuffed them into his bag. It wasn’t like Wukong was going to miss them. And he needed the food.

[creek-cryptid-deluxe]

It’s been awhile since I truly ranted about my clueless boomer father. it’s absolutely not because he’s been less awful. in fact he’s been so overly awful that I’ve not had the energy to really type out an entire vent post. 

Let’s rectify that! (Disclaimer: this shit is LONG)

So those of you who aren’t new round these parts are well versed in how clueless and selfish my “I’m not like other boomers” (def is) father. You might also know how introverted I am.

Now that word gets tossed around a lot by people who just enjoy their own company or enjoy socializing but need time to recharge, and that’s all well and good. But my personal introversion is much more... serious. Like, I can socialize but it’s draining pretty quickly, save a few people who don’t suck the life out of me because they arent work to hang out with and dont require me to entertain them. I need more recharge time than socializing time by a significant margin. Last summer my father went on vacation for a week (Bailey stayed with grandma) and during that week I didn’t verbally speak to a single fucking soul except when The Spawn (who didn’t live here at the time) came by for something. Best week of my fucking life. 

The less I’m able to recharge, the more unpleasant I become. This is important. 

So we all know that my father likes to claim a lot of things are that clearly bullshit. Among those things is the claim that he doesn’t need friends or socialization because he’s “like me” and the claim that he respects my space and need for down time. these things aren’t true. at all. Let’s look at why I saw that...

This man insists on telling me every small annoyance that happens through his day. Every single fucking day I have to hear (and read texts) repeatedly about how ignorant his coworkers are, the amount of unmasked people at stores/gas stations, & just generally self absorbed people he encounters. EVERY DAY. He clearly needs someone to socialize with. 

He will also just walk into my living room and plop down. Then he starts fucking talking or bitching at the dogs for jumping around on him. If I am watching something, he starts asking questions/commenting on whatever I’m watching. If I’m wearing headphones (which are massive and cover my ENTIRE EAR very obviously) he will stare at me and start talking until I pull my headphones off and say “What?! What is so fucking urgent?!” 

I’ve been getting progressively more short with him. I don’t answer texts that aren’t actually about something. When he interrupts me for something I KNOW will be frivolous bullshit, I exaggeratedly huff, then either rip off my headphones or pointedly pause what I’m watching and say “WHAT?! What do you need?!” If he’s bitching about the dogs playing on the couch while he tries to sit on it (which they do to me CONSTANTLY btw and I just make it work) I snap at him to just move to the fucking chair or shut up. If he goes to bitch about a coworker or people he encounters while out, I just say, “You already told me about this.” in and incredibly short tone, to which he responds “Well I wanted to make sure.” in a huffy tone. 

His most recent two days have really taken the fucking cake. 

So The Spawn frequently goes up to see her godfather, D, in Colorado over school breaks. He usually puts her on a plane or comes to get her, but with her having a car, she’s decided to take a friend with her and have her first Big Girl road Trip. She will be gone a little overr a week and she, the friend, D, and I all meticulously planned it out. My father comes in day before yesterday and says, “Hey do you want me to take vacation time while The Spawn is gone so I can be here?” I look deeply confused, “Why the fuck would you do that?” his response: “Well, I didn’t know if you’d need someone here to help with the dogs during the day while she’s gone.” 

Y’all I nearly died laughing. “Her not being here changes literally NOTHING about how the dogs are handled during the day. When she is here, she is in her room. It’s really funny that you think I have help during the day considering how often I’ve bitched about the fact that I take care of the dogs that aren’t mine far too much.” 

Then yesterday, I had spent the day employing my general tactics to discourage him from harassing me with useless bullshit. At some point, I cut him off from talking AGAIN about “ignorant, maskless, redneck gatherings at the gas station” by saying, “YES YOU TOLD ME AT LEAST 3 FUCKING TIMES. I GET IT. PEOPLE DON’T WEAR MASKS AND IT PISSES YOU OFF. IT’S BEEN A FUCKING YEAR. DEAL WITH IT. Why in the fuck do you insist on telling me this crap?” This fucking idiot laughed and said “I need to vent to someone.” I then told him to get a fucking friend or get a fucking therapist but I am not here for him to fucking vent to. 

At the end of last night I finally lost it. I blew up on him about how I have zero privacy, nobody fucking respects my space or my need to recharge my social batteries, so I’m just constantly running on empty which means I’m getting progressively more unpleasant and frankly downright mean. Near the end I said “I’m sorry but...” and intended to tell him EXACTLY what he is doing that is causing this shit but true to fucking form, this motherfucker INTERRUPTS ME and says  “Oh I never take any of this personally. no apology needed. goodnight.” and goes up to bed. 

YOU SHOULD TAKE IT PERSONALLY YOU STUPID PIECE OF SELF ABSORBED SHIT!!!! YOU ARE THE FUCKING PROBLEM!!! MY NEARLY 17 YEAR OLD CHILD HAS MORE AWARENESS OF MY NEED TO RECHARGE AND NOT BE AROUND PEOPLE CONSTANTLY THAN YOU DO DESPITE ME TELLING YOU ABOUT MY NEEDS IN VERY PLAIN LANGUAGE THAT A FUCKING 5 YEAR OLD COULD UNDERSTAND!!! 

LEAVE.   ME.   THE.   FUCK.   ALONE.  unless the subject of what you want to talk about impacts me directly in some way or i INVITE YOU into a conversation. I don’t vent to him unless it impacts him or the household... so why the fuck can’t he show the same courtesy? Also that whole “respect your space and not invade it” thing... on the rare occasion that he doesn’t just invite himself in and plop down in my space expecting my fucking attention, he will HOVER in the ‘doorway’ to my rooms until I acknowledge his presence, at which point he takes as an invitation. I’ve done an experiment. If I ignore the hovering, he will stand there up to 30 mins, at which point he will ask me a question and when I answer he takes it as an invitation. Like, I know my living room and BEDROOM don’t have doors but that doesn’t mean you have an open invite to just come into them whenever. You want to pet your dog but she’s on my bed? Call her. She’ll come over to you. Want to watch something with me? ASK and then, if I say yes, don’t fucking talk to me. I agreed to watch something, not have a fucking conversation. 

oh but directly telling him any of this doesn’t work because he “doesn’t take any of this personally.” Ok, it’s one thing to not take it personally when I snap at you because I’m in an astronomical amount of pain that day and accidentally snapped. When that happens, I apologize and explain. but if I don’t mention my pain, apologize, or explain then YOU ARE THE REASON IM SNAPPING YOU STUPID FUCK. 

end rant. if you read this whole thing, my condolences on the wasted time. I don’t want/need advice. I’m handling the situation the best I can in my current position. Part of that handling is that while The Spawn is gone, I’m going to do a few days where I’m here for the dogs, then when dad gets off work, J scoops me for the night, then drops me back off in the morning on his way in. He is one of those lovely people that isn’t a drain and if we are sitting in the same room, considers it spending time together. Most times, I lay on his furniture at an awkward looking but comfy angle reading a book while he games. We chat a bit during breaks or when I see him ready to throw the controller at the TV (looking at you Witcher 3...) so that will be lovely. 

as always, don’t steal my shit for your blog, article, youtube, just because you’re boring and fucking lazy. Shoo! Scat! 

[kessielrg]

Comeback Kid: Part 2

Summary: More third person additions to the chaos rp that @chibi-mushroom​ and @animacreates​  are doing.This time, Sabrina has spontaneously decided to break up with Ventus after what could amount to a nervous breakdown. In the aftermath, she is forced to take all her vacation time and become reacquainted with one of her favorite hobbies. But is it enough to get over Ven, or will the memory of him be too much to ignore? 

Rating: K+

Word Count: 2,398

Part: 1 | 2 | 3

If you liked this story, please reblog!

---

One of these days, Sabrina was going to have to ask Brain what the name of his cologne was. In the same breath, she needed to harass him on how much he used on a normal day. The cinnamon scent lingered on the still dryer warm t-shirt she had stolen. It was comforting. For once in her life, she was glad not to be surround by her purple obsession. The scent of lavender may be calming, but at the moment all it was going to do was remind her of the apartment.

And of Ventus.

Good thing Brain wasn't as vain as she was- the only mirror he really had was in the bathroom, attached to the medicine cabinet. If Sabrina had a full body mirror right now, she would have admired just all the ways she could have made Ven jealous. Brain's shirt didn't fall very low on her, but the old leggings she found were enough to cause a direct gaze to her butt. She was almost confident with herself again. Almost. Purposely being alluring to someone didn't mean the same if you didn't actually have someone to allure.

Sabrina grimaced to herself in the mirror, fluffing her hair a bit for something to do. She couldn't look herself in the eye. The last time she looked at herself in a mirror was when she skipped out on Ven. It's only been a day, and it still made her flinch. She had to leave the bathroom before she started to panic again. She went to the living room to find Brain sitting on his couch. The TV showing off some livestream on how to jailbreak a certain console. Sabrina walked up and placed her arms on the back of the couch.

“Could you hold off on being a blatant nerd? You're not even paying attention to it.”

Brain laughing, craning his neck to look up at her. “My house, my rules.” he told her. Then he got a good look at what she was wearing, and laughed. “And here I thought I was done with girls stealing my shirts.”

Sabrina let out a loud, incredibly fake gasp. “You had a sex life? Wow!”

“I could have told you about her if you had just asked. We dated for about a year. Not that I think I would have let you two share a room- you'd scare her.”

“I scare a lot of people. It's not even a challenge anymore.” Sabrina smirked. She moved around to sit next to him. Once she was comfortably sitting, she then asked, “So she was a good one?”

“Very good.” Brain agreed with a wide, incredibly fond, grin. Sabrina immediately recognized it as a grin of true love and scoffed.

“Oh shush, you.” her brother teased, forcing her to lay her head on his chest. She struggled for a moment out of annoyance. When she finally gave up, that was when Brain removed his hand from her head. Instead of sitting back up, though, she remained leaning on him. Brain did pick up the remote to change the TV setting so they could watch something on live broadcast. From there, the duo sat in a peaceful silence.

During the change between shows, Brain laid his head against Sabrin'as in thought.

“Hey Wabi-Sabi.” he mused. His voice was rather soft.

“Yeah?” she replied, her attention not leaving what was on the television.

“Do you remember, back before old Oz took us in, and we tried to spend a night out on the playground at Walt Memorial Park?”

Sabrina shifted a bit in her spot. Her face slightly darker than before as she asked, “Was that before or after the time we almost got caught by some officer around 2 AM?”

“You know what? I think it was that day.” Brain snorted. “But way before that, before the sun went down. Do you remember what we talked about?”

Admittedly, she had to close her eyes to try to remember. They nearly snapped open again as she realized, “It was about Mom, wasn't it? Why she left us.”

Brain gave her a solemn nod. “Not going to lie Sabi, I bluffed about a lot of that stuff. I wasn't there when Mom made the choice. I barely understood that she was the one who even made the choice to keep us together. Back then, I just assumed that they kept siblings together because who wouldn't? But I had to tell you something that night. You had just run away from another family. You were dead convinced that you couldn't be loved.''

“Why are you telling me this?”

“No reason,” he informed her with a grin. “Just thinkin' out loud, I guess.”

“Liar.” she spat, purposely using her elbow to poke at his side. Brain didn't refute the notion. If anything, he just laughed.

“So,” Brain then said, “What's your game plan for the next month? Oswald cashed in all that overtime and vacation pay you had. I can't see you just jogging between here and the old man's house everyday.”

“Shows what you know.” his sis huffed. “Just for that, I think I'm going to have you personally move all my stuff here.”

“What are you doing with the apartment, speaking of?” Brain asked.

“I don't know.” she admitted in a half grumble. “I'd let the lease run out, but that's still for another four months.”

“You really think you two will apologize between that time?”

Sabrina didn't answer. Instead, her face twisted into one of absolute disgust.

“Never said that.” she hissed.

“Sure, sure.” Brain laughed. “Just don't want you sitting at home with old Hollywood movies and ice cream, that's all.”

“Do you not know me at all?” Sabrina demanded, shoving him with enough force to make him move like a bobblehead for a moment. Brain's mirth did not let up. Sabrina gave her brother another disgusted grimace, but his words stuck with her.

Later on, while debating if she should clear her phone of certain numbers, Sabrina stopped scrolling through to see the name of her ex-boyfriend, Max. Max had been her first serious boyfriend, and they had managed to stay on good terms after the breakup. Sabrina made a single second choice, leading to her listening to the phone ring over as she waited for him to answer. She felt kinda dumb while waiting- was she really that self centered to think tha Max would have the time to even...

“Hey Max.” Sabrina greeted, almost in surprise, when he picked up the phone. “Yeah, I know it's been awhile. That's actually why I'm calling. You want to go to that little tea shop on Main Street tomorrow? I get it if you have other places to be since it's last minute...”

There was just one thing she could always count on in Max; he was patient when the situation called for it. Hearing him on the other end brought up a sense of relief she got from only a select few individuals.

“Thanks Max.” she sighed. “I just… need someone to talk to someone that isn't family. Yeah, I'm fine. Really. I'll tell you more later. Bye.”

Sabrina let out a long sigh. Well, that was one bandaid ripped off. Now to deal with the other; getting new clothes.

. . .

This island really was kinda small when you thought about it. She just hoped that no one Ventus knew would recognize her. Then again, the clothes she bought yesterday were darker colors meant to blend in with the crowd. If they managed to recognize her, hopefully she'd be long gone before they could flag her down. Seeing Max casually checking his phone outside the tea shop brought Sabrina a massive sigh of relief.

“Hey Max!” she shouted at him. He looked up and grinned at seeing her.

“Hey stranger.” he greeted with a grin. Once they were close enough they shared a rather heartfelt hug. “You wearing heels today? I knew you had legs for days, but I could've sworn you were shorter than this.”

“Nice try.” Sabrina smirked. She stood a bit taller over the fact that Max was several inches shorter than her. His height was perfect when they were dating- considering what he was nearly in direct eye line of. “You know I've never worn heels around you.”

“I used to be taller than you.” he jokingly pouted.

“Yeah,” she snorted. “For a whole summer.”

Max went into a laugh that was so light and joyful that Sabrina gave a small half smile. Bouncing more banter off each other, the duo headed on into the tea shop. Max found them a corner table near a back window.

“Anything look good?” Sabrina asked as they looked over the menu.

“Haven't had a tea party since I was swindled into one as a kid.” Max mused. “So I guess whatever you want to eat, and I'll take a cup of coffee.”

“How come you're only really adventurous when it comes to extreme sports?” Sabrina teased as she flagged down a waiter.

“Hey, if it's not broke, don't fix it.”

Sabrina just shook her head with a roll of her eyes.

“Welcome to Hightopp & Kingsleigh!” the server girl greeted. “May I recommend the earl grey this afternoon? Fresh from the pot!”

“No thanks.” Sabrina callously told her with a flick of her wrist. “We'll take a pot of peppermint rooibos, a baker's dozen of ladyfingers, and a single black coffee.”

“Sure thing!” the server girl agreed, writing it down on the notepad before heading to the back kitchen.

Sabrina and Max continued to have idle talks with themselves while they waited. There was no one else in this world that Sabrina could tolerate meaningless talks than with Max. They both said whatever was on their mind as it came. Thankfully, time away meant that they had plenty to reflect on. Unfortunately, it meant that at some point, current matters were going to be brought up as well.

She should have really asked to have a refill of hot water for the tea pot before even breathing Ventus's name.

“You just left him?!”

Sabrina groaned as she rubbed her temples. “Yeah...” she groaned. “His dad… I just hate his dad so much, Max. Then he started talking about marriage, and trying to convince Ven into whatever shady deal he's got going next, and it was just… Just…!” She looked up at Max to give a gesture of strangling an invisible neck, and it was enough to convey the message.

“All because your least favorite coworker was getting married as well?”

“And, like, everyone else around us! Ven's brother, two other guys from the station. How about we just chill for a hot second and realize that a ring isn't the only indicator of a good relationship?”

“You really should have gotten chamomile.” Max noted as he watched Sabrina take a rather long slip of her tea.

“Peppermint's better for stress.” she shot at him.

“If you say so,” Max replied, throwing his hands in the air to show innocence. Sabrina glared at him, but relented with a heavy sigh. Max looked her over. She had gone back to rubbing her temples and muttering rather unkind things under her breath. He had never really seen her in conflict before- or at least, this much conflict. Which meant he had to ask. Someone had to.

“Would things really change that much if you did marry him?”

Sabrina clung to the side of her head, her fingers clenching in her hair.

“No.” she finally admitted in a small grumble. “Just a different check box to fill when tax season comes around. It's the only excuse I can really think of. We're already living together, have at least one joint bank account because of it, and all that domestic bliss. We even have a chore chart, like a bunch of kids.”

“So what's holding you back?”

Sabrina grimaced -her teeth grinding- as her whole body tensed. Carefully, Max placed a hand on her arm. She looked up at him with the sole intention of smacking him away. But in seeing his sincere expression, she nearly started crying.

“Maxie,” she quietly told him “Is it bad I'd rather give him a kid than tie the knot?”

“Definitely unorthodox.” he mused with a solemn nod. “Maybe they feel like less of an obligation? You know the deal; some parents just drop their kids off to whoever, or just don't pay attention to them. Then they turn around and brag they're the best parents ever.”

“I can't do that to him.” she heavily sighed. “I just can't. And even then, I don't think I'm ready for a kid. Or any drama that happens during or after the pregnancy. Maybe when I'm 30? But doing so now just makes me sick.”

“Ah,” was all Max could say. He went into thought over this development. When a new idea came to him, he snapped his fingers as if he had solved a major mystery. “You said Oswald's making you take the next month off from work, right? Maybe it's time for a change.”

“Max,” Sabrina told him, even rather condescendingly placing a hand on top of his. “I am not going full Britney Spears and shaving my hair off. The mental breakdown was enough.”

“No,” he laughed, “Nothing like that. Look, you used to love dancing. Right? Roxanne is a teacher at the local dance studio. She mostly teaches the younger kids, but she's been itching for private lessons in her off time. Go take the edge off a bit. Do some pivots off the mirror, or spin around a lamppost for a hot second. Be that dramatic princess I know you are. Be yourself. I mean, it's not like Oswald's gonna let you head back into work right away anyway. Might as well make the most of it.”

“Next you'll be telling me that I should start writing a novel.”

“Well, I mean, if that's what you need...”

It hurt, but Sabrina forced herself to laugh. She looked up at Max and just smiled.

“I can't believe I know a lot of good guys.” she laughed, leaning over a bit to give him a gentle kiss on the cheek. “Thanks Maxie.”

Max let out a shy little laugh as his face lit up a scarlet red.

[toothpastecanyon]

Noie’s Brother, Chapter 21: Rewrite

FINISHED!! Thank you @feferipeixes for betaing this story!

Fate sometimes rhymed, but Alcor felt like this one was a little on the  nose. A newborn Mizar fading away in the hospital and a loving father  pleading to him from behind a circle of candles.

Fate sometimes  rhymed, but Naomi Argenta just wants this stupid vampire to stop  harassing her brother. It’s making him go… weird.

See most updated version on Archive of Our Own.

______________________________________________________________

 Noie had to run. She dashed down the halls, clutching a textbook to her chest and forcing air in and out of her mouth. The door was just to the right - she was nearly there, nearly there, there!

                 She crashed into the door and staggered into a lecture hall full of people. A few turned to look at her - she reddened at that - but most of them paid no attention.

                 The professor continued talking, and she slipped past him to take her seat.

                 “-in microeconomics, it is often observed that the opportunity cost - which is the cost incurred by not choosing the next best option, for those of us who need a reminder - the opportunity cost is often evaluated in terms of…”

                 Noie reached the back of the class, and slid into place beside an elven woman in fuzzy pyjamas. The woman cracked a smile at Noie as she hurriedly unzipped her backpack.

                 “Someone likes to be fashionably late.”

                 “I know, I know.” She took out her magi-orb. “It wasn’t my fault this time, the library printer jammed while I was trying to print out- Oh, what did I miss?”

                 “Uh, econ stuff?”

                 “Bea…” Noie stared down at her empty desk. “Why don’t you take notes?”

 (And stars, she thought, she sounded just like Dipper there)

                 “Don’t need ‘em. I know this shit already.”

                 “Really?”

                 “Yeah.” Bea winked at her. “I know lots of things, Silver. You coming to debate club tonight?”

                 Noie made a face as she opened her textbook. “I don’t know. I don’t think I did very well.”

                 “I would argue that’s inaccurate.”

                 “I got yelled at for speaking out of turn.”

                 “Yeah, and the look on your face was fucking hilarious.” Bea chuckled and nudged her. “Hey, you forgot the rules for a second. Big whoop. You’re new. Come back, alright? I liked your section.”

                 “Really?”

                 “Yeah, you made good points and all that. And you didn’t talk like a mile a minute, so I could actually hear ‘em, too.”

                 “Oh.” Noie flashed a smile at her. “Thanks. Uh, I guess I could go back, then?”

                 “You’re guessing correctly, Silver.” Bea looked at her for a moment. “So… you gonna boot up that magi-orb of yours anytime soon?”

                 “Huh? Oh, right!”

                 Noie fiddled around with the base of the orb until she found the button. It was a strange thing, like a crystal ball mounted on top of some hardware. It booted up and instantly went to her notes, which was convenient but… weird, that it knew exactly what she wanted.

                 Magitech was weird, Noie thought. She didn’t really like it.

______________________________________________________________

                 Noie lay on her bunk bed, absentmindedly scrolling through her phone as her magi-orb sat open on her lap. The dorm around her was small, but cozy. It was a little messy, with some clothes on the floor and a couple papers strewn around her desk, but clean enough for a college student.

                 Besides, the clothes weren’t hers. There was laughter and the jangle of keys; Noie cut her eyes towards the door as it opened.

                 “-did not do that!” A woman burst into the room with raucous laughter. “Hahaha, J, you’re such an asshole! Get outta here! Go! I’ll see you later!”

                 She then slammed the door, loud. Noie raised her eyebrows.

                 “Hi, Val.”

                 “Huh?” Val looked over at her. “Oh, yo, Noie! How’s it going!”

                 “Uh, pretty good.” She switched off her phone. “Just doing my homework.”

                 At that, Val chuckled. “You’re always doing your homework, aren’t you?” She took off her jacket and dropped it on the floor. “When do you even have fun, dude?”

                 “I have fun!”

                 “Oh, yeah?”

                 “I do!” Noie curled up a bit. “I’ll have you know, I’m the fun twin.”

                 “Hah! So where’d you go last night, again?”

                 “...Debate club, but-”

                 Val cut her off there with a cackling laugh, and Noie scowled. She turned back to her phone.

                 “No, no, dude,” Val tapped the side of bed, still chuckling. “We’re cool, dude, we’re cool. You do whatever nerdy shit you like, okay? I don’t care. I love it.”

                 Noie shot her a tight smile, and she snorted.

                 “Aw, come on, dude, take a joke.” She looked around the room. “Yo, did you clean up in here again? It looks great!”

                 “Yeah. I did the bathroom, too.”

                 “Man, that is awesome! You’re awesome! See,” Val reached over and nudged her shoulder. “this is why I like you! I don’t have to worry about anything when I’m here!”

                 “That’s-”

                 “Oh, was gonna tell ya! I’m not gonna be here over the weekend - I’m going over to Joss’s.” She grinned at Noie. “He’s gonna throw, like, the best halloween party - dude, I can’t wait. It’s gonna be lit.”

                 “That sounds cool. What costume are you wearing?”

                 Val only sniggered in response. Noie looked over at her.

                 “What?”

                 “Nothing, dude, nothing. Oh my stars, you’re      precious,     did you know that? I love you.”

                 “What?” She raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

                 “Oh, you’ll understand when you’re older.”

                 “We’re… the same age? What do you mean?”

                 Val just shook her head and took her phone out. She disappeared under the bottom bunk, and Noie rolled her eyes.

                 “Oh-kay. Good chat. Whatever.” She stared at her phone for a few seconds, then kicked off her covers. “I’m going outside.”

                 “Mhm… What did you say?”

                 Noie stalked across the room and out into the hall, fist balled around her phone as she brought up Dipper’s number.

                 Outside, she called him up. Her phone rang once, twice, and then put his face on screen.

                 Dipper’s face. She just got a look at his fuzzy beard before he adjusted the camera. He was lying on the floor, surrounded by papers, and he shot her a crooked smile.

                 “Hey, Noie! Just doing homework, what’s up?”

                     “Oh my stars I am turning into you.”  

                 “What?”

                 “No, no, it’s fine. It’s fine.” Noie laughed it off nervously. “Heyyy, Dipper! Dipperino. How you doing, bro?”

                 “Pretty good!” He looked down at his papers, and shrugged. “Just, uh… just doing homework. What’s up with you?”

                 “You know what people do at a Halloween party?”

                 “A Halloween party? Uh… dress up, I g-”

                 “Yeah! So I’m not crazy!” Noie paced underneath a tree. “That’s what I told my roommate, but she seemed to think I was being stupid about it or something!”

                 “Oh, that-”

                 “And she still acts like I’m her maid or something! What’s up with that? I got 24 hours in my day just like her; why do I have to spend my time cleaning up our room while she goes partying!”

                 Dipper made a face. “Yeah, I’m sorry, Noie. That really sucks.”

                 “Ugh.      Ugh.”     She rolled her eyes. “Roommates.”

                 “Heh, yeah.”

                 “What, you got roommate troubles like me?”

                 “Oh, no, I just - I was just sympathising. Roy’s cool!” Dipper gave a thumbs up to someone offscreen, then smiled back at her. “We made a chore wheel.”

                 Noie slumped against the tree. “Oh, I      wish    Val would agree to a chore wheel. I even made one up for her and hung it on the wall, but she didn’t even notice it!”

                 “Did you… tell her it was there?”

                 “No, but she’s gone all the time, I never remember to talk to her when she’s there.” Noie’s frown deepened. “Besides, why’s that even my responsibility? She’s an adult, just like me! She should know how to do her stupid chores by now; I shouldn’t have to tell her to do it!”

                 “Yeah…” Dipper made a face. “Yeah. What are you gonna do now?”

                 “What do you mean?”

                 “I mean, maybe you could talk to an RA, or-”

                 “Ugh, I don’t want to do that. I don’t want to blow it into a massive thing - I mean, it’s fine! I’ll survive.” She shrugged at him. “I dunno. Am I being a downer? I’ll stop being a downer now.”

                 “No, no, you don’t have to-”

                 “So, how’s the week been treating you, bro?” Noie crossed her legs and leaned forwards. “Is it just more of the homeworks for you, or…?”

                 “No, no, actually, I went to, uh, spellcasting club, actually!” Before she could open her mouth, he added: “Online. They stream it, and you can join the stream. And I-I wasn’t participating - obviously - but it was cool.” He grinned, and his eyes twinkled with excitement. “Really cool. And the teacher stayed later, and we had this whole conversation about enchantments… you’re probably not interested in the details, but it was really fascinating!”

                 Noie beamed at him “Aww, yeah! That sounds so cool, bro! I’m so glad you got to do that.”

                 “Yeah!” He rubbed the back of his neck. “And, uh, I don’t have class Wednesday, so I went back and visited Grandpa.”

                 “How’s he!”

                 “Doing okay! Doing okay… He says he misses you.”

                 “Hah! Good one.”

                 She laughed at that, but Dipper didn’t join in. “No, seriously,” he said. “He was talking about how he can’t wait to see us all back together on Christmas.”

                 “Oh yeah?”

                 “Yeah.” Dipper’s voice lowered. “I… I think he’s kinda lonely in the house, Noie. You know… ever since Grandma…”

                 He trailed off there, and she looked away. She stared at a little patch of grass off to the right, and it was quiet for a moment. The only sound was the rustle of the wind.

                 “Yeah…” Noie felt herself say. She cleared her throat. “Yeah, I bet he… is.”

                 There was a noise on Dipper’s end as a door opened and closed. He sighed. “Yeah.”

                 There was a pause, as he seemed to think over his next words. Then:

                 “Have you thought about… giving him a call this week?”

                 Noie made a face. “Yeah, I should… I should do that.”

                 “You don’t have to, but he’d like that, I think.”

                 “No, no, I should. You’re right, I should.” She shrugged. “I just, I dunno… I don’t know what to say, I guess?”

                 “That’s understandable. Maybe just something like hi, how are you doing? Then go from there. It doesn’t have to be long.”

                 “Yeah… you’re right. You’re right, I’ll do that.” She looked back at him, and managed a smile. “Thanks, Dipper. I love you.”

                 “I love you too, Noie.”

                 She beamed at that. “Man, I just wanna hug you right now! Why aren’t there video hugs? Someone needs to get on that!”

                 “Heh, that would be cool.”

                 “And I just wanna poke your cute little beard, too. I love it.”

                 Dipper’s hand went to his chin. “Cute? I mean, thanks, but I don’t think cute is the right-”

                 “It’s soooo cuuute and soooo little-”

                 “Okay, ha ha. You’re very funny.”

                 “And you’re a big dork.” She snickered at him. “It looks great, bro. I’m just teasing.”

                 “Really?”

                 “Yeah!”

                 “It doesn’t look too thin, or-”

                 “Nope! It looks great on you, seriously.”

                 “Oh… thanks!” He stroked it, and grinned. “Thanks, Noie!”

                 “Anytime.” She watched as he shuffled through some papers. “Welp, I won’t keep you. Have a good day, Dipper!”

                 “Thanks, you too! See you on Friday!”

                 “See you on Friday,” Noie said, and the video feed shut off with a beep. She stared down at her phone, and found herself still smiling.

                 It was good to talk to Dipper, she thought. Things never felt as bad after one of their chats.

                 She didn’t go back to her dorm right away. She turned her phone off, and just sat on the grass for a little while.

                 It was peaceful. It was nice.

______________________________________________________________

     >im at the parking lot. wheres this place again?  

     >Down the main street where all the shops are on the right, you’ve probs passed it before. It’s got a black sign that says ‘Tree’s Teas’  

     >If we see you pass by we’ll all scream for you. You won’t miss us ;)  

                 Noie made a face at that last text from Bea as she walked down the street. Hopefully she wouldn’t miss this place.

                 “Alright,” she said, and looked up at the signs. “Tree’s Teas, Tree’s Teas. Where are you?”

                 She passed by sign after sign, glanced in window after window. It was a hot day; there weren’t very many people out on the streets, and she could feel the sun beating down on her hair.

                 Why they were going for tea on a day like this, Noie had no idea, but she still felt her heart skip a beat as she caught sight of the sign.

                 They were going to tea. They.  

                 Noie took a deep breath, and opened the door.

                 “Is that who I think it is?” Bea’s voice came with a rush of cool air. She was sitting by a group of other students, waving her over. “Ey, Silver! You found us!”

                 She laughed nervously. “I, uh, found you! Hi Bea, hi…”

                 She recognised a few faces from debate club, but not their names. The others were even more of a mystery - thank the stars Bea immediately launched into an introduction.

                 “You know Gus and Meena from Tuesday. And, ah-” She pointed a finger at the other three. “That’s Sara, Mako, and, uh - what’s your name? Heh, just kidding, dude - he’s Jess.”

                 Noie tried for a wave. “Hi. I’m… Noie. Nice to meet you?”

                 “Yo, Noie.”

                 “Nice to meet you too!”

                 “Hi!”

                 Smiles and greetings filtered in, and she allowed herself a smile. Maybe this would be fun.

                 “Cool! Nice to, uh… So, I just get a drink, and we study together?” Noie looked over at the menu; there were a staggering number of options there. “Jeez, these guys are serious about their tea, huh? Think they’ll kick me out if I order a soda?”

                 Bea snorted. “Blasphemy, Silver. No, you gotta order a tea! They’re really good here!”

                 “Alright… which one should I do?”

                 “Dude, you should get the macha!” One guy - was he Gus? - held up his drink. “It’s my favourite!”

                 “Or you should try the chai!”

                 “Or apple cinnamon!”

                 Noie made a face. “Thanks? I guess I’ll, uh, pick one of those.”

                 “Or I could go up there with you?” One of them, a woman with bright purple hair, looked up. She spoke quietly. “I, um, I work here, actually, so I could walk you through it…”

                 “Oh, that sounds great.” Noie smiled at her. “Sara, right?”

                 “Yeah.” She got up from her magi-orb. “Alright. And I can give you my, my employee discount, too.”

                 “Oh, sweet! Thanks!”

                 Bea waved at them as they went over to wait in line. There was an awkward silence as they stood there, just a little too far away from the group and not entirely sure what to say to one another.

                 Noie cleared her throat. “So,” she started. “You like… tea?”

                 “Yeah…” Sara nodded. “I get a free cup every shift.”

                 “Oh. Sweet. That’s… fan-tea-ast… uh…”

                 “What?”

                 “Bad pun, sorry. Butchered that.”

                 “Oh…”

                 They moved forward in line. Noie glanced her way, and then scuffed her foot on the tile. Oh, stars, she shouldn’t have tried a pun. Now this lady probably thought she was a weirdo.

                 “Hey,” Sara looked over at her. “Were you from Diamondback High?”

                 At that, Noie frowned. “Yeah? Why?”

                 “I went there too!”

                 “What?”

                 “Yeah, I remember you from my history class senior year.” She smiled at Noie. “You have a brother, right?”

                “Yeah, Dipper! He’s going to SASU, he’s my twin.”

                 “Ohmystarsyouretwins.”  

                 “What, you didn’t know?”

                 “No! I- well, duh, you guys were in the same year, I should’ve figured it out.” She smacked her head, and Noie chuckled. “I’m dumb, ignore me.”

                 “No, no, it’s cool.” She picked at her shirt. “Seriously, we were in the same history class?”

                 “Yeah! You don’t recognise me?”

                 “I… uh-”

                 “I get it, don’t worry about it.” She ran a hand through her purple hair. “I didn’t have this until I went to college. Trust me, I look pretty generic without it.”

                 “No, your face looks really nice!” Noie blinked. “I mean - sorry, I didn’t mean to be weird-”

                 “You’re fine. You’re fine. Thank you, Noie.” Sara grinned at her. “You know, I, uh, always wanted to talk to you. Back in highschool.”

                 “Really? Why?”

                 “I dunno, you guys - you and Dipper - you seemed like really cool people. To me.” A little red was sneaking into her face. “I dunno, you guys just seemed like you were always having fun with each other, and… I dunno. I dunno, it seemed cool.”

                 Noie stared at her for a moment before cracking a smile. “Aw. You should’ve.”

                 “Yeah, I should’ve! I, uh… I dunno. I’m kind of… bad with people. Sorry.”

                 “No, don’t apologise!” She hesitated, and then bumped Sara’s shoulder. “No time like the present, huh?”

                 “Yeah. Yeah! Nice to meet you, Noie.”

                 “Nice to meet you too…”

                 “Sara.”

                 “Sara, sorry. Bad with names.”

                 “No, it’s totally okay-”

                 “Hi! Are you ready to order?”

                 Noie and Sara stared at the cashier waving them forwards, and then blinked at each other.

                 “Oh… oh!” Noie turned to the person standing behind them. “Why don’t you go ahead of us? I still need to decide.”

                 After a moment, Noie ordered her tea, and sat back down among the group. It was a little new, a little awkward to sit with so many people… but the longer she sat there, the more she was aware of a great big beaming grin on her face. It was nice to be here - really nice.

                 She sat back, and sipped her tea, and let the hours slip by.

______________________________________________________________

                 11:47. Dammit, she should be at class by now.

                 “Come on, submit!” Noie stabbed a finger at her magi-orb. “Submit! Submit, you stupid thing!”

                 It kept loading. She huffed and stomped her feet into her shoes.

                 “Come on, come on… wait, no internet? Seriously?!” Noie tapped aggressively at the white error message that popped up. “No! No, you can’t do this to me! What happened? Did the internet go down? Arghhh, I don’t have time for this!”

                 She paced around the room for a second, hands on her temples. She      had     to submit her slideshow - the presentation was in ten minutes! Why did she always do this to herself?!

                 “I gotta… I gotta fix this.” Noie clicked to troubleshoot her wifi problems, hesitated, then opened her desk. She hadn’t cleaned it out since highschool - maybe she had a USB in here or something?

                     Stars,     she hoped she did. She rifled through random papers and pieces of old homework, growing increasingly desperate as the minutes ticked by too fast and      oh fuck it was 11:50 now she was definitely going to be late-  

                 “Oh!” Noie happened upon something small and grey and rectangular - a USB! “Oh, yes! Thank you thank you thank you!”

                 She kissed it and then plugged it into her magi-orb. After pulling up her files, she copied her slideshow and went over to paste it into the USB’s drive-

                 And there, she paused. Frowned.

                 “Huh?” She moused over a file titled ‘For_Naomi.mov’. “It’s… for me? What is this?”

                 She had never seen this before in her life… or had she? The longer she stared at it, the more      something    came back to her; an awful feeling of déjà vu flooded through her like ice in her veins, and she felt her heart beat faster. She felt her head begin to pound behind her eyes. She stared longer, and she almost saw flashes of something, someone, a dark figure looming over her, digging its claws into her stomach      and ripping out-  

                 Noie staggered back, panting hard. She was shaking all over.

                 “What the…? The fuck?” Noie felt her stomach, then looked back up at the screen. “What the fuck?”

                 Nothing answered her. The only sound was the hum of the air conditioner. She gulped down air, and tried to steady her heartbeat.

                 She shuffled forwards. “Well… that was…” she tapped the screen to minimise the file. “That was… something. Okay. Oh-kay.”

                 Her head had stopped hurting, but everything still felt strange. She stood over the magi-orb, just breathing for a moment. In, and out. In, and out.

                 In, and her eye was drawn to the clock. 11:53. She let it out in a sigh.

                 “I’m gonna be so late.”

                 Noie glanced down at the USB, and grimaced at the way it set her brain tingling - it was like pins and needles inside her skull. Whatever was on it, whatever that file was…

                 She’d deal with it later.

                 The presentation was twenty percent of her grade, and the internet hadn’t come back, and this still seemed like a perfectly fine USB, so she took a deep, shuddering breath and decided to brush over this for now.

                 She copied her slide onto the drive, rubbing her head and trying not to look at the file with her name on it.

                 This was fine, she thought. Everything was fine.

                 Her head hurt when she wondered what was on it, so she tried not to think too hard about that. She thought about getting her keys and getting her bag and getting out the door. On the way to her class, Noie rehearsed her lines, pointedly ignoring the weight in her pocket.

                 There was a flash of something as Noie tiptoed into the back of class. It was cold in here, but she was sweating. She couldn’t shake the feeling that something terrible… had happened? Was happening?

                 She stared through every presenter, tapping the desk with the USB. The weight of it, the slight curve to it that fit around her thumb-

picking it up from the ground gripping it shouting where’d he go WHERE’D HE GO-  

                 “Naomi Argenta?”

                 Noie stiffened. The man who called her name      had wings and a suit and glowing yellow eyes-     then he was just her professor.

                 “Do you have your presentation?”

                 “P… presentation?” Noie nodded, stiffly. “Yes. Yes, I-I have it. I just need to plug it… in.”

                 “Alright. You’re next.”

tore apart the angel horrible screams looking at her like YOU’RE NEXT-  

                 The presentation was… awkward. Noie liked to think she was an okay public speaker - she didn’t need to rehearse something a million times to sound natural. That day, though, she really wished she had a script to fall back on; she stumbled through her words, talking fast, breathing fast, gripping the microphone with white knuckles and trying to think past the pain behind her eyes and the flashes in her vision-

                 “A-and there was, there was this presi-, uh, president, Ch-Chancellor-”

A voice in her ear, a laugh, “a very pro-nat President you guys elected a hundred years or so back-”  

                 She got through it, and was met by scattered applause. Class was nearly over. She took the USB, and sat back down at her desk.

desk and looking over at dipper knowing what he is KNOWING WHAT HE IS-  

                 What was going on? What was happening to her? She groaned into her hands, acutely aware of the heads she was turning right now; just a little longer, then she’d be able to go back to her dorm. Just a little longer, then she’d be able to sort this out.

                     ...Stars, she hoped Val wouldn’t be there.

                 The pain behind her eyes just kept pounding away at her, and it felt like eons before this class was finally dismissed. As soon as she heard chairs moving, Noie stumbled out of her seat and started off on the walk across campus.

                 It usually wasn’t that bad of a walk, but today it seemed to drag on. Time seemed to stretch, and suddenly each footstep

                                                                                                                                                                                                               felt like

                                                                                                                                                                                                                              an

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                              eternity.

Leon’s eyes. They closed, and accepted their fate.  

I want you to know that I don’t regret a thing.  

                 A man’s voice echoed from the pain behind her eyes, and Noie staggered into her dorm room. Her eyes went right to Val’s bed; when they saw it empty, they fixed on the magi-orb.

                 Slowly, almost reverently, Noie took the USB out of her pocket. She was going to find out what was on it

and why there was a part of her that already knew.  

                 She closed the door. Locked the door. Walked to the magi-orb, and sat herself down before it.

                 Breathed. In, and out.

                 Plugged the USB into the base. Saw her name once again - ‘For_Naomi.mov’.

                 Clicked on it

                 and watched

                 and felt the pressure behind her eyes suddenly      pop    and-

                 Oh. Oh.  

                 Oh, no.  

______________________________________________________________

                 It was dark in Noie’s dorm. The lights were off - had been off all through the night - and the early morning sun glowed against the blinds.

                 Noie was there. Lying in bed, on top of her covers. Her phone screen illuminated the deep bags under her eyes, the creases on her forehead, the sheen of sweat that had collected in her hairline.

                 She hadn’t slept all night. How could she? If she closed her eyes, she’d start thinking, and if she started thinking, she’d think about her brother and how he was      Alcor the Dreambender     and how it felt to have his claws dig into her belly and-

                 Noie felt her whole body shiver. She shifted in bed a bit, and stared down at her phone.

                 No. No, she wasn’t going to think about that. It didn’t seem real.

                 Maybe it wasn’t real.

                 Maybe this was all, like, a really intense dream she’d had. All that stuff with the angel and the vampire and… him, that wasn’t her life! That wasn’t the kind of person she was! It wasn’t!

                 Noie could see her hands. Her palms were sweaty - in the darkness, the shine looked a little like blood.

                 She gulped.      It wasn’t.  

                It couldn’t be.  

                She didn’t stab him.  

______________________________________________________________

                 Noie woke to the sound of her phone ringing. She groaned; her head felt awful, and when she moved a hand to cover her face she felt the weight of her phone - she’d gone to sleep with it in her hands.

                 Why’d she do that? And why was it… night outside? She sat up, and looked down at her phone.

                 Dipper Argenta was calling her.

                 She saw his face, and everything came back to her like a kick in the teeth - oh, god. The phone rang again, and she flinched and tossed it to the ground.

                 It sat there, ringing, ringing, ringing. Noie curled up tight and plugged her ears with shaking hands.

                     Ringing.  

                                     Ringing.  

                                                     Ringing.  

                 …

                 Silence.

                 She sniffed, and opened her eyes. Her phone was lying still on the carpet; she stared at it for a second, and then shuffled out of bed to pick it up.

                 Her stomach growled as she got to her feet. Her legs felt weak. She knelt down, and picked up her phone, tapped the screen, squinted as it turned on.

6:23  

Friday, October 29  

Dipper Argenta - Missed call

                 Noie sighed. Of course… she was supposed to call him today. What the fuck was she supposed to do about that?

                 The phone rang again. Noie jerked back and banged her elbow on the edge of her desk.

                 “Ow! Fuck!” She jerked it back, and glared at the phone. “Argh, Dipper, you… you demon.”

                 It felt weird to say it out loud.  The phone kept ringing, ringing, ringing, and she opened her mouth.

                 “You… You…” She stared at his dorky profile picture, the one they’d taken on a trip to the Grand Canyon last year.

                 She stared at the gentle grin on his face, the way his hand came up to stroke his patchy stubble. And to think, all this time, buried underneath that, underneath him…

                 “Y-” she tried, but her throat had gone tight. The words wouldn’t come. Her phone finally stopped ringing, and her brother's smiling face faded to black.

                 Noie took a deep, shuddering breath, and turned off her phone.

______________________________________________________________

Maybe this wasn’t that big a deal.  

                 It was three in the morning on a Saturday, and Noie was wondering if, you know, maybe it wasn’t the end of the world if her brother was a meaty shell formed around a bloodthirsty demon. He was still a demon, yeah, but as long as the demony bits like the wings and the claws and the urge to kill stayed locked away, you’d never be able to tell!

                 So in a way, nothing had changed, right? Just don’t bring up the demon thing, and it could still be normal between them.

                 Noie stared up at the ceiling. She stared up at the moment she slit her brother’s throat, at the terror shining in his eyes, the terror      of her.    She stared until she couldn’t anymore, and pressed her hands to her face.

                     Stars, she never wanted to see that again as long as she lived. If she could get things even halfway normal after that, well…

                 Well, she didn’t know.

                 …

      ��          She didn’t know what she wanted to do.

______________________________________________________________

                 Noie didn’t know what time it was. She didn’t know what day it was. But sometime late at night on her magi-orb, she heard keys jangle outside her dorm. Her heart caught in her throat as the handle turned; for a moment, she imagined she’d see Dipper on the other end, see his golden eyes glowing in the darkness, see-

                 See her roommate Val peek her head in, then raise her eyebrows as she caught sight of her.

                 “Wow, you still awake?” Val cracked a smile. “Lemme guess: some kinda homework shit. Am I right or am I right?”

                 Noie tried to form words, but they caught in her throat. She just stared as Val shut the door.

                 “You not gonna say anything?” A pause. Val’s chuckles died off. “No? You, uh… you alright there, dude? Noie?”

                 She just shook her head. A sob came out of her, and suddenly the lights came on.

                 “Whoa, whoa!” Val stood on the ladder, her bewildered expression looming over Noie. “What’s the matter, dude? What are you doing? Why are you surrounded by… soup cans? And- are those      dry noodles?     What the fuck?”

                 Noie tried to cover them with a blanket. “I-it’s fine… Val, d-don’t-”

                 “Uh, no it isn’t? You look like you haven’t slept all weekend, dude.”

                 “I-”

                 “And your hair. Eugh. When’s the last time you showered, ‘cause it’s officially been too long.”

                 Noie clenched her fists. “I-it’s      fine,     Val. Leave me alone.”

                 “Oh, come on. I’m only trying to help.”

                     “Leave me alone!”     She snapped, and watched Val flinch away. She sighed. “Sorry. Look, it’s just… it’s just complicated, okay? Thank you for the offer, but it’s just… you can’t help, so just leave me alone. Please.” She turned back to her magi-orb. “Let me figure this out.”

                 There was a moment of silence as she tapped away at the screen. Val shuffled her feet, then cleared her throat.

                 “Okay.” She said. Then: “You wanna smoke?”

                 “What?”

                 “I just got a pack, if you wanna-”

                 “No! Just leave me alone!”

                 Val put up her arms. “Okay, okay, you don’t have to be rude about it. Sheesh.” She then turned off the lights. “Well, I’m going to sleep. Good luck with your issues, dude.”

                  She got into her own bed, and Noie sat there in silence. She looked at her magi-orb; there were several articles it had automatically pulled up on demons, and she’d been reading through them before Val came in. As she stared, another one popped up: ‘Fight with your roommate? Browse over 50+ listings in your area with roam4homes.com’

                 Noie turned it off in disgust. Stupid magi-orb - what was she even doing up this late?

                 …She had a class in the morning, didn’t she. What was it, Tuesday now?      Ugh,     yeah, there was no way she was going to that. She felt awful; her head was pounding, and her hands were trembling, and her hair felt dirty and there were little shards of hard pasta in her bed and she was still kinda hungry…

                 Noie put her face in her hands. This was… she couldn’t go on like this. She was going to fail college. She needed to, to talk to Dipper, maybe, or maybe not… well, she needed to come to a decision about whether she was going to talk to Dipper or not. She needed to do      something    to resolve this… but what?

                 She sighed, deeply, then dragged a hand down her face. She looked over at her phone, picked it up, and just held it in her hands. She hadn’t turned it on since Friday; there were bound to be a lot of missed calls on there.

                 Yep, it was probably going to make her feel awful.

                 Yep…

                 …

                 Her stomach growled. She hesitated, and then sat up in bed.

                 Maybe she should get something to eat first.

______________________________________________________________

                 “Here’s your order, ma’am. One crispy fried fish taco and a medium soda.”

                 “Thank you so much!”

                 “Thank you for stopping by, have a good night.”

                 “You too, dude!”

                 Noie stopped for a minute to smell her order before placing it on the seat next to her and driving off. It smelled nice and warm and fishy; Bea said it made her car stink - and yeah, maybe it was a little strong - but she couldn’t see why it smelled bad. It brought her back to drive-through dinners, her grandfather piling everyone into the car and setting out on the road. They used to do them a lot after Allie stopped cooking… it was fun, back then, sitting in a car with her family all around her. It was comforting, and right now, a little comfort sounded good.

                 Noie parked her car under a streetlight in a near-empty parking lot. She took a deep breath, and let it out. She looked at her phone, which sat still turned off in a cupholder.

                 She took a bite of her taco, chewed a little… and then turned it on. It booted slowly; the silence hung for a few, awful moments, before it came to life.

                 The first thing she saw was the time: it was 3:30 in the morning. Then there were her missed calls. She had twenty. Her texts were filled up, too - one of them was from Bea asking to hang out, but the rest were all Dipper:

Sent last Friday at 6:31pm      

>You there?  

>Today is our weekly meeting, btw. That’s why I’m calling.  

Sent last Friday at 6:40pm      

>Let me know when you want to reschedule!  

Sent last Saturday at 8:06pm      

>Are you okay?  

Sent last Saturday at 9:17pm      

>If you’re busy with homework or something that’s fine. Just text me when you get this.  

Sent last Sunday at 11:57pm      

>Please call me, Noie.  

                 Oh… whoops. Noie could feel herself cringing into her seat as she scrolled through his messages. Yep, that was… expected. He was probably worried sick by now, and at that she gave a dry smile.

                 Her brother, Alcor the Dreambender, was worried sick about her. Stars, but it was true, wasn’t it? He used to get worried if she got home from work too late; she only could imagine how frantic he’d be after getting ghosted for a whole weekend.

                 Noie had no idea what she was going to do with him, but the pang in her stomach made her type out a short reply:

Sent last Tuesday at 3:37pm      

>Still alive. Sorry.  

                 She sent it off, and took another bite of her taco. Now he was probably going to call her in the morning. What she was going to say to that, she had no-

                 Bzzzing!  

                 Noie jumped. “Aaah!” She yelped and glanced down at her phone. Dipper was calling. “Seriously? You’re calling me now? It’s three in the- ugh.”

                 She hit the ignore button, hesitated, then went over to her messages. She could already see Dipper typing something up, so she rolled her eyes and sent a text.

>go to bed, ding dong. well talk in the morning ok?  

                 Dipper’s typing paused for a second, and then continued. She snorted a little at that, then brushed some taco crumbs off of her pyjamas.

                 His replies popped up in rapid succession:

>Are you okay?  

>What happened Friday?  

>Also you should go to bed too, it’s 3 in the morning. Don’t you have French at 10 tomorrow?  

                 Despite everything, Noie found herself smiling at his texts. This was so, so... Dipper of him. This was the brother she knew, not Alcor, not some kind of demon.

                 She made a face.

                 Even though… that wasn’t true, was it. Because. Dipper was a demon. The brother she knew had always been a demon.

It’s still me. This is still… me.  

                    Always. She just… hadn’t seen it before, hadn’t known, hadn’t wanted to know-

“Noie?” She watches him stagger back, fall against the binding circle. “Y-your eyes… what’s going on?!”  

                       -let people tell her who she wanted him to be, and then…

her hands on the knife across his throat. her hands feeling the tug of parting skin. her hands covered in warm, golden blood, her hands, her hands, HER HANDS-  

                 Noie didn’t realise she was crying until she felt a sob rip through her body. She’d dropped her phone; with shaking hands and blurry eyes, she fished it out of her lap and turned it on.

                 There was another text from Dipper.

Sent last Tuesday at 3:45pm      

>Just call me after that class, okay? Love you, hope everything’s okay. Sleep well <3  

                 Noie stared down at that text, sniffed, and then smiled. It didn’t last long, though; she thought about what she had to do in the morning, and sobbed into her steering wheel.

                 It was a while before she could bring herself to drive home.

______________________________________________________________

                 Val had left. The door was locked. Her phone was fully charged, and open on Dipper’s phone number. Noie had even dressed herself for the occasion; she passed some time just looking through her t-shirts, waiting for things to feel right.

                 Eventually, she sat down at her desk, took in a deep breath, and let it out. There was nothing left to delay this with anymore… but for a moment, she stared at the wood grain on her desk, at the morning sun shining in and putting a soft glow on her carpet.

                 It had been a weird night. She’d cried a lot. Questioned life. Wondered what the fuck she was going to tell Dipper. Came to a decision, thought it was a terrible idea, talked herself out of it… and then talked herself back into it after every other solution seemed to work out worse.

                 After all that, she finally felt… not calm, but quiet inside, if that made sense. There was an uneasy stillness in her mind, a lull in her thoughts; it was like she’d worried so much about this conversation that she’d exhausted her ability to worry at all. At this point, whatever happened, happened.

                 All she needed to do was get this over with, so Noie looked back down at her phone, pressed the call button, and waited.

                 It rang once.

                 Then it picked up.

                 “Noie!”

                 Dipper. Noie grit her teeth at his face. “Hey,” she said, and then nothing more. Dipper hesitated a moment before replying.

                 “Uh, hi! Hi!” There was relief in his voice. “Oh, I’m      so glad     to hear from you! I couldn’t reach you all weekend - I-I thought maybe you’d lost your phone, I didn’t want to freak out Grandpa so I just- I- what happened?” He stared at her unsmiling face. “Is everything okay?”

                 “Everything’s…” Noie tried for a smile. “Um, it’s nice to see you.”

                 He frowned. “It’s nice to see you too? Also, it’s ten fifteen - aren’t you supposed to be at French? You didn’t have to-”

                 “Are you alone?”

                 “What?” He looked around his room. “Uh, I think Roy’s at class for the next hour. Why?”

                 Noie just stared at her brother’s face. She knew it so well; she knew those worried creases in his forehead, that slight tilt of his head as he leaned in closer. A part of her wanted it to stay like this forever - wanted it to stay normal. Human.

                 “Why? Noie?”

                 But it couldn’t. She knew that now.

                 “What’s going on?”

                 She took another deep breath, and let it out. Didn’t look him in the eyes; she trained them on his chin, and opened her mouth. “Dipper,” she said, slowly, deliberately. “I have to tell you something.”

                 “What? What is it?”

                 He was leaning in very close, now. Her eyes slid down to her desk. “I have to tell you… you need to remember. The deal, it’s broken, you need to remember now.”

                 “Remember? What do you-”

                 “You’re a demon, remember you’re a demon!” Noie’s head shot up; she stared him down. “Dipper, I remember who you are, you’re Alcor the Dreambender and I need to talk to him- I mean you. I need to talk to the whole you.”

                 “Wh- what? Argh!” Dipper clutched his head. “I- what are you talking about, Noie? I’m not a- ugh… I’m, I’m not a-”

                 “Yes you are! You’re Alcor, you took a human form so you could grow up with me. We made a deal so we’d forget but I remember and you have to too, okay!”

                 Dipper had crumpled out of frame; she could only see the top of his head. “Noie…” he moaned. “I don’t… it’s not… what’s… what’s happ̗͘e͎̭͈̭̗ni̲̫̖̜̬n̫͉g?”

                 “Please remember, Dipper.” Noie felt a pang of guilt at the pain in his voice. “I’m sorry it hurts. I didn’t want to do this, but it’s the truth, okay? You’re… you’re a demon.”

                 He wasn’t speaking anymore; she only heard a whimper in reply. There was a wet pop, and then another, and then a tearing sound that made her squirm in her seat.

                 “Dipper?” She watched as the last bit of his head fell out of frame. “How’re you, uh, taking this? Everything okay?”

                 Something bumped against the desk. Other than that, it was dead silent. All she could see was the chore wheel at the far end of his dorm; she stared at it, and waited for him.

                 Waited, until she heard a low, distorted growl. The sound of someone swearing under his breath; a hand coming into frame as it gripped the desk, a tall, suited figure rising up, and locking glowing golden eyes on her.

                 Alcor the Dreambender.  

                 Noie thought she’d gone past worrying, but she saw him and suddenly she was trembling all over. Her stomach flipped and made her feel sick; it was something about those teeth, those claws, those wings flaring out behind him, those eyes staring her down as he dug inside her and ripped and tore-  

                 “Mizar.” Those eyes; she watched them narrow slightly, then widen. “Naomi.”

                 Noie forced a laugh. “That’s… that’s me. Hi. F-fancy meeting you here, huh? Ha! Haha! Jokes. I’m funny!”

                 “N-”

                 “That was an entrance, huh? Ent-er-ance. En-trance. Enterancé! That’s Spanish for, uh, nothing, I just said it in a, in an accent.” She felt herself leaning back as he opened his mouth. “I-it’s actually, uh, entrada, la entrada, th-that’s Spanish for entrance, s-s-so th-that’s-”

                 “Naomi.”

                 Noie stopped talking. She could feel her heart beating in her throat. She closed her mouth and sat there, staring at him. He started to speak, then stopped, sighed, and shook his head.

                 “This… hold on a moment. Stand back.”

                 Noie heard that. It took a second to register, but he reached towards the camera and she backed up to the end of the room. She didn’t know what he was doing at first, but then she saw his hand come out through her phone screen; his head appeared, and then his torso, and then he stepped off of her desk and dusted himself off.

                 “That’s better… Naomi?” His expression fell as he looked at her. “Look, this is… weird, I know. I’m sorry you remembered, that wasn’t meant to happen. What set it off?”

                 She tried to speak, but nothing came out. After a moment, Alcor nodded to himself.

                 “The USB.” He picked it up from her desk. “Of course - why didn’t I think of hiding that? Ugh, that’s dumb. I’m sorry.”

                 Noie swallowed. “I-it’s okay, Dipper-”

                 “It’s no̕t͟. I made a deal, I promised you wouldn’t have to worry about this anymore, but I… I rushed it.”

                 She watched his hands ball into fists.

                 “I just wanted to get away from it all as fast as possible… just like I did with Leon. Just like it! Argh, why can’t I just ge̴̶t į͝ţ t͞h̷ro̵u̵͞g͏͡h̸̸̡ m̢y̨͝ ḩ͢ę̵̡a̡d̵ ͏͝th̸͢a̕t̴̨-” He stopped, and glanced her way. When he saw her flattened against the wall, the echo dropped from his voice. “Sorry. It’s fine… I’m fine, Naomi. I’m not gonna do anything.”

                 He seemed to think for a moment. In the silence, Noie peeled herself off the wall.

                 “It’s just…” Alcor started, and then sighed. He straightened. “Well, it doesn’t matter. I’ll do it right this time, Noie, I promise.”

                 Slowly, he extended a hand. Noie stared at the tips of his claws, then followed his arm up to his face. The demon -      her brother’s     expression was carefully blank, and the black-and-gold stare he fixed her with still sent shivers down her spine. He’d shaved, she noticed.

                 “Dipper?”

                 There seemed so little of her brother to recognise, but…

                 “Just take my hand, Noie. I’ll put it all back to normal, okay? Like you want.”

                 “Normal.” Noie gave a wry smile. “That’s what I always wanted, isn’t it.”

                 Alcor tried for a laugh - it was awkward,      familiar.     “Heh, uh… don’t worry about it. I… I get it, you know? This is a lot. I’m a lot.” He didn’t quite meet her eyes. “It’s… okay, if you don’t want to deal with it.”

                 She recognised that tone. She recognised it from fights they’d gotten into, when she’d said something hurtful and Dipper went quiet. She recognised the pang in her chest.

                 Noie stepped forwards. “Dipper, I-”

                 “And it’s not like I don’t deserve it.” He was talking faster now, hugging himself. “After everything I did to you, a-and your family, it’s no wonder you don’t want me around like this! I killed your dad! I ruined your life! I was horrible and demonic and a monster and-”

                 “I’m sorry.”

                 “I know, I-” Dipper blinked. “Wait, what?”

                 He was staring at her now, golden eyes wide in astonishment. Noie took a deep breath, and clenched her shaking hands.

                 “I wanted to say… I’m sorry, Dipper.”

                 “Why are you sorry? I-”

                 “Let me talk, okay? Because I’ve been thinking on this, and I owe you an apology. I owe you an apology, Dipper.”

                 He frowned, but he didn’t speak. Noie grit her teeth.

                 “It took me a long time to realise I did. It took me all of last week, I barely slept, I ate-” she gestured to her bed, “dry pasta at three AM while I was looking up stories about you, I… well the point is, I know what I did wrong now. I know I didn’t treat you right, bro. And I’m sorry.”

                 Dipper just looked bewildered. “You think      you    didn’t treat me right? I ki-”

                     “I know you killed Leon!” She snapped. “I know, okay? And I’m not saying you didn’t do bad shit, I’m saying we both did bad shit! We both… hurt people, you know?” She shook her head. “I hurt your friend, Lucy Ann. And I hurt y-you.”

                 Her voice cracked a little. She stood there, looking down at the carpet, trying to get it back under control. Dipper’s eyes were boring into her head.

                 “I-I sold you out, bro.” Noie managed. “You and your friend, I sold you out to some pro-nat angel because I thought he could fix you.”

                 “Oh, Noie, I never blamed you. You were possessed, you-”

                 She shook her head. “I wasn’t possessed. Maybe at the last moment it was the angel who stabbed you, but everything that led up to that? That was me.” A crooked smile, a mirthless laugh. “That was… me. And you wanna know why I did that? I was scared of losing you.”

                 “That’s unders-”

                 “I was scared of losing my grip on you. Things were bad, back with Grandpa, okay! Everything with Granny a-and school, everything felt like it was spinning out of control, but you were… you didn’t change up on me. You were always there for me - it was supposed to be the two of us looking out for each other, you know? Not one of us turning into some all powerful demon who… who didn’t need me anymore!”

                 “No! I need you, Noie!”

                 “Don’t say that.” Noie stabbed a finger at him. “Don’t say that, Dipper. You don’t need me.”

                 “I do, I-”

                 “You don’t need me.” She backed away, shaking her head. “Not in the way I wanted you to need me. Because I needed you to stay human and I slit your fucking throat over it!”  

                 Dipper flinched away from her, eyes wide, mouth open, but saying nothing. Her words hung between them. She took a deep breath, and let it out with a shudder.

                 “And maybe…” she started. “Maybe that’s what messed me up so bad. About you being a demon. It wasn’t what you are, or what you did… it’s what I did - what I did and never apologised for. It ate me up inside, Dipper.” She swallowed, hard. “It’s been eating at me all week. I couldn’t handle it when I was fifteen, and I… I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

                 It was silent. Noie hung her head low, and felt the silence stretch. She had nothing more to say but sorry, sorry, sorry… and when she felt a hand on her shoulder, she looked up, wordlessly.

                 Alcor was there, gazing down at her with his gold-on-black stare, his face framed by his fancy suit and by wings as black as the void… but Dipper was there, too. Dipper was there in the nervous smile he flashed her, in the awkward pat he gave her shoulder, in the stuttering way his words tumbled out of his mouth when he tried to speak.

                 “It’s… uh…” he tried. “You… want a hug, Noie?”

                 Noie stared at Alcor, Dipper, her brother for a second. Then, she sniffed, and threw her hands around him. He squeezed back, and she buried her face into his chest as his arms wrapped around her.

                 It was nice, for a moment. Then something else wrapped around her, something warm like skin but also much, much wider and she looked back and-

                 “Aaah!”

                 “Whoa, sorry, sorry!” The darkness swallowing her up suddenly flared out behind Dipper. “Those were just my wings! Sorry!”

                 She stared. “Just your… just your wings, huh.”

                 “Yeah, I-I’m sorry, I should’ve known that would, that would be weird-”

                 “No, no! I’m sorry I freaked out!”

                 “No, don’t be sorry-”

                 “No, you don’t be sorry!” She giggled. “We… we’re a pair aren’t we?”

                 “What do you mean?”

                 “I guess it’s just… I don’t know! I don’t know, Dipper!” She sat down on the bed. “There’s a lot of things I have to get used to, I guess? Having a demon for a brother.” Her chuckles died out. She looked up at him. “But… I’ll work on it, okay?”

                 Dipper frowned. “You… don’t want to forget?”

                 “No. Not again. You’re a demon, Dipper. I don’t want to hide from that anymore. I don’t want to pretend you’re something you’re not.” She smiled. “You’re my brother, Dipper. Everything after that, that’s… I can get used to that, okay?”

                 Slowly, he gave a smile. “Okay.”

                 She grinned, and stood up from the bed. “Now let’s try that hug again, huh?”

                 Dipper sniffed, floated forwards, and wrapped his arms around her. They squeezed each other tight; Noie buried her face into the crook of his shoulder, and closed her eyes.

                 This was okay, she thought.

                 They’d be okay.

______________________________________________________________

                 “Hi! Welcome to Tree’s Teas, how can I- Noie!”

                 “Ey, Sara!” Noie swaggered over to the counter and slung her arm over the counter. “How’s it going? What’s cracking? Hopefully not the mugs, ha!”

                 Sara giggled as she raised an eyebrow. “It’s going okay… how are you? You seem kinda excited today!”

                 “Oh, yeah! I’m hanging out with my friend right now!” She grinned as Sara blushed a deep red. “And! I’m studying econ with my brother, so I’mma need two cups of my usual today!”

                 “Alright!” She picked up a mug. “By usual, do you mean the one tea I ordered for you last week? The Nutty Chai?”

                 “Yeah, yeah, that one! It was good!”

                 “Okay, then!”

                 Sara turned around to pour the tea. Noie fished around inside her wallet - there were so many receipts in here she could barely find her card.

                 “So your brother,” Sarah started. “Are you video chatting with him or something?”

                 Noie opened her mouth-

                 “Wait, you’re buying two teas, I’m dumb.”

                 “You’re not dumb.” She cracked a smile. “Maybe I just really like tea, yknow?”

                 “Heh. We do have free refills.” Sara turned to look at her. “But is he actually in town? Dipper?”

                 “Yeah!”

                 “That’s awesome! How long’s he visiting for?”

                 “Visiting?” The smile froze on her face. “Um…”

                 She trailed off there; Sara seemed to get the hint.

                 “Oh, am I asking like a bajillion questions? I’m sorry.” With a nervous laugh, she placed the first cup on the counter. “I haven’t seen him since high school, that was - wow, that was nearly a year ago!”

                 “Hah! Crazy, right? So much has changed.” Noie stared at steam rising from the mug. “So much has changed.”

                 “I know, right? So that’ll be… five thirty-nine for the two of them, Noie. Noie?”

                 Noie looked up. “Huh?”

                 “Five dollars and thirty-nine cents.” Sara frowned at her from behind the register. “Uh, are you okay?”

                 “Me?” She barked a laugh, started digging through her wallet again. “Oh, I’m fine! Never better! I was just remembering, um… he’s got a beard now. Dipper. It’s really funny.”

                 “Funny?” Sara chuckled a little. “What’s wrong with it?”

                 “Everything, and you’re not allowed to say a word about it.” She handed her card over. “You’ll see, dude. It’s great. He’s so proud of it… I love it.” Her snicker softened to a smile. “I love him.”

                 Sara grinned. “Aww.”

                 “Heh… ahem, anyway,” she took the card. “Enough mushy stuff, this is hard study time! We’re not just gonna pass this test, we’re gonna      destroy    it!”

                 “Heh, I bet you guys will. Good luck!” Sara blushed a little. “Hey, uh, if you’re still here in an hour, you know, I get off work at five, and-”

                 “You wanna join the study party?”

                 “Y-yeah!” She fiddled with her apron. “I mean, if that’s okay, it’s totally fine if it isn’t, I know-”

                 “Hey. Sara.”

                 “Yeah?”

                 “That’d be dope.” Noie pointed a cup of tea at her. “I’ll keep a seat open for you, okay?”

                 “Oh… okay. Okay!” She gave a grin. “Thanks, Noie. Careful with your tea.”

                 “Hey, if I spill some, it’s my brother’s. Anyway, we’ll be outside. See you at five!”

                 “See you!”

                 Noie walked out of the door, two cups in hand. The patio was shaded and covered in mist makers; it felt quite nice, for such a hot day.

                 It felt nice to see Dipper there, tucked away in the corner. He was still wearing a suit, but the eyes that looked up at her were warm and brown; the smile he gave her wasn’t stretched, or full of fangs. It was just… him. Dipper. Her brother.

                 Maybe he was other things, too, but he was always, always her brother.

                 Noie grinned back at him, and walked over.

[whatkikiwrote]

Jen is a character out of an unwritten book. Fairy Michael said it best, "That girl is from another planet." The girl with the spider legs. I say is because a person like Jen doesn't just leave this planet when they die, it'll take awhile before a sparkle like hers dissipates. She was fire, fun and one of the most hilarious people I'd ever met. She was smart as a whip and great company. Jen and I were the girls dating the Hungarians. Thomas and Sam were attached at the hip, which meant for better or worse, so were Jen and I. 

The four of us lived a few months together in a rusty shipping container until the rainy season hit and we were practically flooded out. That was November 2015. The rain in Big Sur fell especially hard that year, breaking California out of it's drought. We were always together in the beginning. Jen would wake at dawn to work her morning shift at Ripplewood and Sam was always ready to walk her to work. If you were unfortunate enough to be in the Ripplewood parking lot around 6am, you'd encounter them with their tongues down each other's throat. Sam and Jen were always making out. I remember once my parents came to visit from Boston, so we took them to the aquarium and my dad joked that Sam and Jen missed the whole thing because they were too busy engulfed in each other.

Living in the shipping container in late October provided minimal heat and sometimes the night temperatures dropped below freezing, so we spent a lot of our time at the pub. To stay warm Sam, Jen and I spent hundreds of hours in the soft glow of the pub's fireplace, while Thomas worked in the kitchen. The pub was located in the same parking lot as our little container, so we would joke it was the living room. I'm sure I'm not the first to say that about the Maiden, and if you were lucky to have spent an evening there, you understand how special it was. A little cozy corner community of people off the beaten Highway one path.

To bide our time I wrote. And drank.

Harassed the bartenders.

 Sam read countless books. But Jen could never sit still. She would pick up a book she was interested in, read a few pages and then start another one. She'd get bored, order a beer from Spencer or, if it was Friday night, from Heavy Metal Chris. She'd roll a cigarette on the bar, go outside by the barrel to smoke and every time I’d glance out the window at her, she would be hugging someone new. Lots of times she'd spot a friend in the parking lot, jump in their car, leave her stuff inside and come back hours later to her beer and purse, right where she'd left them. You don't deserve that kind of community love unless you work for it and Jen certainly did. She was always around and if I needed her in a pinch, I only had to use the “Big Sur telephone”,  "Hey everyone!” I’d call into the open doors of the pub, If you see Jen, tell her I'm looking for her." "Which Jen?" Someone would ask. "The one with the long legs." I’d reply. "Crossed eye Jen?" That was another thing about us. We both had occasionally lazy eyes.

In November Thomas and I moved into our Kia Forte and Sam and Jen moved into her Jetta. We didn't see them as much. Sam and Jen stayed in the valley, sleeping at The Grange while Thomas and I drove down to the south coast and spend our time off surfing at Sand dollar. I remember once we took Sam and Jen out to surf. I let her borrow my board and watched in horror like a worried mother as she flipped and flopped and smashed her and my board over and over again until she realized she could use just use it as a boogie board. I can still remember the endless joy on her face, even today, years later, holed up in a giant downtown apartment, far far away from the Pacific. That cute squinty smile. She wouldn't give me my board back for the rest of the day, no matter how much I pleaded.

In late December Thomas and I decided to move to Monterey. The day we signed our lease I drove to LA to get the rest of my stuff I had left behind when I abruptly decided to follow my heart and move to Big Sur. When I came home to Monterey, the apartment had been completely decorated. It looked like a homeless hippie had vomited all over our walls and, I guess she kinda did. Jen welcomed me with her big goofy googly eyed smile and offered me a plate of burnt cookies. That wasn't the only time Jen decorated my apartment or cooked for us .Once she made a stew of eggs, beans, greens and any condiment and spice she could find in the fridge and cabinet, including the fish sauce. We all took bites to be nice and then fed our portions to the dogs when she wasn't looking. Poor dogs.

Jen and Sam lost their jobs that winter and survived off of Chips Ahoy. They'd sleep over regularly to do laundry, take showers, smoke giant bong rips. We’d get massively stoned and lounge around listening to music while braiding each other's hair. We always had some new abalone or jade or money or doobie or gossip to share. Our collective favorite drink was a latte with a double shot of Bailey's so when they would sleep over, as a thank you, Jen would always make us Bailey's coffee in the morning. One thing Jen was exceptional at, other than being a phenomenal friend and muse, was making lattes. 

Once Jen hosted a dinner party at Coast Gallery, where Henry Miller’s famed water colors hang on the walls. It was just the four of us and Geologist Steve, who was living there at the time. Jen welcomed us at Steve’s door as if it were her own home. The small apartment had access to the latte machine in the commercial kitchen and together we drank at least 10 if not more coffees. She had made little foam hearts in every cup.

 High on caffeine we walked out to the balcony where the cafe serve sandwiches and drinks and looked out at the moon shinning off the ocean. There were few clouds in the sky as the marine layer had dispersed and clearly we could see shooting stars falling around us. Thomas took me by my hand and we started to waltz, as we circled around, I caught a glimpse of Sam and Jen, tongues down each other’s throats. It’s silly how when you are young you believe a moment can last forever.

Jen and I were like sisters. We didn't always get along in the beginning and we'd go long spans of time not seeing each other, but we always had the other's back. If I needed a job, she'd find one for me. If she needed to talk, we'd find each other. Once I took her to that dive bar in Seaside every Big Sur local has been to. I forgot the name. It was noon on a Tuesday and the place was packed. We spent too much money on booze and too much time complaining to each other about the difficulties of being us. After a very short lived game of pool, we decided it was time to leave, but as I reached to open the door, a man blocked my exit and said, "Where do you think you're going?" I stood motionless, freaked out, but Jen just swatted him away and walked out of the dark into the daylight without a blink. 

Eventually she and Sam made a deal with some deeply loved locals and ended up building their own little shack on a mountainside. Jen found a book on gardening and designed her own, at one point she dug out her own stairway down to the garden. Sam and Jen’s only other source of entertainment was a keyboard piano. When Thomas and I would come to visit, Jen and I would play duets. We were shit at it, but that didn't matter. Jen and Sam were living in a dream world. They forged for seaweed at the beach and dried it. They found a colony of bees and tried to harvest the honey. Two of their four walls were made of glass. They watched and documented the Sobranes Fire from their bed. One day as the fire raged, we climbed on their roof and drank Bailey's coffee from their makeshift kitchen: a tarp, a cooler and a small propane stove

.It's been 3 years since I've seen Jen. Thomas and I ran out of money and options after the Pub closed, so we decided with heavy hearts to move to the other side, my side, of the country. She and Sam broke up about a year after we moved. A poor choice, a painful ending, a breakup I wonder if I could have stopped, had I been there.

Despite the distance, I still shared photos with her, of the dogs, of our wedding, our first born little girl. And Jen has never left us, it wasn't even a week ago Thomas and I were sharing memories about her. I still have the pieces of jade we traded,  but I'm realizing now that she's gone,  how little of her I still keep. My apartment used to be where she kept her books,  her clothes,  some memories. Typically when a person you love dies,  there's a funeral to attend,  a gathering of friends to mourn with, but all I have is Thomas and somehow we'll have to tell Sam. How do you tell someone the greatest love of your life is dead? I'm sure it'll be a few more hours until I find out the details of her passing, a few more hours until the shock wears off and I find myself mourning my friend while playing with my children,  doing the dishes or driving in the car. 

Everyone has their own idea about what happens after we die. Thomas thinks we live on only in memories and DNA, I think a bit more spiritually than that.  Anyway, what we think doesn’t matter. Wherever Jen is, besides in all our hearts,  I know she's having a hell of an adventure and I hope someday we can ride those waves again at Asilimar.

[despair-tummy]

if you're still open for requests, maybe syo feeding a really fat byakuya?

Sure, ngl Bya.kuya is fun to write.

[[MORE]]

A Togami was supposed to be the very definition of perfection. Intelligent, sharp, witty, in top physical condition and health, skillful, resourceful and powerful. Byakuya prided himself on not only being the current head of the Togami’s ever-expanding empire but also the youngest male to ever win. He competed against his siblings from his father’s various mistresses and came out on top. Earning his place in the world by meeting and going above and beyond with each expectation placed before him. Indeed, Byakuya Togami was the very definition of what a Togami should be in all aspects...

Well, maybe he was struggling in one aspect more than he would like to admit. It wasn’t intentional, not in the slightest. He couldn’t exactly pinpoint where it started to slip from his hands, but somewhere along the line, he lost control.

It crept up on him, slowly. He was naive and didn’t see it at first, and when he did he refused to acknowledge it. Because acknowledging its existence would mean accepting the fact he was getting fat. That little flab of extra softness on his middle was hardly as concerning as the mystery shrouding the depths of this academy. And his blazer could easily hide it safely from everyone’s view. He was so confident in himself that the little extra weight would go away if he cut back on eating.

Granted, it would have if actually cut back on snacking so unnecessarily. But it was a shameful moment of weakness on his part, to give in to such overindulgence. But as much as he hated to admit it, every man had his weakness. His came in the form of chocolate cake.

It was bad enough Toko and her disgusting lack of hygiene stalked him to such annoying lengths, but her split personality was just as bad, if not worse. Byakuya believed himself to be unbreakable when it came to willpower, but in reality, he was like a block of ice. You wait long enough and it would melt.

If Toko was persistent in following him around like a puppy, Syo took that to new extremes. But much to everyone’s surprise including his own, Syo could be reasoned with. Despite being a serial killer who killed men in a gruesome manner, she too had an array of hobbies aside from murdering and harassing him. Though Syo being as unexpected as she was, she had a completely unexpected hobby... baking.

It would start with the serial killer harassing him with a slice of chocolate cake she made just for him. He refused, many times. But once Syo promised to leave him alone for the rest of the day he begrudgingly gave in. Much to his relief, the cake slice was free from hair, blood or anything else from her horrible smelling body. And to his surprise, the taste wasn’t awful. It certainly didn’t compare to the cakes his personal chefs could make, but it could pass as eatable and wasn’t as dreadful tasting as he originally thought it was going to be.

Sure enough, it became a daily thing, Syo would offer to leave him alone in exchange he had to eat whatever she baked. It didn’t take long for that little extra weight to appear, and for him to spiral out of control from there.

That small pudge just got bigger, and it wasn’t just his midsection that fell victim to the extra weight. One slice of cake eventually grew into two slices, and soon three slices, it wasn’t long before he was basically eating a whole cake a day. And sure enough, his weight skyrocketed.

The floor creaked underneath his feet with every step he took, he tried his hardest not to pant. He was the current head of the Togami cooperation, simply walking from his dorm to the dining room shouldn’t make him winded! But the sweat that dripped from his round face and soaked underarms begged to differ. Every step he took was a struggle given the massive amount of pillowy fat that hung off his legs and uncomfortably rubbed together with each step, making his feet look comically small in comparison.

But it wasn’t just his bottom half that had underwent such a change, the upper half of his body wasn’t faring much better. His stomach hung and sagged, peeking out from under his shirt just enough to expose his navel. It was embarrassing enough having to request Monokuma provide him with attire that fitted before, but he found himself having to do so regularly.

Then there were his arms, they were offering less and less useful as they grew so thick with fat that it hung, resembling a flying squirrel in flight with its sagging skin as oppose to human arms.

His face, rounder from all the weight he piled on and there was that double chin he was sporting. He was far from the slender and intimidating heir that first entered Hope’s Peak Academy, that Byakuya was long gone. Buried in hundreds of pounds of excess weight somewhere, all that remained was his usual cold and to the point demeanour... well, at least that was demeanour he tried to keep. It was hard to appear professional and collective when a button popped off from his already skin-tight suit or when he was out of breath from walking short distances.

He quickly dabbed the sweat off his forehead with the cloth he used to clean his glasses. There, hopefully, he would manage to look someone presentable, like the old Byakuya Togami did a few hundred pounds ago.

He straightened his back, despite the fact it caused the white dress shirt he wore underneath to ride up and expose his pale midsection. But a Togami never slouched, not in the history of his family line. And Byakuya didn’t intend to be the first.

After taking a deep breath, he opened the door. He was the last to arrive, one because he never cared for the morning meetings Kiyotaka tried to get them all to attend. And secondly, it was difficult to get the motivation to walk these days.

“Maaaaster~!” the ever so dreadfully familiar voice of Genocider Syo said in a sickeningly sweet sing-song manner.

There in the middle of the dining hall was Syo, waving him over along to the table which was packed with multiple desserts. He tried his hardest not to show his exhaustion, but the sweat dripping down from his fat redden face was a dead giveaway.

“I got your seat all ready too.” Syo grinned, gesturing to the row that consisted of three seats. Yup, you heard that correctly. It took three chairs for him to be able to sit comfortably.

He remained silent, trying to ignore the gazes collectively on him from the others. He huffed and sat down, all three chairs giving a less than subtle creak as his massively round rear settled into the chairs.

“I woke up extra early to make all of this for yoooou.” Syo sang, tying a napkin around his neck, a miracle he even still had one at this point. “The more you eat, the more time I get to spend with you before I got to go.” she crackled, setting a bowl of chocolate mousse before him. “Now open up,” she used a spoon to scoop a hefty spoonful of mousse.

Normally he would have protested to eating so much, and especially to Syo spoon-feeding him. But that was ages ago, he regretfully became accustomed to this. As well as everyone else, the odd stares from the other students grew fewer and fewer as time went on as they got used to this odd display, but they didn’t completely stop and Byakuya doubted they ever will.

“The things I do for peace and quiet...” Byakuya muttered to himself and allowed Syo to feed him the spoonful with great reluctance.

Sure he could opt for her to feed him somewhere more private, but Byakuya didn’t even want to think of all the crude things Syo were to say if he ate like this with her privately.

An empty bowl later she presented him with a plate full of chocolate truffles. Despite eating an absurd amount of mousse, his stomach let out a barbaric grumble, signalling it wanted more. Much to Byakuya’s embarrassment, eating so much was one thing, but actually craving it was another.

“Don’t worry, I made more than enough!” Syo crackled, popping a few in his mouth following by giving his stomach a pat.

As soon as his teeth broke into the truffles his mouth was coated in a sickeningly sweet layer of milk, dark and white chocolate.

He forced himself to swallow, sure enough, another handful of truffles and another explosion of chocolate in his mouth, and repeat.

Two dishes down, countless more to go. Next up was the one that started this snowballing, chocolate cake. Though instead of single slices like it was the first time, as of late it was whole cakes.

“Open wide,” Syo grinned, bringing a forkful to his lips.

It was a miracle he wasn’t sick of chocolate cake yet or anything chocolate related for that matter. It wasn’t long until the cake was reduced to nothing but a few crumbs.

“Are we done yet?” Byakuya asked, trying and failing to stifle a burp.

Syo just gave one of her deranged laughs before setting a plate before him. Byakuya guessed he was going to be here a while before he eventually got some peace and quiet. Donuts, cupcakes, ice cream, pudding, cookies and everything else you could think of were fed to him, all chocolate flavoured of course to stay with the theme.

The desserts disappeared and were replaced with towers of empty plates stacked on top of each other. As the last chocolate-filled pastry passed his lips, even he didn’t Have enough dignity to hold back a full burp as he leaned back in his seat. His already doughy and wide stomach was extra taut from the sheer amount of food. His suit was already clinging to him tightly like a second skin, but now it seemed to almost magically cling tighter, bringing even more attention to the collection of rolls of fat he had. Making him look more like an overstuffed sausage than a refined man.

He panted, finding himself almost as exhausted as he was when he walked up the flights of stairs to get to the library.

“There, I...I finished your baking.” Byakuya spoke, unable to help but put a hand on his swollen gut and tried to rub the ache of fullness away. “You know the deal, now leave.”

“Awwwww, but master, I have a another course just waiting for you in the kitchen. I couldn’t fit it all on the table.” she poked his soft yet somewhat hard stomach. “Though... if you rather spend the day with little old me, we could-“

“Bring on the second course!” Byakuya answered immediately.

“As you wish.” Syo grinned, happily skipping off to fill the table with dishes of sweets yet again.

[whitetigerdemoness]

Taking a break from Marc and Nathaniel to see how the Agrestes are holding up. They'll be back next chapter!

The more massive a star, the shorter its lifespan. A very massive star may live only tens of millions of years, while a cool dwarf will shine on for billions of years. At an age of about 4.5 billion years, our Sun is considered middle-aged

Master Post

Ladybug mentally groaned as she swung around the corner to see the press outside of the Agreste mansion gates. While this was to be expected, it would be nice if they could give the family more than an hour or so to grieve before swarming. Landing on the pillars supporting the front gates she surveyed the crowd, who became excited at her appearance, thinking she should go ahead and get this out of the way before Adrien or Emile had to deal with them. Standing at the head of the crowd preaching to the cameras was...sigh.

“Mr. Berger. Shouldn’t you be in post processing still from your court verdict?” Ladybug asked from her perch on the gate. No way she was going down to their level to get clawed at.

“Ladybug.” Sneered Berger. “Back from setting up your next plot? Or were you just paying off your latest actors?” The Office of Akuma Affairs (OAA for short) stubbornly claimed that all akuma attacks were done by paid actors, paid for by the city’s heroes as publicity stunts. They also ardently ignored the fact that their own leader had been akumatized at one point, something Berger himself denied ever happening.

“Mr. Berger, please. The Agreste family would like some peace to grieve before you start throwing conspiracy theories at them again.” Behind the man, the crowded had gone silent, cameras and reporters eagerly watching the exchange.

“Conspiracy theories? I think you mean exposing the truth. After all, are we supposed to believe that little stunt earlier was real? That some woman just, what, walked into a maximum security prison with an elaborate costume on and killed two prisoners without anyone noticing?” Berger folded his arms smugly, looking condescending.

Turning to the cameras, Ladybug addressed the press “We’re still uncertain to the extent of what happened at the prison today. Any information will go through the police before it reaches my team.”

“Ladybug!” A reporter cut in “What do you have to say about this new Hawkmoth?”

Berger opened his mouth to giver his own two cents but Ladybug cut him off “The appearance of this new Hawkmoth is as shocking to us as it is to you. I know that her more….aggressive approach has frightened many of you but I promise that my team and I will-”

“Aggressive?!” Berger interjected. “She beheaded two people on public television! Think of how many children were watching, now permanently traumatized by what they saw! When are you people going to take real responsibility for these attacks and how they affect the public?” The man screamed, waving his hands theatrically. Ladybug squared her shoulders to fire back at him, when the doors of the mansion swung open.

Emile Agreste, Dusuu zipping around her head in concern, stepped onto the walk and made her way to the gate. She looked pale and drawn, grim. Samson followed a step behind her, looking just as grim but more intimidating. Ladybug jumped down from the gate to meet her.

“Mrs. Agreste-” Emile held up a hand for silence as she continued to approach the gate.

“You ask when we will take responsibility for how Hawkmoth has affected this city? Mr. Berger, I have tried to do nothing but ever since my revival. I thought that as Paon, I could give back to the city where my husband has taken so much. And in thanks, that city has taken my husband from me. From my son.”

“This city hasn’t done anything to you-” Emile cut the man off.

“This city.” She said firmly “Has done nothing but hound and harass my family for MONTHS.  We are only two weeks into this month and already I have had to call the police to deal with armed trespassers on my property twelve times. Twelve Mr. Berger. Last month it was more than sixty times. You and your group especially have hounded me, my son, and anyone even vaguely connected to us for months . I fear for his safety Mr. Berger. I may be a superhero but I am a mother first. Ladybug,” She said grimly, turning to face the heroine, “My public connection to you and the miraculous has brought nothing but ruin to my family. I thank you for all your support, but I am here and now resigning from my role as the holder of the Peacock Miraculous.” Emile unpinned the brooch from her shirt and placed it into the hands of a stunned Ladybug.

“I think it would be better if me or my son were never seen with you again, Ladybug .” Emile stressed. With that she turned her back on the now calmoring reporters and returned to her home. The muffled ‘thud’ of the doors closing echoed in Ladybug’s head as she stared at the miraculous in her hand.

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

Ladybug might have been banned from the Agreste mansion, but Marinette hoped she had read Emilie’s tone correctly that her civilian self was still welcome. Swinging a few blocks away, she had found an out of the way sewer entrance and detransformed. Emilie had thought it wise to keep the subterranean room she had been held in secret from the public, as it provided another entrance into the house that was easy to exploit. When superhero fans and hate groups alike had promptly proceeded to spend nearly every waking (and some they should have been sleeping) hour harassing the Agrestes after Gabriel’s arrest and Emilie coming out to the public as Paon, that turned out to be a wise decision. The secret entrance was an easy way for those in the know to drop by without being harassed by fans or the media. People like Adrien’s girlfriend. Or his boyfriend.

Approaching the secure door that led into the Agreste property, Marinette spotted Luka pacing nervously in front of it.

“Luka!” She said, jogging the last few steps.

“Marinette. Hey.” He said, looking uncertain. Warning flags immediately went off. Luka was almost never indecisive.

“What’s wrong?” Marinette asked, taking his hands.

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” He chuckled slightly. “Or at least if you’re okay. I saw...well, I think all of Paris did.”

“So you rushed over to see Adrien?”

“Without a thought. Now I’m having second ones. What if he wants to be alone right now? I mean, his father just died and I saw that circus outside the gates. He probably just wants some quiet right now.” Luka stroked the back of Marinette’s hand with his thumb, thinking.

“We left him with Chloe, he’s probably not getting much quiet right now anyway.” Tiki giggled slightly, flying out of Marinette’s purse where she had been consoling a dejected Dusu. The blue kwami trailed after her, his usual zip subdued.

“Hey Tiki...and Dusu? What’s he doing with you, Marinette?” Luke questioned.

“You said you saw the media outside. Guessing you didn’t stay around long enough to hear me, Ladybug, address them.” Luka shook his head, looking worried. Marinette continued on with a sigh. “That idiot Berger was there stirring the pot, and I guess the broadcast was live because near the end Emilie came out and gave him a piece of her mind. Then she publicly resigned as Paon.” She laid her head against Luka’s chest as he hugged her, feeling some of her stress melt away. Some of it.

“Hey. You, me, Adrien. Spa day.” Luka murmured into her hair, stroking her back. Marinette laughed dryly.

“I think we’ll have to invite Marc and Nathaniel this time. They’ve got a bigger headache to deal with than me for once. Though he’s kind of my headache too…” Luka gave her a quizzical look. “Penknight is back. In the akuma battle Paon tried to make a Sentimonster ally and got him instead.”  When Luka’s face scrunched up in distaste, Marinette had to laugh.

“Oh come on. He’s not that bad.” She giggled, feeling even more stress flow away. Luka was good at that.

“Penknight is that bad. If he’s the same as he was last time, someone needs to put him over their knee and spank him, and not in a sexy way.” Luka grumbled. Marinette held her stomach, trying to fight the giggles at that mental image.

“He is a bit of a brat, isn’t he?” She said, trying to control her breathing.

“Say that after you have to babysit him for twelve hours straight. His devotion to Marc was adorable, but he treated everyone else like un-favored playmates that kept trying to steal his favorite toy. Speaking of babysitting, please tell me someone is watching him right now?” Luka said, looking like he hoped that person wouldn’t end up being him.

“Marc, and technically Nathaniel, are keeping an eye on him. We had some...words, to put it lightly that made me think. Marc has his amok and can wrangle him if he gets unruly. Hopefully. Why did I leave him alone again?” Marinette groaned into her hands.

“Because Adrien and Emilie need you right now.” Tiki gently reminded her. “They’ll be happy to see you both, I’m sure.”

“I don’t want to see her.” Marinette almost didn’t hear Dusu, he spoke so low.

“Dusu?” She asked.

“Things got hard and she just abandoned me. I don’t want to see her. I don’t want to see anyone.” Dusu sniffled as Tiki lay a comforting paw on him. “My wielders all either end up dead or wishing they were, and I’m so tired of losing people. I just want to rest.” He cried, full out bawling by the end. Marinette gathered him up in her hands and hugged him to her chest as best she could. Luka layed a comforting hand over hers as the little kwami cried.

“You don’t have to see her if you don’t want to Dusu. I can leave your miraculous downstairs if you like, and when we get home I’ll put you straight in the miracle box so you can see the other kwami.” Marinette soothed.

“I think I’d like that. We’ve all been separated for so long, and I just want to rest.” Dusu sniffled.

“Well...the sooner we go in, the sooner you can go home.” Luka inhaled, keying in the code to open the door. Marinette followed him inside, leaving her purse with the peacock miraculous and Dusu hanging near the elevator. Tiki decided to stay with him and watch the miraculous. Bracing for more tears, Marinette and Luka headed upstairs.

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

Chloe thought she was being remarkably patient, for her, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t relieved to see Marinette and dumpster boy when they came up. At Emilie’s urging, they were all in the sitting room. Emilie and Marinette exchanged a tense stare, before the older woman nodded subtly and the younger woman flew at Adrien with a hug. Luka followed at a more sedate pace. Emilie had turned off the TV after she had come back inside, and Chloe thought that was for the best. Her heart ached for Adrien and his mother, Emilie had honestly been more of a mother to her than her own over the years, but Chloe had always been bad at the touchy feely part. She tended to react to people being upset by putting her back up and lashing out, and she knew that isn’t what either of them needed right now. She had done her very best to be silent up until now, but that time was over.

“So what’s the plan?” Chloe asked, interjecting over the whispered conversation between the trio.

“Plan?” Marinette asked, looking stupid as usual. Chloe still had trouble believing she was actually Ladybug.

“Yes, plan! That new Hawkmoth- Hawk bitch just declared war. You cannot let that go unanswered. Miraculous holders are NOT to be messed with, and the new kid on the block needs to learn that.” Chloe said firmly.

She had spent years watching her father handle political rivals and no matter what people thought, she HAD learned a thing or two. If someone made a threat and you rolled over, you were as good as done for. She stared firmly at the trio across from her so her eyes didn’t stray to Emilie. The younger blond absolutely thought the elder was making a huge mistake giving up her miraculous, especially when Chloe herself had had to fight tooth and nail every step of the way just to hold hers for more than a moment. She hoped that once Emilie had had some time to think, she would realize what a mistake she had made in giving away her power. If this new Hawkmoth was dead set on attacking them, someone without a miraculous would be as good as defenseless against her.

“Chloe, there’s nothing we can do at this point. All we can do is wait for her next akuma and go from there. Not that that matters. We won't defeat her for several years, if ever.” Adrien said glumly.

“What do you mean?” Emilie asked, zeroing in on how certain he sounded.

“A hero from the future visited us once. Bunnix. Hawkmoth was still active in her time, and that was at least three years from now. I thought maybe history had changed somehow when we...defeated Father, but of course it can’t be that easy.” Adrien delivered in a monotone, resting his head on Luka’s chest while Marinette stroked his hair.

“Who knows, kid? The future isn’t as set in stone as people like to believe. If you’ve ever heard Fluff go off an a tangent, which I do NOT recommend by the way, you’d hear about how something as tiny as deciding to wear a green sock instead of a blue sock can spawn hundreds of different alternate realities that can be so alike you wouldn’t notice if you accidentally fell into one, or so different the world has ended or something. Just because of socks!” Plagg cried buzzing around in distress. “Cheese is so much more simple than time!”

“Plagg is right. I told you about the future Bunnix took me to with Chat Blanc. The only thing I changed here to prevent that was not signing my name on your present.” Marinette chimed in. “We haven’t heard from Bunnix in quite some time. We have no way of knowing if her future is going to be ours anymore. Heck, if we really wanted to be sure I could just never give her her miraculous.”

“Wouldn’t work baby bug. Miraculous are funny like that. Fu shoulda told you some of this stuff, but every generation that we’re active in, the miraculous inevitably find their way to the best person to wield them.” Plagg shook his head, crossing his arms.

“What about me?” Chloe asked. “I found my miraculous by accident.”

“There are no accidents when the miraculous are involved. It’s why they’re miraculous and not just...magic rocks.” Plagg said.

“No coincidences...like the first Sentimonster Paon made when akuma attacks started again being Penknight, and not just one of the blob looking ones?” Luka asked thoughtfully. Plagg shrugged.

“That would be more Dusu’s department, but from what I hear? One’s that can pass for people and think for themselves are really rare. I’m shocked you’ve seen two of them in one lifetime.” Plagg said.

“Two?” Emilie asked. “And you have both had dealings with time travel? When was all this?” She asked, looking overwhelmed.

“Nathalie made a Ladybug sentimonster when she was still Mayura. She killed her though by removing her amok.” Marinette said, looking sad.

“As for time travel, short term Luka probably has the most experience. It’s what the snake miraculous does, sends you back in time five minutes. The rabbit can go as far as the wielder wants though.” Adrien explained while Emilie rubbed her temples.

“Why haven’t I ever heard of any of this?” She asked.

“Honestly mom? You never asked. We went through tons of crazy stuff before you were revived due to akumas.”

“And you’re going to go through all that again?” Emilie asked, a stubborn look forming on her face.

“Adrien is the best cat for the job, and if you take it away from him you might be dooming all of Paris.” Plagg cut in, uncharacteristically serious.

“...We may have to do that anyway.” Marinette said softly. “Too many people know our identities. I don’t want to just dump this job on someone else but…” She sighed.

“But nothing! Our friends won't tell anyone!” Adrien argued.

“And if they get akumatized?” Marinette calmly shot back. There was a stretch of uncomfortable silence.

“Oh for heaven's sake! You’re both over thinking this! Plagg JUST said there were no coincidences with the Miraculous. It’s fate or something right?” The destruction kwami made an ‘eh’ motion, and Chloe ploughed on. “If you’re still meant to be Ladybug and Chatnoir no one will find out who you are. The miraculous won’t let them.”

“Chloe it’s not that simple-”

“Could be.” Plagg said, lazily floating on his back. “or you could just erase everyone’s memories of you being Ladybug and Chatnoir.”

“What?!” The entire room, except Samson who was silently watching the exchange, shouted.

“Yesh, don’t yell! My ears are delicate.” Plagg simpered. “The miraculous cure works by fixing what YOU think is wrong.” he waved a paw at Marinette “So if you think it’s wrong for your friends to know your secret identities, they won't. Wouldn’t be the first time you brain blasted them with the cure. Heck, you’ve blasted yourself a few times.” Marinette looked conflicted.

“It can’t be that easy, and is that even morally sound? Altering their memories without their permission?” She worried.

“You should do it.” Emilie said. “Erase my memory too. It’s safer if no one knows but you two.” Emilie’s eyes strayed to Luka.

“I understand.” He told her, over Adrien and Marinette’s protests. “I knew both your identities from the first day you gave me the snake miraculous, but I was also never akumatized again. If this is the best way to keep you both safe…” He trailed off.

“No.” Marinette said firmly. “I won’t lie to my partner, either of you, ever again. Master Fu forced Adrien and I to hide our identities for so long, and it caused so many problems between us...I won’t do that to you, Luka.” Adrien echoed her thoughts.

“But you should do it to me, and your friends.” Emilie cut in.

“Ugh. Utterly ridiculous that I have to let you mess with my head. But,” Chloe sighed dramatically “Anything for Adrikins. Just know that I am not responsible for any schemes I come up with to break you up with him after I forget you’re Ladybug.”

Marinette and Adrien exchanged looks, having a silent conversation. In the end Marinette hung her head and sighed.

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

“Damn Ladybugs.” Penknight growled, swatting at the magical swarm as they tried to approach where he, Marc, and Nathaniel were stiffly sitting on the Anciel’s couch halfway across the city. Sitting across from them in the lounge chair was their biggest obstacle yet: Marc’s overprotective, older sister.

[the-awkward-outlaw]

Second Chances - Ch. 6

The Coming of the Storm 

Warnings: swearing, angst, blood, violence

Word count: ~9650

Two weeks have gone by since your arrival to Horseshoe Overlook. The camp is now up and fully functional. When you haven’t been in camp helping Grimshaw or Pearson, you and Arthur have been out hunting. While most of the meat you get from hunting goes to Pearson, you and the outlaw often stop in Valentine to sell the pelts and horns of the bucks, rams and elk you’ve killed. 

You head into Valentine now on Rain with Arthur and his paint horse, who he still hasn’t named, both loaded with pelts. You wrinkle your nose at the heavy odor of livestock animals all throughout the town. For some reason, the roads are always muddy. The people seem simple enough though. You’re sure if you had to go out robbing any of them, it would be easy enough. 

You both bring your horses to a stop near the butcher’s outside the Saint’s Hotel and sell him your pelts. Arthur counts his money quickly, then declares he’s going to go into the shop and buy a few things. You agree to meet him in the saloon next to the shop.

You trudge your way through the thick mud and up the steps into the saloon. Since it’s late in the morning, it’s relatively empty, except for a couple of men at the poker table, and a couple more scattered throughout. One of them in the back near the barber looks like a trapper. He’s wearing a mountain of furs with a raccoon hat, his face covered by a wild, tangled beard. 

You go to the bartender and order a shot of whisky while you wait for Arthur. Several moments go by, and the doors swing open. You turn to see if it’s him, but instead it’s two young men. From their clothes and the mud that splatters them, you’re sure they’re ranch hands. Probably brought in some livestock to sell and are here for a drink before they return to wherever they came from. They spot you on your lonesome leaning against the bar. 

“Well, looky here, George,” one of them nudges the other. He stares at you, and the look in his eye makes you feel anxious. “Ain’t seen a fine thing like this in some time!”

The last word you would use to describe yourself would be ‘fine’, seeing as you haven’t had a proper bath in days. Your hair’s dishevelled, and your shirt and jeans are covered in dirt from hunting. You’re sure you don’t smell the best either. 

“You’re sure right, Jeremiah!” the other one says, looking towards you as well. They both approach you, smiling.

“Hey there, little lady,” the one named Jeremiah says, leaning against the bar next to you as you shoot back your drink. “How much for me to get one afternoon with ya?”

You glare at him. “I ain’t a workin’ girl, mister. You want one of them, feast your eyes on the women over there,” you motion to the two girls standing at the back of the saloon, fanning themselves.

Jeremiah takes a step back to look at them, then he leans towards you again. “Who said I thought you was a workin’ girl?”

“I ain’t for sale, mister!” you snarl, turning to face him head on. “And I sure ain’t spending an afternoon with you, money or not.”

“Hey, that ain’t no way for a girl to talk,” George says, getting closer to you. 

“Well, apparently I have to, since neither of you seem to understand the meanin’ of the word no.”

George’s face darkens and you can tell he’s thinking of hitting you. It’s a face you saw many times on your husband. You prepare to brace yourself.

“Easy there, fellers,” Arthur says, walking up from behind them, coming to stand next to you. His brow is heavy over his eyes, darkening them. “If you really want her, yer gonna have to go through me.”

The two men size Arthur up; he’s much larger than them. 

“Ah, she ain’t worth it,” Jeremiah shoots, waving his hand at you. They both turn away and start talking to the bartender.

You thank Arthur and then notice he’s wearing a new outfit. Black button-up shirt under a stamped red leather vest and a dark green shotgun coat. Dark jeans tucked into black leather half-chaps and black boots. You avert your eyes from his chest, which is slightly exposed under the shirt since he’s left the top two buttons undone and his collar popped up. He still wears his old hat, though.

The two of you turn and order more drinks from the bartender, the two men who had just been harassing you leaving the saloon. You order two more shots. “His is on me,” you say.

“Nah, ya ain’t gotta buy my drinks, Y/N,” he tries to argue.

“Arthur, please. Let me do this for you, since you got rid of those guys.”

He drinks his shot, grunting at the burn. “What they want, anyways?”

“A paid afternoon,” you drink quickly. 

“Those sons of bitches. Glad I got here when I did, sounds like they weren’t too keen on leavin’ ya be.”

“Pretty sure you’re right. Nice outfit, by the way.”

He chuckles. ���Ah, it was time. Been makin’ enough money from all the huntin’ we been doin’ the last few days.”

“Well, I like it.”

You can’t tell if he’s blushing or not, but he hides his face with the tip of his hat. The two of you have a couple more drinks, then Arthur orders the both of you some lamb’s fry.

“Ya ain’t gotta buy my food, Arthur, I have enough for it myself.”

“I want to. S’too late now,” he smirks at you. God, he could be so stubborn.

You both take to a table and eat. You’re grateful to finally have a meal you don’t either have to cook yourself or that comes out of Pearson’s pot. 

The two of you finish and walk out of the saloon. You look to the hotel and see a sign offering baths. Your skin suddenly begins to itch, as though your entire body is hungry for some hot water.

“I’m going to go get myself cleaned up. Meet you at camp?”

“Ya sure ya don’t want me to wait for ya?”

“Arthur, you don’t have to if you don’t wanna. I ain’t makin’ you do nothin’.”

“S’a’right, I’ll wait. I was gonna go look at horses anyways.”

You glance to his paint hitched outside of the hotel. 

“What’s wrong with that one?”

Arthur looks at it as well. “Well, nothin’, but it just don’t feel right to be ridin’ a horse from Mrs. Adler’s home. I talked to her earlier, she said I could do whatever I want with it. Still, I might get a different one.”

You nod your head and go into the hotel, paying 25 cents for a bath. You head into the washroom and sink into the long tub, moaning audibly as the hot water laps at your skin. 

While your scrubbing your hair, a knock comes to the door. For a second, your stomach clenches at the thought of it maybe being Arthur, but then a woman’s voice rings through the door.

“Need someone to take over for you?” she asks. You breathe out heavily.

“Nah thanks, I’m doin’ okay.”

“No worries! Just doin’ my job.”

You quickly scrub the rest of your body and then sit a few moments, letting your skin soak up the water. You finally decide it’s time to get out and stand up, drying yourself off. You head out of the room and down the hall and see Arthur’s in the lobby, sitting down in a chair.

“What are you doin’?” you ask. “Thought you was lookin’ at horses?”

“I was, but they ain’t got anythin’ really worth lookin’ at right now. Stable master says he’s short on horses to buy for now.”

“Ya didn’t have to wait here for me, though.”

“Ya always this bossy, miss?”

For a second you stare hard at him, then the both of you start laughing as you leave the hotel. You mount your horses and head back to camp. 

When you get back, Hosea’s sitting on a rock holding a huge, scoped rifle. He calls Arthur over to him. You hitch Rain next to a massive black shire, who snorts almost angrily as you dismount your horse. You give him a wide berth, not wanting to be kicked. 

You head on over to Pearson and give him the things you didn’t sell, including a perfect elk pelt. Grimshaw heads over to you, huffing.

“Glad to see your back, Ms. Y/L/N, but I need you to go help the other girls.”

She leads you to the tented wagons where the others sit. You see the three girls gathered around the canvas that usually covers Hosea’s, Charles’s and Bill’s bedrolls, which seems to have split nearly all the way down the middle. It had rained hard last night, so you’re not surprised the water tore it. 

You pass Arthur and Hosea, standing near the black shire. Arthur mounts the tall horse.

“Ya really gonna ride that thing?” you ask him.

“Gonna give it a try, anyways.”

“Don’t worry,” Hosea calls. “He’s as sweet as a kitten as long as I’m around.”

You chuckle at the face Arthur makes, you can tell Hosea hasn’t given him any confidence. 

“You goin’ huntin’ again?” you ask as he pats the horse.

“Hosea says there’s a giant bear near some lake. We’re gonna try to get it.”

“Okay, be safe.”

The two men wave at you as they turn their horses and head down the trail, yelling at Lenny that they might be gone a few days.

It’s early the next morning, and you’re on guard duty. You were set on it last night just after sunset by Dutch. You wait patiently, yawning widely, for the next person to come and relieve you. You hear two horses approaching. Hosea comes up the trail on Silver Dollar, and behind him Arthur on a brand new horse. He stops the horse next to you.

She’s huge; an iron gray Ardennes war horse. She flicks her black tail. 

“What ya think?” Arthur asks, leaning down on the horn of his saddle.

“What happened to the shire?” 

“Ah, stable master was offerin’ a lot of money for that kind of horse, so I sold him. Someone had just brought this girl in, so I figured what the hell?”

You let her sniff your hand and then offer her a beet. You pat her head softly. “She have a name?”

“Artemis.” 

“Pretty.”

Just then, Charles comes towards you. “I’m here to take your spot.”

You nod appreciatively, offering him the repeater. Just as you’re about to go back into camp, Arthur calls your attention.

“Lemme give you a ride,” he offers you his hand. 

At first you think of saying no, but then you decide to take him up on his offer. You reach up, grasping his arm. He heaves you up easily as though you weigh nothing. You swing your leg over Artemis’ wide hind quarters, and Arthur pushes her into a steady trot. 

He hitches the grey horse to the post and dismounts, raising his arms up to help you off. Even though you don’t need it, you oblige. He sets you down easily, smiling at you. You thank him, then stifle another yawn.

“Think I’m gonna go get some rest,” you say. “I hate overnight guarding.”

“Sounds good. Lemme know if you need anything,” the outlaw says, heading over to Pearson’s wagon. 

Just as you’re passing Dutch’s large tent to go to your own, you see him sitting under the canvas canopy next to his tent. He snaps his book shut as he hears you approaching. 

“Ah, Ms. Y/L/N. Off guard duty, I see.”

“Yes, sir,” you say, stopping. 

He stands up and walks over to you.

“Seems like you’re pretty happy here with us. I must admit, I had my doubts about you back at Bison Point.”

He stops, you wonder if he’s waiting for you to talk.

“Yes, sir. I’m pretty happy here.”

“Good. Well, I think you’re debt to us has been settled. Pearson says you and Arthur bring in almost more food than everyone else combined.”

You smile at him. “You mean I could leave?”

He sighs heavily. “If that’s what you really wanted, as long as I know you’d never tell anyone about us.”

“Well, you don’t have to worry about that, sir. I don’t want to leave. I ain’t been this happy in years.”

He straightens up, smiling. “Well, good. It’s been nice havin’ you ‘round. I can tell Arthur appreciates your company.”

You hide your face with your hat, trying to hide the blush. “I’ve enjoyed his.”

“And Hosea. He likes you. Says you’re a good kid.”

“Well, I know a few people who’d disagree, ‘cept they’re all dead.”

Dutch chuckles deeply. “Well, I’m glad you’ve found a place among us, miss.”

He walks away, going back to his canopy and opening his book again. You head off to your tent, feeling happy and light. 

The next day, you’re standing next to Karen by her tent, enjoying a cup of coffee in the early morning. You spot Arthur strolling past, carrying a hay bale to the horses. He tips his hat towards the two of you when he sets it down and then approaches one of the wagons where Uncle can be seen sitting beside it, snoozing. 

“Ugh, I need to get out of this place,” Karen complains. “You been lucky Arthur’s takin’ ya out huntin’ so much. I swear, I hear that woman’s voice one more time…”

You smile and laugh, taking a sip of your coffee when you overhear Arthur and Uncle talking about heading into Valentine. Karen must hear, too, she starts to approach him. Mary-Beth and Tilly follow a step or two behind her. 

“Hey, if yer takin’ the old man into town, ya mind takin’ us, too?” she asks him as he lights a cigarette.

“Why? What you got goin’ on?”

“Nothin’.”

“We just need to get out,” says Mary-Beth. You finish your coffee and walk over to the small group. “Karen’s ‘bout ready to murder Grimshaw.”

Arthur huffs. “Can Ms. Grimshaw spare you?”

“Can Ms. Grimshaw spare you?” Karen mocks. “What’s happened to you, Arthur? Four, young healthy women wanna get out robbin’ and yer worried about domestic chores? Let’s go!”

“Ya got me,” he smiles. 

The others celebrate for a moment, climbing into the wagon, you following. You swear Arthur winks at you when he passes you. He climbs into the front with old Uncle and whips the horses. They begin moving down the trail, and Uncle suggests a song, to which the other girls start singing but you’ve never heard before, so you just listen.

As the trail approaches the train tracks, a stage coach drawn by two large horses speeds along it ahead of your wagon. You can tell the driver’s lost control. Sure enough, a moment later the horses break loose and dash off the trail. 

Arthur pulls the wagon to a stop and walks up to the man, who asks him if he’ll help and retrieve one of the horses. You smile fondly at him when he walks away, grabbing the spooked horse and guiding it back to the man.

“Thank you kindly, sir!” the man says. “You are a gentleman!” “Not really,” Arthur jokes. “I was just tryin’ to impress the women.”

Arthur gets back into the wagon and carries you on your way to Valentine. He drives it delicately down the main road and stops it outside the stable. 

“A’right, I need to go to the store,” Uncle says, climbing off the wagon. 

“Right. Me and the others will get to work,” Karen says, beckoning you and the other two to follow her. You’re not entirely sure what she means by get to work, so you catch up to her and ask.

“We just scope out the town, see who we can rob,” she says urgently, leading you to the saloon. “Either you can do it sneaky or you can do favors.”

You didn’t like the idea of doing favors, so instead you decide to see who you can potentially rob. When you were on your own during the past year, you’d occasionally rob people, but your targets back then were always lone men on the trails. Not in the middle of town. 

Karen and Tilly approach two men near the bar who seem to be drunk. Mary-Beth follows a girl who looks like she’s a maid out the doors. You spot, towards the back, the two men who had been harrassing you a couple of days ago. Jeremiah and George. You can tell by their stance and loud, carrying voices they’re drunk as they flirt and stumble around the saloon girls. You decide on an angle to work.

Approaching them, you put on a friendly face. George looks up and sees you through bloodshot eyes. “‘Ey, if it ain’t you! Ya come back to take us up on our offer?” He practically punches Jeremiah in the arm, guiding his attention to you. The other man turns and sees you.

“Well, well. Fancy an afternoon?” he laughs loudly. He’s looking a little green in the face. You can tell by the faces of the saloon girls they would rather be somewhere else.

“Listen, you two,” you say politely. “Why don’t you follow me outside to the back? Maybe we can get properly introduced?”

You wink, trying to suppress a shudder. The two men smile and stumble as they follow you out the back door of the saloon. You find the yard has a waist-high fence and a couple of chickens. No one else is around. Good. 

The two men trip over their feet a little as they step out onto the dirt. You turn and smile innocently at them.

“Well, little lady,” Jeremiah burps. “Ya ready to get things started right?”

You laugh a little, then you pull out your sawed-off shotgun and point it at them. 

“I doubt you two morons will remember this, but I think it’s time you learn that when a girl tells you no, she means no.”

The two men start to holler, but they’re so drunk you’re not worried about them attracting attention. They start trying to get away from you, but they end up tripping over each other. You swing your arm towards George’s face, slapping him with your gun, knocking him out. Jeremiah then promptly vomits over himself, falling down. You kick him in the head for good measure. You bend down and search their pockets quickly, being particularly careful with Jeremiah’s clothes.

You pull out several dollars and a hand-written note. Unfortunately, you can’t read it, so you stuff it into your pocket along with the money, then dash off to the main road. 

You look around and see Arthur and Uncle sitting outside the store, waiting for you and the others. You approach the two; Arthur greets you warmly as you sit next to him. He hands you a journal.

“Here, this is for you,” he says. Your chest warms at the idea of him getting you something.

“What’s this?”

“Journal. For ya to practice yer writin’ in. Figured ya could use it.”

You caress the dark, stamped leather of the cover. A pencil, slipped in a tight leather strip, keeps the journal’s flap closed. You slide it out and flick through the thick pages. 

“Thank you, Arthur,” you say warmly. He nods to you. 

A distraction comes in the form of Mary-Beth dashing up the steps. “Fellers, I just got a tip about a job. Posed as a maid in this big fancy house, usually works. Anyways, these two men were talkin’ about a train going to Saint Denis at night! Could be promisin’!”

“Yeah, them Saint Denise trains are usually full of rich people and things they don’t need,” Uncle nods. 

“Sounds good,” Arthur says. “Where’s the others?”

“Karen’s got some drunk man she’s gonna rob, so’s Tilly I think. Oh, there’s Tilly there!” she points across the road. Tilly’s being handled rather roughly by a large, dark man in between the hotel and the bank. “That does not look ideal.”

“‘Scuse me, ladies,” Arthur says, going after her. You stay with Uncle and Mary-Beth, watching him. He must have smoothed things over since he brings out Tilly after a moment. He hollers at Uncle to watch over her while he goes inside to fetch Karen. A few moments later, he comes out after Karen, who has a big cut on her lip. Turns out the guy she was trying to rob turned out to be a violent, drunken bastard who enjoyed hitting women. 

“He only punched me,” she says, rubbing her lip. “But Arthur hit him a lot harder.”

“Well, glad you’re okay,” you say.

“Hey, is it just me or is that man starin’ at us?” Mary-Beth says, pointing to a well-dressed man on his horse near the butcher. He sees the lot of you staring at him, and he points to Arthur.

“Ain’t you from Blackwater?” “No, sir. Not from there.”

“Oh you were! I seen your face!”

Arthur sighs heavily and starts walking over to him. “I ain’t never been to Blackwater. Look, mister, come over here.”

The man panics and spurs his horse into a gallop, running off down the road. Arthur hops onto a nearby Standardbred and dashes off after him.

“Always runnin’ around, that man,” Uncle says, heading back to the wagon. He and the girls get into it, you follow them. Uncle is just about to whip the horses to get them moving when you stop him.

“We ought to wait for Arthur, don’t you think?” “The man can walk, can’t he?”

You give Uncle a look. “He’ll only be a minute.”

“Fine, better be a fast one though.”

“Don’t know why yer complainin’, old man,” Karen says, still nursing her swollen lip. “Gives you a chance to snooze some more, don’t it? I thought driving horses upset your lumbago.”

“Oh, very funny,” he says, leaning back and crossing his arms as you and the others laugh. 

After several moments, Arthur returns, giving the horse back to its owner, thanking him. He climbs back onto the wagon, grabbing the reins.

“That guy dead?” Karen asks.

“Nah, didn’t need to kill him. He knows now to forget our faces. I doubt he’ll give us any problems. Feller tried to kill himself on a cliff. Damn idiot.”

Arthur drives you back to camp. He hops out of the wagon and heads over to Dutch. You pull out the money you stole and the note. You look around, seeing if you can find anyone who can read it. You spot John near the donation box by Dutch’s tent. You approach him.

“Hey John, can you read?”

He turns his face to you. His bandage has been taken off, revealing the stitches across his cheek, nose and lip. The wounds look red and angry still. 

“Sure,” he says in his raspy voice. You hand him the note. “Says here that some rancher is movin’ some sheep to auction in Valentine later this month. Where’d you find this?”

“Stole it off some idjits in town.”

“Hmm. Might be a good score. I’ll look into it; see what I can find out. If it seems promisin’, you should come with since you found it.”

“Sound good! Lemme know.”

It’s been a few days since you last left camp, and you’re beginning to get stir crazy and bored. You’re wiping down the round table by Dutch’s tent one afternoon when Arthur trots in on Artemis with an unconscious Swanson draped over the back of his horse. Arthur slides him off and onto his shoulder, carrying him over to his own tent by the main campfire. You and Grimshaw approach him.

“Again, Reverend Swanson?” she asks him as he rolls over, asleep. “What he do this time?”

“Nothin’ good. He was lucky, this time, real lucky.”

You step towards Arthur, curious about what had happened, as he walks away from the fire.

“What did he do?” you ask.

“Ah, he got himself stuck on a bridge right before a train came along. Would’ve been run over if I hadn’t been there. Damn fool; wish he’d stop with that morphine of his. Ain’t doin’ him or anyone else any good.”

You stare off at the incoherent Reverend in his tent sadly, Grimshaw sits beside him as she watches over him. Arthur heads over to Pearson and you follow.

“When you plannin’ on goin’ hunting again?” you ask. 

“Why?”

“You know why, Arthur. I need to get out of here, I’m going crazy.”

He smiles at you. “Well, let me talk to Dutch real quick, then maybe you and I can head out.”

You’re surprised he’s willing to leave so late in the day since the sun is already beginning to set. 

“A’right, let me know when you’re ready to go,” you say, heading off to your own tent to start packing up a few things. He heads over to Dutch, sitting inside his tent reading a book. You hear them talking, but then your attention is caught by Lenny shouting for Dutch and Arthur. You haven’t seen the boy since leaving Colter, when Dutch sent him and Micah out scouting. You look into the trees behind Lenny, but see no sign of the other man.

“They got Micah in Strawberry!” Lenny shouts, breathing hard. “They nearly lynched me, too, but I got away just in time.”

“Calm down, son,” Dutch says. “Now tell us what happened?”

Lenny bends down, placing his hands on his knees. When he’s caught his breath, he straightens up and explains how he and Micah were in Strawberry, and Micah had a few too many drinks and ended up shooting someone, getting himself arrested. 

Dutch pats him on the shoulder. “A’right, son, relax. We’ll deal with this. Arthur, take Lenny into town, get him drunk then head into Strawberry and get Micah out.”

Arthur tries to argue, but Dutch shuts him down. “A’right, fine. Just can’t do everything right now.” He sees you and beckons you over. “Sorry, Y/N, I gotta take care of the kid. Ya mind if we head out in the mornin’?”

“Of course not, Arthur. Go with Lenny.”

He tips his hat to you and leaves. You turn back into camp, wondering what to do now since the daily chores are done. You’re just about to grab a plate of stew when you bump into Strauss. 

“Careful there, Y/N,” he saws, dropping the envelopes in his hand.

“Sorry, Herr Strauss,” you start picking them up for him. You can see they’re from the post office. One of them is addressed to Arthur; you’ve been practicing enough reading to be able to recognize his name. 

“Here, let me put this in his tent,” you offer. He lets you take the letter and goes off with the others.

Walking into Arthur’s tent, you place the letter on his table next to the picture of his mother. You see the other photo on the ammo crates by his bed, which shows another woman. You get closer to it, trying to see if there’s any familial similarities to Arthur, but you don’t see any. You wonder who she is, and why Arthur has a picture of her. 

You wake up the next morning, feeling tired and achy. You probably had one too many beers last night with Uncle and John around the campfire. You get out, shading your eyes from the sun before putting your hat back on. Arthur isn’t in his tent or anywhere else in camp; neither is Lenny. Just as you’re pouring yourself a cup of coffee, Arthur and Lenny both ride in, looking horrible. You try not to smile.

“Had a fun night, did ya?” you ask them. Lenny groans loudly.

“Don’t know if I would really call it fun,” he says, dismounting his horse on uneasy legs. Arthur hops off of his.

“Well, at least it got yer mind off goddamn Micah.”

He approaches you and you offer him your cup of coffee, bending down to pour another one. He thanks you before taking a sip.

“How many drinks you fellers have last night anyways?” you ask.

“Too many.”

You laugh. “Well, ya got a letter from someone. I put it on your table.”

“A letter? From who?”

“Don’t know. Anyways, let me know when you’re ready to go. Take as much time as you need. I don’t want you pukin’ over Artemis if you’re still drunk.”

He guffaws. “Don’t worry ‘bout that, think I’m just about fine. Let me go read this letter, then we’ll go.”

He heads off to his tent. You go and grab your satchel and bedroll, heading over to Rain and strapping them onto her saddle when Arthur rushes over to Artemis. He barely glances at you as he mounts. 

“Change of plans, Y/N,” he says quickly. “I gotta go take care of somethin’ personal.”

Without another word, he dashes off down the trail and out of the trees towards Valentine. You wonder what was in the letter that could make him rush off so quickly. You go back to his tent and see the letter still lying there, spread open. You pick it up and read what you can from it. From what words you can make out, you gather that it’s from a woman, asking him to help her. You see her signature on the bottom, but it’s so fancy you can’t read the name. 

Not wanting to look like you’re burying your nose into Arthur’s business, you decide not to ask one of the girls to read it to you. You approach Mary-Beth and Tilly, cleaning some clothes by their tented wagons. 

“Arthur was sure in a hurry,” Mary-Beth says as you take a seat, grabbing a needle and thread. “Thought he was takin’ you out?”

“Thought so too. But he got a letter from someone, a girl I think. Said he had to go take care of personal business.”

“I bet it’s from that Mary,” Tilly says, aggressively scrubbing one of Bill’s shirts. “If ya ask me, she ain’t worth it. Don’t know why he goes runnin’ off to her the moment she even mentions his name.”

“Mary? Who is she?”

Mary-Beth and Tilly look at each other, almost as though they’re debating on telling you. Mary-Beth leans towards you with a soft expression; she almost looks sad.

“Look, Y/N, I know you’re sweet on Arthur, but maybe ya ought to let it go.”

You feel yourself blush. “I ain’t sweet on Arthur.”

“Please,” Karen says as she walks up to you, holding a repeater. She must be about ready to go on guard duty. “We all see the way you look at him when he comes into camp.”

“Yeah, that and the way you blush when he offers to take you places,” Tilly chimes in.

“Ladies, we’re just friends!”

“Nah, to us Arthur is just a friend. But you don’t see him offerin’ to take us hunting,” Karen says. “And you don’t see us trippin’ all over ourselves whenever he’s around.”

Mary-Beth giggles. “It’s really cute, actually. But, Y/N, Mary’s a part of his past he ain’t willin’ to let go of. We keep hopin’, she ain’t good for him, but as you saw he goes gallivantin’ off to her on just a whim.”

“What happened between them?” you ask again.

Mary-Beth, Tilly and Karen fill you in on the story of Arthur and Mary. They don’t know the full story themselves since it was before they had joined the gang, but they had heard enough from Hosea and Grimshaw. They had been lovers when Arthur was fairly young, around the age of twenty. However, Mary came from a decent family and her father intensely disliked Arthur because of his way of life. In the end, Mary chose her family over Arthur and married another man. 

“I can understand why she didn’t choose Arthur,” Karen said. “This life ain’t for everyone. But it’s the way she uses him still. Whenever she needs someone to do a job that’s too rough or dirty for her, she calls him and he goes. Every time.”

“He still loves her,” Mary-Beth says sadly. “That’s why he keeps goin’. And every time he comes back from doin’ her jobs, he’s always so sad and sayin’ that she won’t have him since he won’t change.”

“I never liked her,” Tilly adds in. “I saw her once when I was out on a job with Arthur. We were tryin’ to rob someone and she showed up. I swear she insulted him at least three times in ten minutes, then layered them by sayin’ she still loved him. She’s got him wrapped around her finger tight.”

You feel the pain of their words inside of you. It must show on your face, Mary-Beth leans forward and puts a hand on your knee. “I’m real sorry, Y/N. Arthur’s a good man, he deserves someone like you.”

“Nah, he don’t,” you say, hanging your head. “I let go of the fantasy of ever having a happy life a long time ago. Arthur fits into that. Besides, no man in their right mind would ever want to be with me.”

The others go silent for a moment. Then Tilly speaks up again.

“We’ve all tried to tell him she ain’t worth the trouble; he’s better off without her. He always says he understands, but I don’t think he ever hears us. Maybe you should talk to him. He might listen to you.”

You shrug your shoulders, doubtful. 

Grimshaw suddenly tramples her way over to your group, screaming. “Now ain’t the time for gossip, you four! Get back to work! Karen, you were supposed to take over for Bill ten minutes ago!”

You, Mary-Beth and Tilly fall silent, returning to your tasks. Karen starts walking towards the trees, but not before pointing the repeater and pretending to shoot Grimshaw in the back as she walks away. 

It’s early afternoon by the time Arthur returns. By then, your emotions have completely spiraled out of control. While feeling heartbroken by what the others told you, you also feel anger. Anger at Mary, the way she uses him. Angry at Arthur for letting her. Angry at yourself for feeling this way. He approaches you at Pearson’s wagon.

“Sorry for that, Y/N,” he says warmly. “You still wanna go huntin’?”

“Can’t,” you say coldly. Arthur looks at you, confused at your snap. You’ve never been short with him.

“Grimshaw needs me,” you add, trying not to let your emotions show. You know you really shouldn’t be angry with him since it truly isn’t your business, but you can’t help feeling like he’s betrayed you somehow. “Sorry.”

He takes a step back, his smile sliding off his face. “That’s a’right. Well, I do need to go huntin’, Pearson’s gettin’ low again. You and I should go in a few days though, ya deserve a break.”

Arthur leaves and goes to Artemis. You turn back to your pile of carrots, feeling stupid. Why do you even care so much? From what it sounds like, Mary only calls him on occasion. It’s not like she’s around camp, distracting him constantly. Still, you know Mary-Beth and Tilly are right. You’ve grown feelings for the outlaw, something you’ve tried bitterly to prevent. If your past had taught you anything, it was that you are not designed to be with someone who could love you because there is no one who could love you. Besides, you doubt that he feels anything towards you. Most likely, he just sees you as a friend, nothing more. 

You cut the carrots, trying to ignore the stinging of your eyes, betraying your tears. You take your feelings out on the vegetables, cutting them up far more than usual. 

The sun is beginning to set when Arthur returns with a deer and two turkeys, turning them over to Pearson. You’ve been nursing a bottle of whisky the last half hour, getting steadily more tipsy. He approaches you where you sit by the campfire with Hosea and Uncle, who’s singing a song you’re quietly humming to.

“Ain’t seen you drink that much since that time in Bison Point when you fell off your horse and thought you broke your ankle,” Arthur chuckles at you. You stare up at him.

“Yeah, well, I didn’t break my ankle then and it ain’t broken now,” you say sharply. He sits down next to you. You offer him the bottle and he takes it.

“What’s goin’ on with you?” he asks quietly so the others won’t hear.

“What you mean?”

“I mean you ain’t been actin’ like yerself ever since this mornin’. Is it because I had to take care of that thing? Look, I’ll make it up to ya. We can go huntin’ whenever you want.”

For some reason, your temper gets the better of you. You’ve forgotten that alcohol always makes it harder to control and hide your emotions.

“I need to talk to you. Alone,” you say, standing up.

Arthur stands up, setting the bottle of whisky down. You lead him off into the trees, past a broken wagon and down the hill, towards the river. You take him to the bottom, right before the trees stop and the main trail winds its way along the river. You lean against a large boulder and turn to him finally.

“I know about Mary,” you finally say, the alcohol fueling the fire in your chest.

Arthur looks at you, his face is hard.

“What about Mary?”

“Arthur, look, it ain’t really none of my business but the other girls told me about her. She.. doesn’t sound like she’s a good person, and I just don’t want…”

Arthur cuts you off. “You’re right, it ain’t none of yer business, so why you talkin’ ‘bout her?”

“I’m just trying to help,” you shoot back. “Sounds like she just likes havin’ you around to do stuff for her.”

“There’s nothin’ for you to help with, Y/N,” he growls. “She’s a part of my past ya know nothin’ about.”

“I know, Arthur. But please, listen to me. I know you love her, and I know she loved you once. At least, that’s what the others told me. But answer me honestly. Do you really think she still loves you?” Arthur sighs heavily, you can tell he’s getting angry. You’ve seen it before, like a fast-approaching storm, but it’s never been directed at you. “Like I said, it ain’t none of yer business what goes on between me and Mary.”

“Arthur, please just listen to me. If she truly loves you, would she treat you this way?”

“I was helpin’ her with her brother! It weren’t like she was usin’ me!”

“Why did she need your help with her brother? She ask you to shoot someone? Beat someone up?”

Arthur’s face darkens. “He got himself stuck with those damn Chelonian fools. It didn’t require me to hurt no one! Is that what you think she does? Asks me to go kill people for her?” he takes a step towards you, looming over you. You take a step back, feeling nervous. 

“No, that’s not what I meant. But this is what I been tryin’ to say, Arthur. She knows that no matter what kind of life you live, no matter what choices you make, you are a good man and you’ll always help her. I just don’t want you to waste your life on someone who doesn’t deserve you!”

“And who would you rather me waste my life on? You?”

You feel like he just punched you in the chest. He must know somehow about your feelings. Did one of the other girls tell him? You stand up straight, glaring at him.

“I never said I deserved to be with you, Arthur. For God’s sake, don’t! I already know I’m gonna die alone, but you don’t have to share that fate.”

The two of you stare angrily at each other for a moment. You blink away the angry tears in your eyes. “I promise you though, Arthur, you will die alone just like me if you keep chasin’ after her. If she decided not to be with you then, why would she change her mind now?”

Arthur’s hand flies up, and you flinch, expecting the hit. Instead, he takes his hat off and rakes his fingers through his hair in frustration. He stares at you, confused, as you stand hunched over with your hands raised above your head. Recognition dawns on his face, and he lowers his hand slowly.

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” he says quietly. “Ya know I’d never…”

“I know, I know,” you mumble, lowering your hands and slowly straightening up. You feel ashamed of how you reacted, even if it was involuntary. The two of you stand awkwardly. Arthur takes several steps back. You can tell he’s still angry. 

“Arthur, look, I’m sorry. For everything. I’m just tryin’ to look out for you,” you almost whisper.

He looks away from you and rests his eyes on a bush. “I don’t need you to look out for me, Y/N. I can take care of myself. Besides, it ain’t none of yer business.”

He turns and stalks away from you and back up the hill. When he’s gone, you feel the tears slide down your hot cheek. You sink down to the ground and let them run. This was not how you planned this conversation to go. In fact, it went as bad as it possibly could have. Not only have you hurt him, your best friend, but now he knows you have feelings for him. 

Feeling betrayed, angry, and confused, you rip out clumps of grass, tearing them apart in your hands. Through your tears, you watch the full moon glide across the sky, reflecting in the steady river. Hours pass, and you can’t find the strength or the courage to stand up and return to camp. You doubt you’ll ever be able to look Arthur in the face again, let alone speak to him. Why couldn’t you just accept the fact that he won’t ever feel for you the way you feel for him? Why couldn’t you take that he was always going to choose her over you? Why couldn’t you just accept that you’re always going to be alone? Hell, it had been easy enough before he found you.

The sky begins to lighten, and you’re still sat by the boulder where Arthur left you. You wipe the long-dried trails of tears from your face and rub your tired eyes. You tell yourself to grow up, to stop acting like a child, and pick yourself up off the ground. You march up the hill. The walk back to camp seems a lot longer than it did last night. Maybe you’re just dreading facing reality. 

You walk into the silent camp. Hardly anyone is stirring yet, most of them are still asleep. The exception is Swanson, sitting on the ground near the campfire, but it’s clear he’s been dipping into his supply of morphine again. You drag your eyes to Arthur’s tent, afraid of what you might see. To your relief, his cot is empty, and upon further inspection of the camp, you find that Artemis is gone. He’s obviously left. Probably back to Mary. You can’t say you blame him. You force yourself to walk over to your tent, practically falling down onto your bedroll and into sleep.

A few hours go by, and you’re awakened by Grimshaw’s yelling. 

“Of course, yer lazin’ about!” she squawks at you, thumping on the canvas above your head. You tiredly crawl out of the tent and she grabs you by the ear. 

“Get over there and do your work!” she tosses you over to the washbin by Tilly’s tent and you obediently get on your knees and start scrubbing some clothes. She marches away to the other side of camp.

After you massage your ear, you look around the camp with sore eyes. It’s early afternoon. Arthur’s horse, Artemis, is still missing, for which you are grateful. Mary-Beth approaches you.

“You a’right? Ya look awful?”

You smile sadly. “I’m fine, Mary-Beth.”

She pauses. “I guess things didn’t go well with Arthur last night.”

You look up at her. “You couldn’t hear us, could you? I didn’t think we were being very loud.”

“No, but I saw the two of you leave. Then he came back by himself. I ain’t seen him look that way in a long time. Then he got on his horse and left. Ain’t seen him since.”

You drop your eyes back to the soapy water before you. “What did he look like?”

“Hard to say, really,” she says after sighing and sitting down on a crate. “Like he was heartbroken, honestly, but angry too. He didn’t say nothing to anyone either before he left.” 

“Well, you’re right in thinking things didn’t go well. God, I’m such a fool. I really thought I might have a chance with him if he wasn’t involved with her. Guess that Mary’s right about one thing. He’ll never change. Besides, he’s right to stay away from me.”

Mary-Beth is silent for several moments. “Why… why’d you kill your family?”

You stop, taken aback by the question. The last thing you want to talk about is your past. “I just… had to. I needed to get away from them and the only way I could was to kill ‘em.”

You go back to scrubbing the clothes, raking them across the washboard. 

“Your husband, was he a good man? If you don’t mind my askin’,” she asks softly.

“No. I’d never met him before my dad told me I was engaged to him. He hated me, though, I know he did. And I hated him.”

“That’s awful. I can’t imagine bein’ engaged to someone I’d never met.”

“Yeah, it was. I tried to learn to love him, but he made that impossible. It taught me one thing though. True love doesn’t exist. It’s just something from fairy tales.”

“I never really saw it that way,” she says, looking off across camp. “I’ve read so many books that I can’t not believe it exists. How could so many different people only believe in such a beautiful thing without having felt it?”

“Guess I never really thought of it that way. Well, if it is real, it surely wants nothin’ to do with me.”

The two of you sit in silence before Mary-Beth offers to read to you from one of her books. You accept her offer, glad for the distraction from your own dark thoughts. 

Grimshaw sets you on night duty, under the impression that you had slept the previous night and simply overslept this morning. You stand there, near the trail, your thoughts circling around one another when you hear a horse coming in. You grab the repeater tighter in your hands. Arthur comes up the trail on Artemis, several pelts on her back. You avert your eyes from him, and he passes you in silence. You wish you could say something to him, apologize maybe, but you doubt he’d want to listen to anything you have to say.

Several moments after he passes, you head up to camp for a drink. You go to Pearson’s wagon and grab a bottle, drinking from it greedily. Arthur isn’t anywhere to be seen, but you can hear him talking to Dutch. From what it sounds like, he’s going to be near camp for the next few days. You don’t know if you’re ready to face him yet. You come to a decision.

After a few hours, when you’re sure most of the camp and most importantly Arthur are asleep, you return to the clearing. Javier and Uncle are the only ones awake, sitting by the main camp fire. You find Arthur fast asleep in his cot, his journal lying on his chest. You quietly pass him and go to the other side of the wagon that forms his tent and look at the map that is stuck to the side. It shows New Austin, West Elizabeth, Ambarino, New Hanover and a state you’ve never been to called Lemoyne. You look over it and focus on New Hanover, trying to find hunting grounds you’ve never been to. You focus on an area called Roanoke Ridge up near a town called Annesburg. Deciding on that, you turn away from the wagon again, heading back down to the trees to return to guard duty. A familiar voice calls you.

“What you doin’, Y/N?” It’s Arthur. You turn and look back at him. He’s sitting up in his cot. You’re soft footsteps must have woken him, you’ve forgotten how light of a sleeper he is. 

“Nothing, Mr. Morgan. I’m sorry,” you say, hoping he’ll find more in that apology than simply waking him. “I didn’t mean to wake you. I was just… looking for something.”

He says nothing but continues to stare at you, his face hard. You turn away and leave, hoping he won’t come after you. You enter the trees and sigh hard, feeling like you just escaped. You’re not exactly sure what you just escaped from, though. You suddenly wonder if, instead of going hunting, you should just leave entirely. The thought pains you; you’ve gotten so close to many of the others. This gang is the closest thing you’ve ever known to a proper family. However, it might not be possible to stay with Arthur around. He’s such a vital part to the gang. You shake your head, trying to rid these thoughts, and decide that for now you’ll just go hunting near this Roanoke Ridge. You’ll worry about potentially abandoning the camp later when you return.

When Lenny comes to relieve you in the morning, to say you’re exhausted is an understatement. You’ve had hardly any sleep in the last 2 days. You think about delaying your hunting trip for a few hours and sleeping, but you know Grimshaw won’t let that happen. She’s already up and looking like she’s about to go rage at Karen and Tilly. You tiredly roll up your bedroll, but decide to leave your tent here. You’ve spent plenty of nights open to the stars; even been rained on a few times. Besides, you’ll only be gone a couple of days. Long enough to clear your head hopefully. 

You strap your things to Rain’s saddle, and then turn back to the camp. You see Hosea sitting up in his bedroll, preparing to start his day. You approach him.

“Hosea, how are you?” “Very good, Y/N,” he says, standing up. “How are things between you and Arthur?”

Jesus, does everyone know that you two fought? You sigh heavily.

“Not the best. Look, I’m gonna head out for a few days, do some huntin’. You mind if I take one of Jack’s books?”

He stares at you sadly, then nods. “I understand, Y/N. I’ll tell Dutch you’re out followin’ a lead.”

“Thank you,” you say as he hands you another Otis Miller book. You turn away and mount Rain, staring back at the camp one last time before trotting down the trail and into the open air. 

You head into Valentine to pick up a few things. You go into the store and buy some cans of food, coffee, and a small map. You study it briefly, figuring out which trails to follow to get to Roanoke Ridge. You approach the clerk. 

“Excuse me, but can you read what that says?” you point to the north eastern corner of New Hanover. He glances at it.

“Sure, says Roanoke Ridge. You got family up near Annesburg or somethin’?”

“Or something,” you say, putting the map into your satchel.

“Apologies, miss. Didn’t mean to pry.”

You thank him and leave the store. You head over to the hotel and give the desk clerk a dollar for a room, figuring you need to get some rest before heading on your way.

By late afternoon, you’re as rested as you’re going to get. You quickly brush Rain and feed her a few cubes of hay and some apples. You pat her affectionately, she muzzles her nose into your hand. You mount her and canter out of town; someone yells behind you to slow down. You ignore them, following the muddy road away from Valentine. 

You travel up through the Cumberland Forest and into the Grizzlies East in Ambarino. Late into the night, you stop by a lake that the map says is O’Creagh’s Run, although you struggle to read the words. A single cabin sits on the north eastern side of the lake. You make camp on the other side of it. You quickly make a fire and roast a rabbit you had caught not too long ago, staring at the cabin on the opposite shore from you. Smoke spirals from the chimney stack of the cabin; a candle’s light illuminates the window in the front. A single, large white horse stands in a stall beside the cabin. You wonder who lives there and what they do. Not that you’re going to go introduce yourself by any means. 

You eat quickly and then settle down in your bedroll, staring at the stars above, letting them wink you to sleep.

Rain drops splash on your face in the morning. It isn’t raining hard, but it’s enough to wake you. You roll up your things and then kick dirt over the fire, which is just a pile of hot, sizzling coals at this point. You make sure the few pelts you gathered on your way here yesterday are still situated before mounting Rain and kicking her into a gallop around the lake. 

You’ve never been to country like this before. The mountains are grey and green, arching into tall mounds above your head. Among the thick trees and tall grasses, wild flowers of every color bloom. Eventually the trees thin into open grasslands, but the mountains rise higher. At least the sky is clear now and the rain has stopped, giving way to warm sunshine.  

By midday, you’re back into a thick forest, but it isn’t like the ones you left behind in West Elizabeth or by Valentine. It isn’t made of the elegant pine trees you’re familiar with, but tall oaks. The mountains you ride upon are no longer smooth, but broken up and craggly. There are so many cliffs and ledges you have to slow Rain down into an easy canter for fear of falling. 

You reach Roanoke Valley and see the roaring river in the bottom of a steep ravine. You stop Rain and pull out your map, examining it. You struggle to properly read a location called the Elysian Pool close to a place named Butcher’s Creek. You find the easiest trails to follow to get there and send Rain on her way again. 

After nearly an hour of travelling, the trail points down towards the Kamassa River, which you know means you’re close to the Elysian Pool. The trail turns south along the river. Something feels wrong, like you’re being watched. You look all around you, but the trees are so thick and dense it’s impossible to make anything out. The birds above you continue to sing, so there can’t be a predator like a cougar around. You pull Rain to a walk, checking the forest.

A doe bolts from a bush close to you, spooking both you and your horse as she darts up the steep hill. You sigh heavily, figuring that’s what had made you nervous. You kick Rain, sending her after the doe to try and hunt it. She bounds up the hill, dodging through the trees.

Just as you peak over the hill, you hear yelling and hollering. Then gunshots, and Rain squeals loudly. You’ve never heard her make that sound before, but you know instantly it’s bad. She starts turning in circles, your upper body swings over her neck and that’s when you see the blood streaming from her chest. 

“NO!” you scream as another gunshot rings out, slamming into her neck. Her legs begin to buckle beneath her, tossing you onto the hard ground. You launch to your feet, pulling out your sawed-off shotgun and pointing it. Around you are four men, dirty and wild. Most of them are barely dressed, wearing nothing but pants or overalls. They point their own rifles at you, laughing maniacally through mouths missing multiple teeth. 

“Well, lookee here, boys!” one of them hollers. “We got us a live ‘un! I think we’ll like ‘er just fine!”

“Let’s take ‘er back, let her stew a few days,” another one says. 

The man closest to Rain approaches your dying horse. She’s still snorting, although she’s getting quieter. Blood seeps into the ground beneath her, her breathing looks labored. 

“Get away from her!” you scream, pointing your gun to him. You hear one of the others run up behind you, but you’re not quick enough. He slams the butt of his gun into the back of your head, knocking you to the ground. You have just enough time to see the man near Rain place the barrel of his gun against her head and pull the trigger before the world around you turns black.

[rarestereocats]

We spend the last days of our travel resting and healing after the ghost attack.  Amelia has strange dreams of cauldrons and poisoned apples that kill her,  so she takes this as a sign that it's time to lean into her hag heritage.  She comes to my room to swipe Nathan's cauldron for the day,  failing to move it anywhere and spilling the contents of his latest experiment all over herself and the floor.  Being that it's a white,  sticky substance;  of course she finds a way to make this weird and I scold her for even thinking Nathan would keep an entire cauldron's worth of...you know what.  A few hours later,  while she's in the middle of testing some poisons,  Nathan comes back to the room and is immediately upset when he finds out his cauldron's gone.

Turns out his alleged collection of semen that Amelia thought he had is actually a new siege weapon he's working on.  It's highly explosive,  so he goes to scold Amelia while I furiously scrub the floor before I have to pay for any more damage to the ship.  In a surprise twist,  Nathan and Amelia bond as she admits that she's starting to believe what I've said about her being a hag's daughter.  But in her true fashion,  she makes him promise not to tell anyone a damn thing or she'll make him eat her poisoned grapes.  We finally reach the first elven port city,  Ianthus,  and the navy ships we intended to destroy haven't arrived.  Our original plan was to sabotage the structures of the ship,  make the damage seem natural enough that it didn't arouse suspicion.  But with Amelia learning how to concoct poisons,  she offers to poison enough food to leave the crew of these ships out of commission.

Before we can even agree to a solid plan,  Amelia runs off to start making massive batches of poison;  stating that Nathan's going to help her.  Nathan,  who was absolutely not aware of this plan,  now has to flag her down and make sure she isn't going to kill herself in the poison making process.  I seek out Noah and this time,  it's not to harass him.  I hand over the Sea Scoundrel journal I pilfered awhile back and task him with reading through it to find anything of importance.  And also figure out why we were attacked by ghosts and the measures we'll have to take to prevent it from happening again.  Ships coming into the elven nation are to be thoroughly inspected,  so in order to keep suspicions low about the makeup of our crew and gear;  we say we're a traveling circus that enlisted the help of mercenaries.  We go as far as putting on a small show for the inspectors,  Amelia being our gracious ringleader.  We manage to pull this off,  which isn't surprising considering we're a bunch of freakshows to begin with;  and we're given the okay to enter the city.

We check out the bank first,  learning that the navy ships aren't due to arrive for eleven days.  With so much time to kill,  we all break out into petty arguing in the streets and nearly kill each other.  Needing time to cool off,  we all part ways for the day.  TT pokes around for black market contacts,  managing to get in touch with a strange,  elven shopkeeper who has a delicate mission for us.  Assassination.  The target is a baron by the name of Elron Gimmley.  The pay is 50k,  but an extra 10k if we manage to make his death look like an accident.  She's given a map that leads to his plantation and a description of Elron himself.  I go off to have a blood-filled charm inspected by a jeweler.  Said jeweler attempts to rip me off,  stating it's little more than a spell component,  but the look of excitement in his eyes gives him away.  After threats of violence,  I have my jeweled egg back and find my way to the same oddities owner that TT just visited and he tells me all about my treasure.

It's a magic item that houses the blood of a sorcerer.  Depending on the bloodline contained inside,  it's worth anywhere between 10 and 15k.  Luckily for me,  it turns out to be incredibly valuable as it houses the blood of a sorcerer with ties to the undead.  Amelia also finds work for us.  An old woman needs a team to go spelunking in order to find her lost treasures.  There's 15k in it for us if we decide to do it,  but once we meet back up to go over everything,  we're all more interested in the assassination.  Given that we spent most of our ship funds on upgrades,  our crew is a little broke and in desperate need of that gold.

[niall-is-my-dream]

You & Me - Part Nineteen

Thanks to @for-fucks-sake-h for being an amazing beta and to @niall-talk for her advice.

catch up on previous parts below

https://niall-is-my-dream.tumblr.com/post/182679258488/you-me-masterlist

2550 words

Callie's POV

Coming to the end of tour had been sad. Once the Jingle Bell balls were over to, you'd all headed back to the UK to spend the holidays with your families. You had got two months off before rehearsals for the world tour began towards the end of February.

You dumped your stuff at your flat, before packing up a new bag and going straight over to Niall's. That is where you had stayed tucked up in his bed with him for the last twelve hours, trying to shift the jet lag.

His warm naked body was cosy and you were determined not move for at least two days. Niall had wrapped himself around you, feet tangled together beneath the quilt. You were thoroughly enjoying the gentle half asleep kisses he was placing on your neck, the warmth of his breath giving you goosebumps on your body. A low hum of contentment coming from you both.

That daydream was broken by Bex bursting into his room.

"Holy fucking shit kids! Our prayers have been answered!" She screamed out.

"Fuck!" You said sitting up, the cover pooling at your waist.

"Nice tits!" She laughed.

"Crap!" You said covering yourself up.

Niall had sat up to, but had refrained from unnecessarily exposing himself to Bex.

"What the fuck are you doing Bex?! Don't you understand jet lag?!" He said, running his hand over his face but smiling.

"Told her to tell you guys later." Willie said, appearing behind Bex.

"Tell us what? That she's a crazy person who wakes up jet lagged naked people?!" Niall said.

"Told her you'd most likely be naked!" He laughed.

"I came to show you this." She said handing Niall her phone.

                                                        ********

Victoria Secret Model Saskia Jones, moves on from singer Niall Horan with TV presenter Jasper Littlewood.

Victoria Secret Model Saskia Jones 22, and well know TV presenter Jasper Littlewood 25, were seen all over each other at a bar in West Hollywood last night, settling the rumours of her breakup with singer Niall Horan, 24.

"They were all over each other, kissing and whispering all night. They didn't seem to care who saw."

The news comes after it was confirmed that Saskia and Niall Horan had parted ways a few months ago after eight months of dating. The pair were first pictured leaving an L.A. restaurant in January but haven't been spotted together since his first solo tour date in Dublin in August.

Niall has since been pictured with his guitar technician Callie Brown, the pair seeming to confirm their romance via Instagram recently. Callie has appeared numerous times on the social media of the former One Direction star.

Jasper Littlewood, who is part of the presenting team on E news, apparently slid into Saskia's dm's when he found out she was single again. According to a source close to Saskia, she had become tired of Niall's failure to commit to her and ended things with him a few months ago.

                                                 ******************

You didn't bother to read anymore.

"Wow, she fails to tell the story of stalking and harassing you!" You said.

"Not sure who the 'source' could be but it's bound to be someone close to her. Something done discreetly so we can't take any legal action against them. The legal documents said she wasn't allowed to discuss anything about us in the press, but that doesn't mean one of her friends didn't say something." He replied.

"Doesn't matter what the article says mate." Willie added. "No one will believe that crap any way."

"And it does mean that hopefully now she has another hobby she won't be a worry for either of you anymore." Bex said.

"Fingers crossed." You said. 

It really felt like a massive weight had lifted from your shoulders, you weren't convinced it was all over just yet though. But with the news that she had been spotted with Jasper Littlewood gave you some hope that she wouldn't hassle you anymore.

"I should probably give Kim a call. You go back to sleep Petal."

"No, I'm awake now. And anyway Bex is making me coffee and breakfast aren't you love?!" You replied, staring straight at Bex.

"I suppose I should, since I woke you both up."

"Better leave quick, I'm getting out of bed now and I'm naked!" Niall said laughing.

Bex screamed and jumped up from her seat at the end of the bed, covering her eyes as she walked to the door. Willie was laughing as he closed the bedroom door behind them and you turned to get out of bed. But before you could swing your legs over the side of the bed, Niall had tackled you and pulled you back down. Your head hit the soft pillow as he moved to settle himself above you and between your legs. 

"Thought you were going to make a call?!" You giggled pathetically.

"I am, but I need a kiss first." He replied.

The next couple of weeks was spent with Niall whenever possible. He had gone out with the lads dressed in his Christmas jumper to Winter Wonderland in Hyde Park, while you and Bex had ordered take out and binge watched Netflix.

You'd spent the day Christmas shopping with your Mum in central London, choosing gifts for Niall and your family. Over lunch with your Mum, you discussed what the plans were for Christmas. Tom would be with Claire at her grandparents house for the day, so it would be you, your parents and your auntie, uncle and cousins at your childhood home.

"Maura and I were chatting about maybe getting together for New Years." Your Mum said.

"Oh, were you!" You replied smiling. "And when did you discuss this?!"

"Oh, we chat every week." She said casually.

"You do?!"

"Yes, we swapped phone numbers the night we met. Do you remember?"

"I do, I just didn't know you'd been talking regularly."

"She's such a nice lady, we have so much in common. Not just our youngest children being in love."

"Mum......."

"What?! She said she's never seen him so happy. She absolutely adores you!"

"She does?"

"Yes, very much so. I know I'm biased but you are a wonderful person Callie. Your Dad and I are very proud of you."

You were a bit taken back by your Mums words. She had always been one to praise you all of your life, and your parents had always been the type to tell you they loved you all the time. But hearing her say how proud she was of you brought a lump to your throat. Sensing the impact of her words, your Mum carried on rambling away about her chats with Niall's Mum while you ate.

It later transpired that Maura had invited your parents to Mullingar for New Year's. They would spend three days with her and her husband Chris. She had even invited Niall's Dad and his partner Aoife to join them for a meal so that your parents could meet them to.

When you went to Niall's that night, you found out that he had been chatting with his Mum about the same thing.

"So apparently our Mums are now best friends!" He said laughing.

"I know, is that weird?!"

"Why would it be weird?!" He replied smiling a you. "Isn't it a good thing that they're getting on?!"

"Yeah, it is. I'm pleased they like each other." You answered. It was important to you that they approved of your relationship with Niall. 

"So, I was planning on coming home on the 27th December, but since Mum has invited everyone to hers it looks like I'll be staying till the 2nd January. I said to my Mum I'll sort out flights for your parents, Tom and Claire. Do you want to fly with them on the 30th or so you want to come over earlier?"

"Well, when do you want me to come?"

"I always want you to come babe!" He replied, with a shit eating grin on his face.

"Niall!" You said punching his arm.

"Ouch! What was that for?!"

"Stop being dirty and answer the question."

"If I'm being honest, I don't think I'll cope being away from you for a whole week. The four days is going to be bad enough." He replied, wrapping you up in his arms and placing a kiss on your temple.

"I'll miss you to. I'll get a flight for early on the 27th then."

"No, I'll get you a flight."

"No, I will sort out the flight. I don't expect you to pay for me."

"I know you don't expect me to. But I want to pay for you."

"Ni..."

"No arguing Cal." He replied, placing a finger under your chin and placed a gentle kiss on your lips.

It was the evening of the 22nd of December and Niall had decided to hold a pre Christmas get together at his and Willie's flat. He had invited Tara, his cousin Deo, Mully who had flown over for the holidays. Your brother Tom, his wife Claire, his photographer friend Conor who had been on tour and obviously Bex would be there to.

His plan had included going to Tesco and buying loads of beer and wine, he had also ordered Chinese. Everyone started arriving not long after Niall had placed the order. Since you were going to be apart from Niall for Christmas and also your brother, you had decided to exchange gifts with everyone tonight. When everyone started to arrive, the pile of presents under the tree got bigger.

You had tried to have a sneaky look under the tree but couldn't find anything that said it was from Niall. He had caught you looking on numerous occasions.

When the Chinese arrived, everyone gathered around the massive dining table and started opening all the boxes of food. Tara helped you fill up everyone's wine glasses and grab beers from the fridge. When everyone was seated, Niall started tapping his beer bottle to get everyone's attention.

"Right everyone, some quiet please!" He called out. "Welcome to our fake Christmas dinner."

Everyone smiled and cheered.

"I've had a really fucking amazing year, bit bumpy in parts." He said, and everyone knew was talking about Saskia. "But overall it couldn't have gone any better both professionally and personally."

He looked over to you and smiled, a look passed between you both. A look of contentment, happiness and love.

"Ok, break that eye contact now you two!" Tom joked from down the end of table.

"Tom." Claire said swatting his arm.

"Sorry Tom!" Niall replied. "Anyway as I was saying, it's been a great year and I couldn't have done it without any of you. So if you could raise your glasses for a toast to old friends, new friends, family and to finding the love of my life."

You paused and watched him as he clinked glasses with Willie who was sitting next to him before he turned to you. As he leant in to clink your glass, he kissed you whispering I love yous against your lips.

"Right enough of that soppy crap! Let's tuck in!" Deo announced.

The group started to dish up the Chinese food, passing down dishes to each other until the plates were full. Niall's hand had found its way to your knee, and he ate one handed so he didn't have to break contact. You did the same, entwining your fingers together, your thumb caressing his.

Conversation over dinner was light hearted, stories from tour were shared from Niall, Conor and yourself. Everyone had made your brother Tom and his wife Claire feel welcome, including them in the conversations. They had got married in June so discussed the day with Conor and Tara at the end of the table.

When everyone was well and truly stuffed you all went and sat down on Niall's massive sofa to relax. Drinks were refilled again and the topic of opening Christmas presents came up. Deo, who had popped to the loo appeared dressed as Santa and declared himself in charge of giving out the presents, no one bothered to argue with him.

Bex was first to open her present, a large box gifted from you. Every year you would fill a box full of make up, bath bombs, face masks and little cans of cocktails. It had become sort of a tradition, and Bex would gift you something similar to. You were busy showing Claire what Bex had given you in your box as Deo was opening his gift from Niall, a beer pump and a keg.

Tom was surprised when Niall handed him an envelope. Inside was a gift certificate for a spa day for Claire and a round of golf with a professional golfer at Wentworth golf course for him. He stood up and hugged Niall thanking him for the amazing gift.

Tara laughed at the luxury bathrobe you got her, everyone was staring wondering what the joke was. So she told everyone the story about being in Japan back in September when you had to stop her from stealing the hotel spa one. 

Niall appeared in the doorway half way through opening the presents with a large rectangular box with a bow attached to it. Placing it in front you, you sat there open mouthed.

"Is this for me?!" You managed to blurt out.

"Yep, Merry Christmas Callie."

Everyone's eyes were on you, all desperate to know what was in the box. You began to open it, carefully peeling back the packaging and that's when you saw what it was.

A guitar case. Niall had brought you a guitar for Christmas.

Moving the cardboard box out of the way, and placing the guitar box to your lap, you stared at it for a few moments.

"Open it before we all die of suspense!" Bex yelled out.

Carefully and slowly opening the box you took one look at the guitar inside, quickly closing it and looking at Niall.

"Niall.....are.....are you fucking kidding me?!" You mumbled. "Is this what I think it is?!"

You heart was beating fast, the realisation at what was in the box becoming clear.

It wasn't just any old guitar, it was your dream guitar.

"A Gibson Johnny Smith 1978 acoustic. Is it the one you wanted?" He asked you, and you could see he was nervous. "You said you loved it when we were at Gruhns in Nashville."

 "It is, and I do but........it was really expensive." You whispered, although you were sure everyone could hear, all eyes were on you.

"Babe, it doesn't matter, I wanted to get it for you. The look on your face when you saw it last month. I knew straight away I needed to get for you." He whispered back.

"Thank you so much. I love it, it's the best present I've ever got."

You both smiled at each other, you couldn't believe how lucky you were to have him in your life.

Taking the guitar out of the case, there were lots of oooohhhhhs and aaaaahhhhsss followed by laughter. 

Deo carried on giving out the gifts as you and Niall sat and looked over the guitar.

"I love you." You said giving him a kiss.

"I love you to." He replied.

Part Twenty - final part

https://niall-is-my-dream.tumblr.com/post/183955405793/you-me-part-twenty-last-part

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[elizadushkudaily]

“The year has been in some ways just extraordinary in a beautiful way and it’s been in some ways extraordinary in a really challenging way,” proclaims Mapplethorpe producer Eliza Dushku.

From almost any perspective, that seems like an understatement from the Buffy the Vampire Slayer alum

Married last summer and expecting her first child this summer, Dushku has seen her more than a decade-long endeavor on the Ondi Timoner-directed film about the controversial and hyper-stylized photographer successfully make it to the big screen. After a premiere at the Tribeca Film Festival last year, the Samuel Goldwyn Film distributed-picture, with former Dr. Who and The Crown star Matt Smith in the title role, made a leap today with openings in NYC, LA, Atlanta, Boston, Philadelphia, the nation’s capital and more.

At the same time, Dollhouse star Dushku was thrust into a controversial spotlight of her own as it was revealed that the actor was paid $9.5 million to settle sexual harassment claims on the set of CBS’ Bull concerning star Michael Weatherly. Coming less than a year after Dushku herself spoke out about being sexually assaulted by a stuntman on True Lies when she was 12, the Bull situation originated from The New York Times publishing information from a leaked probe of ex-CBS boss Les Moonves’ behavior and the overall culture at the company.

Restrained by a non-disclosure agreement as a part of her settlement, Dushku nonetheless penned an op-ed in her hometown paper the Boston Globe in December 2018 delivering her side of the story. “I didn’t leak the story, but I was not comfortable with the false narrative that had been propagated, as I wrote about in theGlobe piece,” Dushku told me this week.

Walking a legal line, the op-ed laid out as much as Dushku could what really happened with Weatherly. The actor also detailed why as a once expected series regular, she suddenly was written out of the Amblin Television-produced series after just a few episodes in its first season after presenting her concerns to the network.

I sat down with the frank Dushku recently to talk about the making of Mapplethorpe, where she’s at now and how the current Boston-based Lesley University student got there this year.

DEADLINE: So, as Mapplethorpe is about to open in L.A. and expand across the country, and after a year of, well, a hell of a lot, how are you?

DUSHKU: I am well, thank you. I’ve become good at sort of compartmentalizing even if some people see that as a good thing, some people see that as a bad thing. The year has been in some ways just extraordinary in a beautiful way and it’s been in some ways extraordinary in a really challenging way. However, I feel like this field that I’m studying now, holistic psychology, is about combining all of these — you know, your mind body and spirit — and it’s exactly what I’ve needed and where I’ve needed to be.

So I feel like the universe was looking out for me in that. And in another sense, everything was supposed to happen for us to get to Matt Smith playing Robert Mapplethorpe. He is so good in the movie. Even people that don’t love the movie, they love Matt Smith in the movie.

DEADLINE: In that vein, I know Mapplethorpe was not a film that came together quickly, but how did you get involved in your first run as a feature producer?

DUSHKU: Well, the first time my brother brought me the script from the original writer was 14 years ago. We partnered with Ondi Timoner, the director and co-writer, and optioned the material from Mapplethorpe’s foundation, and it was a long, rough ride.

DEADLINE: How so? I mean, I’d assume one of the hardest parts would be getting the foundation on board.

DUSHKU: For us, there were a number of challenging factors. We had different other cast involved at different times. We worked on the script with the help of the Sundance Institute. We had taken the script to the producer/writer/director labs and wanted to do it right.

DEADLINE: Was Sundance helpful?

DUSHKU: Yeah, it’s a tremendous resource. They do exactly what I was talking about. They bring incredible mentors, and [Robert] Redford himself is up there. They’re giving filmmakers the tools to shoot scenes and then they critique them, and we were really lucky to have some Sundance love.

DEADLINE: So, talking about that rough ride, where was the love harder to find, so to speak?

DUSHKU: (Laughs) Look, this is a business, and as we all know these art movies — whether it’s Frida or Basquiat — they’re not typically a Marvel movie in terms of the return. So you have to sort of find the right financiers for a movie that want to tell a story that’s important.

DEADLINE: Did you think of packing it in by, say Year 10?

DUSHKU: Honestly, sometimes, sometimes. I remember reading about Frida and Salma Hayek, talking about how she’d worked for 12 or 14 years on that movie. This was like just a few years into Mapplethorpe and I thought, “What, that’s insane, how could anyone spend that much time?” But every time it felt like the movie had fallen apart, and there’s no way to put Humpty Dumpty back together again, the sky would open up and a glimmer of light would come through and we would sort of like chase that light. We found ourselves like hopping on a flight or going and meeting this person or chasing every leaf, turning over every stone.

We came so close to missing the window and I think you do, you get a real sense as a producer that’s invested in it that long that you’re leaving something behind, and it really has your sort of print on it and this one makes me really proud.

DEADLINE: Besides actually getting it made, which is a massive accomplishment, what makes you so proud of Mapplethorpe?

DUSHKU: When my brother Nate first brought me that script, I wasn’t familiar really with much of Mapplethorpe’s work. I mean, I knew he took some dirty pictures and I knew that he also took some flower pictures and I knew a little bit about his relationship with Patti [Smith] probably, but nothing substantial.

It wasn’t until we really did a deep dive into his work and met with his foundation and we ended up traveling to Florence for a day to see an exhibit where they had surrounded the David statue with his photographs and I started to realize what an international impact this artist had. What a great American artist he was. The guy was a trailblazer, he was a cultural lightning rod. He was so really brave and imperfect, but we also explored his complicated relationship with his family, his relationship with his religion, and with his peers.

We tried to get to the why and the what drove him. You see his journey and where he began to sort of reconcile in himself that “I am an artist and I have something to say that’s very different than what anyone has ever said.” I thought that was extraordinary, and that was where I saw so much courage in him. I mean, you think about being homosexual and doing what he did in today’s day and age would be challenging. Think about it 30 years ago.

DEADLINE: I do, and I think about it in the context of today’s day and age, as you said, and, to be honest, some of what you gone through …

DUSHKU: Yes, I mean, it’s terrifying. In many ways, we’ve regressed so much when we had made so many strides.

When you talk about Mapplethorpe and back in the ’80s and you’re talking about censorship and First Amendment rights. Yes, of course, there’s the irony of the year that I’ve experienced in terms of silencing people and big corporations. The silencing people in this day and age.

DEADLINE: You mean like NDAs and legal threats?

DUSHKU: To some degree. It’s scary, and I think, frankly, people need to be outspoken and say “We’re not accepting that.” That’s not who we are, that’s not what our democracy is based on. We have our First Amendment rights, and we intend to use them and not have people strip them from us.

So, to go back to Mapplethorpe, it’s extremely relevant right now. Also, in some ways, it’s wild because of the amount of time that it took to make this movie and yet the way that everything has lined up and the timing feeling so important and relevant. The anniversary of Mapplethorpe’s death was 30 years ago last week. The movie is now out across the country and expanding, and he has this beautiful exhibit in the Guggenheim in New York right now. It’s sort of this time of all things Mapplethorpe, so we have to believe that there’s something kismet in that.

DEADLINE: To shift gears, obviously the sexual harassment that happened to you on Bull and the millions CBS paid out in the hopes it and you would go away put a different spotlight on you last year when a copy of the internal investigations over Les Moonves and the overall culture there was leaked to The New York Times. Even with the NDA you signed, you not long after penned an op-ed in the Boston Globe on some of your side of the story, and people should read that, can read that if they want to get your POV. But in terms of NDAs, you recently said you believe that they re-victimize, what did you mean by that?

DUSHKU: As we just talked about in terms or our rights as Americans, and to be able to be complete people, we need the right to stand in our power and in our truth. When you rob somebody of that or when you threaten somebody, it’s really damaging. It’s damaging beyond my business or it’s damaging to a person’s personhood and that is what I’ve really struggled with and realized over the last year.

DEADLINE: How?

DUSHKU: As I’m studying trauma and addiction and holistic psychology and the way we store things in our bodies, I’ve also watched this year and I’ve talked to other women who have been part of the #MeToo and Time’s Up movement, and it’s been a year of reckoning.

It’s time for us to be open about that and say, “No, we’re going to stand in our truth, we’re going to stand in our power.”

DEADLINE: Do you think that #MeToo and Time’s Up can really work, or do you think that Hollywood eventually will revert to its tried and true and bad ways when it comes to sexual harassment, sexual assault and the culture of complacency?

DUSHKU: I’ll say this: In my case, what made me feel a responsibility was the fact that I had been around for so many years. I have been around for almost 30 years. I had worked and built myself up to a place where you know I wasn’t off the bus and yet on a set, I didn’t have a voice. After all those years, to find myself feeling powerless and feeling victimized was not — it was more important to me to tell the truth and face the consequences.

I didn’t leak the story, but I was not comfortable with the false narrative that had been propagated, as I wrote about in the Globe piece. That’s what I’ve been trying to do. But, as you said, I took the opportunity to fully respond to the leak in the CBS case. I responded very deliberately and very intentionally with my Globe piece in many ways in hopes that then I would be able to go on and celebrate the things that I have worked so hard for and on, and not have the bad behavior of men and others define my life going forward.

DEADLINE: Clearly, that’s not where your head is at…

DUSHKU: This year did shake me, you know — didn’t break me, that’s for sure. Like, this is one of my first trips back to LA in a little while, and I actually spent the morning with the three heads of the Time’s Up organization and Mr. Steven Spielberg.

DEADLINE: What was that discussion like with them and the man who, among other things, is the boss of Bull producers Amblin TV?

DUSHKU: Good. We sat and brainstormed and discussed possible solutions for this systemic imbalance of power, the abuse and harassment that we’ve been seeing and hearing and experiencing and both in our industry and beyond. That’s something that you know that I can and will continue to contribute to and I want to look at it from my own experience.

DEADLINE: Do you think others, at that meeting today and otherwise, get that?

DUSHKU: Yes, I think this is a movement. This is not a fad and that’s one thing that was really clear in talking with these women this morning. We need strength in numbers. We need allies like Steven Spielberg, and of course, we do need the media to tell the stories and to help lay responsibility and accountability where it needs to be.

DEADLINE: And for you?

DUSHKU: I want to look at it from a holistic healing perspective and the work I hope to do there. You know, I wouldn’t sit here and say it’s all very exciting, but I think we all at a certain point realize in our lives that as everything starts to intersect you do start to figure out sort of who you are and what you’re here for. I think one of the hardest parts when we’re all facing the different forms of adversity in our lives, is that we do end up carrying a lot of shame. We do end up covering things up and hiding things and then if you come out with things then you have to face the sort of backlash or the opinions of everybody sort of looking at you and judging you. It can all be really overwhelming and you can feel like you just want to numb out and escape. Now, I’m learning to transform that into something that might help someone else.

Of course, I understand that journalists have their job and that they have to ask, but I also would hope that that’s something that people pay attention to. That part of my being able to heal and to move on is to be able to stand in the power that I produced this movie for 14 years and it’s doing incredibly well and we’re expanding this week. It’s an accomplishment having been an actor for so long, as my first feature as a producer and yeah, I’m really, I’m really psyched about that.

DEADLINE: No argument there…

DUSHKU: Yeah. I’m not only in service of Mapplethorpe, I’m in service of everyone that came together to make this movie. While my story is important, I’ve talked about it, I’ve written about it. Now I want to be in service of this movie and this story and everyone that worked on it.

DEADLINE: So what’s next?

DUSHKU: (Laughs and points at her pregnant belly) Well, my next major production will be this summer in July and that’s right here. Other than that, I mean, god, to look back at almost 30 years in this business I feel like I’m just so grateful, I’m proud of so many of the things that I’ve done as a producer. You know, I was a producer on Dollhouse and that was an incredible experience. My brother and I also had produced a documentary about Albania with PBS, and it’s on Amazon now called Dear Albania.

So what’s next is just having that freedom to tell any kinds of stories that I want to tell that are important to me.

[namjoonsteeth]

Ruin The Friendship VII

Title: Ruin The Friendship (mini-series) part 7

Word-Count: 6.6k

Pairing: Jay Park/ Reader (kinda)

Summary: Best friends to lovers. Inspired by Ruin The Friendship - Demi Lovato.

Genre: Smutty Fluff

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

“Someone pushed the story without me, Y/n. I can promise you that whoever had access to my files will be found and repercussions will be done,”

Gina Waters has been trying to contact me for the last two days. I’d blocked her number, email address and purposely found her social media accounts just so I could block her on them as well. I was feeling quite bitter a day and a half ago. It seems like Gina has made it her mission to speak with me considering this is the fourth unknown number she’s tried to call me with. The only reason I answered was so that I can tell her that I’m definitely pressing harassment charges if she continues to contact me.

I sigh pressing the phone to my ear. I stand up, trying to ease out of Jay’s massive bed as quietly as I can. I pull a pair of his basketball shorts and pull them on before slipping out of the room.

Because of Gina Waters, my apartment has been deemed as no longer safe by my very protective boyfriend. The few young girls who were outside sometimes doubled overnight, and they aren’t as nice as before. I don’t understand Korean completely but I know when I’m being insulted. Jay hasn’t let me walk to work in the last two days and I’m exiled to his apartment once again much to his pleasure.

“I don’t believe you,” I say, pulling my wild hair into a ponytail. I head to the bathroom to see just how scary I look. There’s dried drool on the corner of my mouth, and I’m starting to break out probably from stress. One of the best things about being with Jay is that he already knows I’m in a constant state of mess.

“Why would I be calling you if I put the article out, Y/n?”

I think for a long minute. When I can’t come up with anything, I roll my eyes at myself.

“So, what do you want then?”

“I want permission to run the story I actually wrote. I can send you a copy, you edit out whatever you don’t want in,”

“Why? I’m hardly interesting enough to be worrying about. Just call it a loss and we both pretend that someone at your office didn’t try to ruin my career and reputation,”

“Y/n,” Gina sighs like I’m the one being exasperating. “I believe you will single-handedly leave a mark on the fashion industry in South Korea. Your impact has been noticed and I want your story to be told the way I intended it to be told. I want to omit any mention of Jay Park. And I want you to get the recognition you deserve,”

“I’m really not that important over here,” I laugh. I put the phone on speaker so I can brush my teeth.

“Y/n,” she says my name like she’s talking to a child who refuses to listen to reason. “Styles found only in Southern California are popping up on Korean boy group members. Jay Park just made a top twenty list of the most fashionable men in the world. It’s your impact. It’s your influence,”

I groan around the foam in my mouth. “Fine! Fine, I don’t care. Do whatever you want. No mention of Jay and I want a name of who sent the story in,”

“Perfect! I’ll send you a link to what I have you tell me what to take out,”

“Don’t worry about it. Just try not to do any more damage, please,”

I don’t even know what I’m doing it, but for some reason, I believe her. I believe her and I trust her more than I probably should. I don’t know what it is about Gina Waters that has me once again putting everything in her hands.

“I’m sending it in for publishing first thing in the morning, Y/n. Thank you by the way,”

“For what?”

“You’re the biggest new thing coming to fashion, Y/n. I get to say that I had a hand in getting  you that Vogue editorial,”

What’s up with everyone and Vogue?

“I’ll be in touch,” she says.

“I don’t doubt it,” I murmur.

“Oh and Y/n, I didn’t send the shitty story in, but someone did. I’m going to find out, but don’t forget someone has something against you. Be careful,”

I’m not sure what to say. “Okay, thanks, Gina,”

We both hang up. I lean against the sink and sigh. Thinking about her words, I can’t put a finger on anyone who would gain anything from running a story on Jay. Granted the article didn’t explicitly make it seem like I was using him for his name, it’s just what people have started to conclude. I don’t get it.

There’s a knock on the bathroom door and I open it so Jay can come in. He hesitates in the doorway. “I need to pee,”

“Well pee, then,” I laugh frowning at him around my toothbrush.

“Aren’t you going to get out?”

“No, I’m brushing my teeth,”

“Can you please get out so I can pee,”

I pull my toothbrush out of my mouth so I can look at him. He has stubble around his mouth and chin, his dark hair sticks up in every direction, and he’s still so handsome it’s unfair. He scratches tiredly at his bare stomach as he waits.

“I’ve seen your dick before. I’ve actually touched it too if you remember. I’m not phased by you peeing for less than thirty seconds, but if you insist on being this high maintenance in the morning I will leave. But I have you know you could’ve been done using the bathroom right now if you had just come in and peed three minutes ago,”

“I’m trying to be considerate,” he frowns while I move out of the bathroom.

“You do realize that I’m used to you being the opposite of considerate right?”

I hear the toilet flush before the water runs. After a few seconds, I hear the unmistakable sound of a toothbrush moving against teeth. I push into the bathroom.

“You asshole!”

He smiles around his toothbrush, moving over so I can finish brushing my own teeth.

“You’ve been in here for twenty minutes brushing your teeth, Y/n,” he laughs.

“I was on the phone,”

“I figured from all the sighing I heard,” he laughs. He pulls the foamy brush out of his mouth. “Are you ok?”

“Yeah, it was the writer I did the interview with. Someone pushed the article through without her consent,”

“And you believe her?”

I reach up to smooth my thumb over his raised slitted eyebrow. “Are you going to redo this? Yes, I believe her. If she’d been the one to publish the story she wouldn’t be calling me,”

“Yeah, I’ll do it before the wedding on Friday. I guess you’re right. What did she want then?”

He waits as I rinse with mouthwash and put my toothbrush back in the cup. I sit on the sink in front of his toiletries.

“She asked permission to publish the story she actually wrote. I told her I didn’t care as long as she didn’t mention you,”

Jay rinses and reaches behind me to grab his razor and shaving cream. I watch as he lathers the cream on his face.

“You think that’s a good idea?”

“I don’t know. For some reason, she believes I’m going to be bigger than whatever I’m doing now. I rather not miss my opportunity. And whoever pushed the story obviously wanted me to. I feel like I’m letting them win or something,”

“Ok, baby,”

I narrow my eyes at him while he glides the razor over his skin. He seems so focused that I’d miss the pensive look in his eyes if I didn’t know him so well.

“Is that ‘okay, baby. I don’t agree with you, but you look scary in the morning so I’ll shut up’?”

“I’ve seen you look worse-,”

“Oh fuck you,”

He leans over to press his lips against mine which gives me a shaving cream mustache. I look in the mirror. We look fucking adorable if I’m honest. I grab my phone and snap a picture of us smiling in the mirror.

“You know I’m kidding. You’re beautiful all the time. That’s like the boyfriend thing to say, right?”

I slap his arm and hop off the sink to grab a towel and wipe off the shaving cream.

“And, you’re grown, Y/n. You don’t need me to sign off on your decisions. If you trust her, I trust her. Whatever you decide is the right decision for me too,”

I wrap my arms around his waist, running my hands over his chest. I press my cheek against his broad back.

“Who are you and where is my asshole friend Jay Park?”

“He’s crazy in love and being supportive of his pretty girlfriend,”

I press my lips against the center of his back. “You’re working today,”

“Yeah, I’m going to try really hard to keep everything short. I know you hate being here by yourself,”

I sigh, letting go of his waist. “It’s ok. I’ll be fine. I’m going to the office. Bora got back in yesterday. We might go get lunch after,”

“Ok, baby,” he pats his face dry. “But take the car with you. I don’t want you walking anywhere. Not even down the street,”

“I’m not in danger, Jay,”

“I don’t care. I’m not risking it. There are too many people with access to you right now,”

“Ok,” I concede. “I’m going to shower, so get out,”

“What if I wanted to shower,”

I peel my clothes off and step into Jay’s large shower. It was definitely made with luxury in mind. With different jet speeds, this is the real reason I decided to move in. I could happily spend hours in here.

“I don’t think anyone is using the bathroom in the guest room,” I smirk.

“You should just move in now,” Jay says suddenly. I look at him through the glass. His head tilts as he watches the water flow down my body. His tongue comes over his bottom lip.

“What?” I tap the glass to bring his eyes back up. “What did you say?”

“There’s hardly any security at your place, Y/n. I’m going to be gone weeks at a time. I would feel more comfortable if I knew you were safe here,”

“I don’t want to,” I pout. I’m going to miss my little homey place. Its the only other place I’d lived at besides home. I already feel like I’m abandoning it whenever I spend a couple of days at Jay’s.

“You don’t want to,” Jay crosses his arms over his chest.

“I haven’t had a proper goodbye yet, Jay. You can’t give us a few months and then change it to a couple of days,”

“Us?” His eyebrow raises.

I turn away from him, grabbing my washcloth.

“Me and my home,” I sigh, a little embarrassed at the attachment I have.

“Ok, fine,” he says. He turns to leave the bathroom but I tap on the glass again.

“What’s that supposed to mean? ‘Ok, fine’” I mimic his voice while pulling a face. “What’s that?”

“It’s ‘Ok, fine,’” he laughs. “I’m not going to force you to do anything, Y/n,”

I turn off the shower and reach for a towel to wrap around my body. I breeze past him back into his room.

“Now, you’re turning up your nose at me,” he says following close behind.

“I didn’t like your ‘ok, fine.’”

“First of all, stop doing that face, and I don’t sound like that. Second, what do you want me to say, Y/n?”

I follow him into his closet and lean against the door frame. I watch him sift through t-shirts he has hanging up.

“I don’t know. Why ask me to move in sooner if you aren’t 100 percent behind the idea,”

“Who says I’m not 100 percent behind it,”

“‘Ok, fine’ says so,”

He turns to look at me. Before I know what’s happening, he has his arms wrapped around my waist and his mouth against mine. His tongue pushes past my lips roughly before meeting with mine. When he pulls back I’m breathless and a little lightheaded.

“You,” He says as he catches his own breath. “Are the most difficult person I’ve ever fucking met in my life. It’s like you live for confrontation and being a pain in my ass,”

I run my tongue over my lips, smiling up at him. “I’ll start packing today,”

“You’re the worst,” he laughs and kisses my forehead. “Give me half an hour and you can drop me off at work, ok?”

I nod, puckering my lips for one more kiss. He touches my lips before going to take a shower. He turns to look at me.

“Hey, wear your own clothes today,”

I push my bottom lip out having just spied a pair of jeans I know will fit me.

“Why, I have nothing to wear,”

“You never give me my shit back,”

“All you ever do is complain these days,” I say, faking disappointment.

“Go to work and annoy your friends or something,” he says disappearing to go get ready for work himself.

We drive together, with Jay promising to get home early as I drop him off. I refuse to get used to driving a Bentley. Whatever sacrifices I have to make so I can still pay rent and get a car is going to have to be made. Jay can keep him monstrosity even if it is pretty. There’s still people milling around outside so I hurry into the studio garage.

When I get in, Bora is already there, sun-kissed and prettier than ever. I’ve missed her so much.

“Look what the cat dragged in from fucking her hot boyfriend,”

I frown at my friend. “You sound bitter,” I laugh.

“I am. Jay stole my friend, and she doesn’t even give me all the juicy details,”

“I know, I know! We haven’t had time to get together,”

Bora narrows her eyes at me. God, she’s so perceptive.

“Something is happening. What did you do?”

I peek over her shoulder pretending to be engrossed with whatever she’s working on.

“Try a higher heel. It’s perfect but I think a tiny bit of a lift is what’s missing,”

“Thank you and I will do that. What did you do,” she says again.

I sigh, leaning my forehead on her shoulder. “I’m moving in,”

“Oh, my god, Y/n! Domestication! When?”

“Sooner rather than later. He doesn’t think I’m safe at my place from the teenage fans that follow me to work,”

“He’s right,”

“So coffee at my place? While I con you guys into helping me pack,” I smile hopefully at her.

“You’re lucky you’re cute. I’ll let Chae know. She’s going to give you a lecture though,”

I sigh taking my own seat at my desk. “I know,”

Chae doesn’t give me a lecture. Instead, she looks at me like she’s totally unsurprised by the turn of events. We get started packing my little apartment into boxes surrounded by coffee and snacks while talking about our relationships. It’s the girl friendships I’d missed out on when I was an awkward kid who couldn’t dance but spent most of her time at b-boy shows.

“I know he wouldn’t, Y/n. But how do you just trust him completely? He’s surrounded by women everywhere. How is there no doubt that he won’t fuck up,” Bora asks while folding some dresses.

“I just know that he’s Jay. I can’t explain it. He’s always just said what he meant. If he wanted out, I know he’d tell me before going behind my back with someone else,”

“See, I don’t see how you guys aren’t married by now. It took me three years of being with Jin to get to that point,”

I shrug. “We’re not in a rush. I’m not going anywhere,”

Chae comes back to my room with a few more boxes. I feel weird about taking up Jay’s place with all of my stuff. His apartment is very much so a reflection of him; straightforward and to the point with hints of his personality mixed in. I can’t come with my cat duvet and quartz collection. Not only are they random, he’d never let me live down bringing my rock collection.

“You guys realize it’s just a ring, right? Everything changes with this little piece of metal,” she wiggles her fingers before going back to unfolding boxes.

“Is that a good or bad thing,” Bora asks.

Chae tilts her head to the side. “It’s neither. It’s just a thing. I can say I never loved my husband more than the week after we were married. And I never hated him more than that week either,”

I think about what she says and how much Jay and I have changed too. I get it, I think. Sometimes it seems like we aren’t even in the same book, let alone on the same page. He throws me every time he opens his mouth.

“It gets better and it gets worse,” I say.

Chae nods. “You and Jay might be the exception. But then again you might not. I think you guys are still discovering each other no matter how much history you have. Ride that out for a little while,” she turns her eyes to Bora.

“And everyone progresses at different paces. You are Jin are like a slow burn instead of this one’s” she jerks her thumb at me. “fucking explosion of everything at once. There’s nothing wrong with that either,”

Chae, the mom friend. We continue like this, talking and laughing while we pack up boxes and divide them between storage and Jay’s place. At the end of it all, the main thing I’m taking is my clothes and shoes. Everything else isn’t really a necessity. I still have a lot to do but in the next few days, I can be completely packed and in Jay’s place. How fucking weird is that? It seems like only yesterday I was kissing him for the first time, now I’m moving in. Granted it’s not completely by choice, but it still feels like I’ve passed a monumental milestone.

“He’s leaving. Are you guys ok?” Chae asks me.

I think about it for the first time honestly. There’s no denying that he’ll be gone for a long time. He won’t be able to just hop on a plane and come home whenever he wants and I won’t be able to go to him either. I’ve been spoiled for the last month or so. It’s been just kismet that he’s had as much time off as he did while we were still figuring everything out.

“Yeah, we’ll be fine. I just, I want to do something you know. I can’t just let him go without us having a night to ourselves. With his schedule in the next few days, I don’t know if we’ll get a proper send-off,”

“Why not tonight?” Bora holds up a strapping black bodysuit with the tags attached while wiggling her eyebrows.

I shrug. “He’s working,”

“I think he’ll be more upset if he knew you weren’t putting this to use,” She laughs.

“I second that,” Chae says pulling out a pair of scarlet red heels.

“He’s working,” I groan.

They both roll their eyes at me.

“Curl your hair,” Bora says standing to shuffle around my room. “Actually, I’ll do it,” she says finally locating my straightener on my dresser.

Chae smiles at me. “You don’t have a choice anymore,”

I’m anxious to get back to Jay’s. I get ready in the lingerie Bora forced me to bring along and pull out a pair of strapped red heels.

I call Jay to make sure it’s safe to come by wearing literally nothing.

“Is there anyone there with you?” I ask while tying the red string of the heel around my ankle.

“No, I’m here alone. Everybody went home a few hours ago,” he says. He sounds tired as usual. I’m hoping he’s in the mood for what I have planned because this will all be a waste. If I know my boyfriend as well as I think I do though, I’m betting he’s always in the mood.

“Did you eat?”

“No, not yet. I was just about to order something. I’m sorry, baby. I know I said I’d be home earlier,”

I smile at myself. He’s too considerate. “Hey, don’t worry about it, Jay. I do want to see you, though. Do you think you can take a break? We can have dinner,”

“You don’t have to come all the way out here, Y/n,”

“I want to. I miss you a little bit,”

He laughs. “A little bit? Ok, thank you, I appreciate it. Can you drive yourself over?”

“Yes,” I laugh. “Give me maybe twenty minutes and I’ll be over,”

“Ok, baby. I’ll see you in a minute,”

We hang up with me securing my other shoe in place. I stand and head to Jay’s closet. Hanging on the back of his door, the tan trench coat he’d bought me. I look at myself in the mirror. The black ensemble fits too perfectly. My breasts are framed by lace, velvet straps cross around my waist holding up more lace. It’s not his birthday but it sure will feel like it, if I have anything to do with it. It’s only seven-thirty so we have plenty of time before it gets too late and we’re both too tired for anything.

I pull the trench coat on and grab my purse and Jay’s keys on the way out. 

I don’t know why I’m nervous. Maybe it’s the probability of someone being there or walking in. Or maybe this whole thing is freaking ridiculous. I shift against the leather seats, my thighs sticking a little bit.

I park in his garage and head upstairs. Hesitantly, I press the key code hoping like hell no one decided on late hours tonight. I need this. A fun, wild night of him. Just because. When I walk in, the main area is empty thank goodness. Still, I pull the jacket down to cover a centimeter more of my thighs.

“Jay?” I call.

“Y/n? That was quick. What happened to picking up food-,”

He stops mid-sentence when he sets eyes on me.

“No, fucking way,” he whispers.

His eyes follow me as I walk further into the massive space. There’s so much room around us, yet I feel like none of it matters when he looks at me like that. All the confidence I had is now depleted, replaced with nerves and overwhelming need to just have his hands on me.

“I forgot the food,” I say quietly. I watch his eyes travel up from my feet and linger around my thighs.

“That’s ok,” he says quietly.

I pull my lip between my teeth, suddenly shy at his reaction. My hand goes to the belt of the coat.

“Wait,” he says. He comes close to me until he’s only a couple of feet away. He leans against the back of the couch.

“Someone could come in,”

“Your office?”

He reaches out for my hand and leads me behind the glass of his office. He grabs a remote control, turning the clear glass opaque. He leans against his desk, waiting for me to move first.

“Is this a late birthday present?”

I smile at him, pulling the belt. The coat falls open just enough to give a peek at just how little I’m wearing beneath it. Jay’s eyes eat up the sliver of skin he sees. He reaches out to set a hand on my hip but I pull out of his reach.

“Don’t touch,” I say. “Not yet,”

He pulls back ready to listen and follow whatever else I say. I kind of like this power. The man who quite literally never stops talking has been struck silent by a few straps of flimsy fabric.

My hands go to the waistband of his pants. My eyes don’t leave his as I push the elastic down away from his hips along with his boxers. I stroke his silky skin. When he leans in, I let him kiss me softly. I’m glad I remembered to just go with lip balm instead of the red lipstick I wanted to use. His teeth pull gently at my bottom lip. His tongue pushes against mine while his arms come up to wrap around me. I’m so lost in how he feels in my hand and against my mouth, that I forget he’s not supposed to touch me.

His hips start to move into my hand, jerking me out of my stupor. I pull out of the kiss and step back. He opens his mouth to protest but stops as I sink down to my knees in front of him.

I don’t wait. I wrap my lips around him until he hits the back of my throat. I circle my tongue as his hands come up to tangle in my hair. I look up him, watching his head drop back and his lips part. If I could take a picture of him like this, I would. I want to savor the look of complete pleasure on his face.

His neck stretches, showing me the black lines of the compass etched into his skin, probably my favorite of his tattoos. I close my eyes and focus on making him feel good.

“Y/n,” he says my name like it’s a cuss word. Like maybe the way he’s thinking about me is sinful. I understand it because I feel the same way.

I’m finding out fantasies aren’t just for the person who has them. There’s a certain pleasure in being the one to carry it out. This, this is my own fantasy; to have him be completely enamored with me that I alone can be responsible for the pinch between his brows and the hardening of his jaw.

Jay grabs my shoulders and pulls me up off my knees. He takes my mouth again, pushing the coat off and onto the floor. When his lips trail down to my neck, I reach up to pull at his hair and draw him closer. He pulls away, his chest moving against mine rapidly. His hands on my hips spin me around slowly as he finally takes in the whole outfit.

“Fuck, you’re so damn hot. Look at you, baby,”

His fingers trace the straps that cross over my body. His hands smooth down until he covers my ass.

“Desk or couch?” I ask raising an impatient eyebrow at him. Honestly, I would even settle on the floor right now. I still feel the weight of him on my tongue and I’m tempted to sink back down and make him come with my mouth.

“Right here,” he says while gripping my hips suddenly. He lifts me up on the edge of the desk. I reach behind me, moving papers out of the way so I can lay. Jay nudges my legs apart so he can stand between my knees.

“I don’t have anything,” he says looking around as if a condom is going to appear among the papers and other shit.

“My purse,” I say tapping at his arm impatiently. He pulls his joggers back in place which does nothing to hide the bulge. He hurries through the foggy door, leaving me staring up at the ceiling above me.

He comes back quickly and gets back into position. He pulls the latex on before bringing his hands down on my hips. He glides in slowly. His fingers dig into my skin like he’s trying to control himself.

“Jay,” I call. I try to wrap my legs around him but he pushes on my thigh to keep them open.  He moves too slowly. Tortuous pulls draw out moans from my lips. My fingers ache to hold some part of him, but I can’t reach anything other than his hands on my waist.

“Tell me what you want,”

“Harder, faster, please,” I beg.

“Fuck,” Jay breathes out. “I’m going to miss this,”

One of his hands slides across my stomach up toward one of my breast covered in lace. He pulls the material down, covering my skin with his palm. His hips pump faster against me.

I’m so lost, I don’t even notice the fact that my back is pressed against the cold glass or that I’m knocking papers off his desk, fact that I’m digging my nails so deep into his wrist I’m sure I’ve punctured his skin.

He groans loudly before pulling away from me completely. I whimper at the loss of his body against mine.

“Up,” he instructs. I do as I’m told, sitting up on the desk before hoping down. Two hands come up, cupping the back of my neck as he brings my mouth in. This time, I catch his lips between my teeth before he can pull me in. I nibble on his bottom lip, bringing my own hands up to comb through his dark hair.

He pulls away suddenly, a hand on my hip spins me around so that my back is toward him. He runs his palm up my spine, applying the smallest amount of pressure to get me to bend. My chest presses against the desk as he bends over me. His lips fall on the back of my neck, and then my ear.

“You like when I take you like this, right?”

I nod wanting nothing but to taste his mouth again. He pulls away only a little. His lips move down my spine slowly. A hand moves against my ass, squeezing my skin.

“You’re so sexy,” he says against my skin. “And you’re all mine, aren’t you? You’ve always been mine,”

I can’t speak. It’s like my tongue is caught in my throat or something. I look back at him. His wet hair, a little too long falls over his falls over his forehead barely covering his eyes that work over my skin.

He draws back fully standing above me. Without warning his hips snap against mine. I moan out as he continues at the rough staggered pace. I reach out to hold onto the edge of the desk.

“Fuck, Y/n, fuck,”

Whenever I think I can’t be more attracted to him, he surpasses expectation. It makes me weak. It makes me give him pieces of myself that I should maybe keep to myself. With Jay, he’s made it so that there’s no such thing as holding back for me. He owns everything. Like he said, he always has.

“God, I love you,” I cry out.

“I love you too, baby, so much,”

I feel my knees finally give out, and I’m not able to hold myself up anymore. I feel like I’m floating, moving through time with nothing pulling me back to earth but his hands on me.

A hand slides up my back toward the back of my scalp. His fingers tighten around my hair gently as he fucks me. I feel dirty. Like we’re doing something we aren’t supposed to. Realistically, anyone can walk in at any time and this isn’t a soundproof room. There’s a thrill at the possibility of someone coming in to hear the sound of Jay’s skin moving against mine, and just how good he’s making me feel.

“Jay,” I sigh, swiveling my hips in time with his to get closer to him somehow.

“I’m right here, baby. I’m not going anywhere,”

But, you are.

I shake the thought of him leaving me away. I’m here. He’s here. And it’s not forever.

His hands move all around my body, touching skin that he knows as well as his own. I wonder when exactly all the small pieces of me became more for him. When the beauty spots on my shoulder became parts of me he’d fallen in love with too. When did he know that the birthmark on the back of my left thigh belonged to him along with the rest of me?

He curses, suddenly. His movements become more erratic and rough with his fingers digging into my skin. My knees bump against the glass of his desk as he comes against me. I feel myself come again wrapped around him with a loud groan. His hands rest on either side of me while we both come down from wherever we just were.

I’ve never been one for passion. I’ve never been one for deep affection. I always thought it was just how I was set up. Sometimes I’d wonder if I just didn’t have the capacity to fall head over heels in love with someone.

But here I am; draped across a glass desk, drenched in sweat, thoroughly (roughly) fucked, and so damn in love, I could burst. All four of these things I never thought they could be with Jay. Jay who knows all the bad parts of me. Jay who gets annoyed at how indecisive I am. Jay who introduced me to my first boyfriend. Jay who has seen all of my emotional wreck moments.

It’s Jay, Jay, Jay, Jay, Jay. It always has been. And no matter how much we fight, how much we bitch and complain and annoy each other it’s always going to be Jay for me.

Jay pulls away from me and helps me stand up. I pull the straps of the thin outfit back in place. He disposes the condom in a trash can behind his desk and comes back to me. I lean against the desk and watch him pull himself back into place.

“Are you ok?” He frowns at me. “Was I too rough?”

I shake my head and clear the lump of emotion out of my throat.

“No, it was perfect. You were perfect. I just,” I trail off searching his brown eyes for something. For some hint that everything for the last decade and a half leading up to this moment was somehow wrong. That for some reason we’d gotten it wrong and we’ll crumble tomorrow.

I think about what Chae said about marriage making everything worse and better. I don’t think it’s the act of marrying someone. I think it’s the act of irrevocably committing to someone that has everything in chaos after marriage for some people. I also think Jay and I have been committed to each other for years before we got together. We’d decided to be apart of each other’s life forever a long time ago so maybe we’ll be ok.

It’s this moment that I feel myself stop walking on eggshells. This is it for me. I can say that without fear or hesitation now. No, matter how bad it gets, or what stupid mistake either of us makes, it’ll never be enough to ruin us.

I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.

His words feel like more than a promise. It’s like a law now. It can’t be undone.

His hands cup my face, his thumbs swipe under my lips that feel a little bit swollen.

“You’re scaring me, Y/n,” he gives me a small smile. “What’s wrong, baby?”

“I’ve been afraid that I’ll lose you all this time. I’ve been so scared that anything one of us did could make everything just implode,”

I reach up to run my hands along his sides. Even touching him like this is comforting.

“I just realized that we’re stuck with each other whether we like it or not,” I smile.

Jay rolls his eyes and brings his mouth down to mine. When he pulls back, his tongue comes across his bottom lip before he gives me a smile that tilts everything inside of me on its axis.

“I’ve always known you were a slow learner,”

I scoff, rolling my eyes, but I can’t stop smiling. “You’re so annoying. So, so annoying,”

I duck under his arm and grab my trench coat that I’d discarded on the ground. Jay laughs and helps me into the jacket, even tying it securely at my waist.

“Let’s go home and do this all over again,”

I smile up at him ready to say something smart back but my phone rings. I pull it out of my purse. It’s Gina Waters. She’s somehow managed to both start and end my day. I don’t know how I feel about that.

“Hey, Gina,”

“Y/n. I have news. All kinds of news,”

“Ok, I’m ready for all kinds of news, I think,” Jay frowns down at me but I shrug not knowing what she’s talking about.

“First, and most importantly, my article is up on Haute. It has tons of traffic and I want a dedication when you write your first memoir,”

I laugh. “Ok, noted. Thank you. I know I sounded more than a little hesitant this morning but I appreciate you caring enough to put something else out,”

“Of course, Y/n. It was an honor, trust me. Second, we figured out who was behind the first article. A writer who was just looking to write big story confessed this morning. I guess news got around that I had gotten a story with you, he did some digging, got in contact with a friend of yours. He said she gave him everything he needed to know about your boyfriend,”

“A friend of mine? I don’t actually have friends. I have two,”I look at my boyfriend who’s cleaning up the mess of papers. “Three. If you count my boyfriend, which we aren’t because he’s out of the question,”

But Chae and Bora wouldn’t do this either.

“Well, trust me he’s being more than dealt with. Using unreliable sources is the least of what he should be worried about. Unfortunately, because Elise Reagan doesn’t work for us and didn’t do anything illegal, we can’t actually deal with her,”

My blood runs cold. Then hot. Scorching hot. I can feel the heat on the surface of my skin.

“You said, Elise, right? I’m not going crazy. You said, Elise Reagan?”

Gina pauses. “I mean, yeah. You know her, I’m guessing?”

“Yes. Listen, I’ll handle Elise. Thank you. I have to go,”

“Y/n, wait wait,”

“Thank you, Gina. We’ll talk tomorrow. My tomorrow, I guess. I hate time zones. I’ll call you,”

I hang up. I set my eyes on my boyfriend who looks at me wide-eyed.

“Why are you so damn pretty,” I groan.

His eyebrows rise up.

“Excuse me?”

“You just attract fucking crazy ass women. Before, it used to be funny watching you navigate the trouble your face and your stupid smile and everything else you have going on,” I gesture up and down his body. “caused. But, now I’m annoyed,”

“So this is my fault,” he laughs incredulously.

“Yes...no,” I groan again. “Let’s go, I’m hungry, and I need to think about how I’m going to deal with this,”

I can see it now. Jay Park’s American girlfriend who uses him for attention found attacking Elise Reagan for exposing her demon ways.

“What’s wrong with your face? You look like you’re about to have a stroke,”

I roll my eyes and grab his extended hand. “I’m pissed,”

“Clearly,”

“And I’m hungry. And I rather not think about this girl right now,”

“Ok, so food, more sex, and sleep?”

“Food, the rest is debatable,”

Jay rolls his eyes but leads me out of his office. I hand over his keys on the way down to his car.

We pick up food on our way home and by the time I’m done eating, I’m so angry with only have Jay to take out my aggression out on (much to his appreciation). We curl around each other late at night.

“You and your stupid pretty face,” I curse into his neck. “Everyone is obsessed with you. Literally everyone,”

“You can sue her or something,” he suggests.

“No, she has money. She won’t care. She wants you. It’s hurting her stupid rich pride that she can’t have you. Not just that she can’t have you. She’s seething that someone has prohibited her from having you. She’s not allowed to,”

Jay is quiet for a long time. Finally, he sighs and pulls me in tight. “I feel like a piece of meat,”

I laugh. “My piece of meat,”

[ginasneesby]

New Zealand 2018 - first week

So I did it, I planned to move to New Zealand for a year and I actually did it. The last thing that I decided I wanted to do and actually did was to start tap dancing when I was 15 so it's only taken me another 14 years to achieve something I said I was going to do. Obviously, that doesn't include uni and London etc because that was a natural step, this is so far away from my normal life it's a little scary but I'm also very excited for what the year will hold.

I flew on the evening of the 9th of January and was escorted to the airport by my parents, my sister and my two best girls. We had a meal and a drink, I was given some lovely presents and then I made them leave me so I could go sit at the gate and not make a big scene in the departure lounge. I'm going to miss everyone like crazy but I hope travelling and having new experiences will fill that gap; at least a little. My first flight was about 14 hours long, luckily I had nobody sitting next to me so I had a bit of room, but I was also trying to stay awake this journey to try and get on the right time so I watched films for most of the flight and didn't mind being in one seat and up right. Of all the films I watched Deepwater Horizon was probably the best one it made me forget that I was on a plane which is always good when you're sat down for so freaking long. I stopped off in Manila for 3 or so hours, it wasn't too bad although it's a weird feeling to be tired so you want to sit down but also want to do anything but sit down because that's all you've done for the last day and will do again for the next 10 hours. There is also absolutely fuck all to do, so I spent my time listening to sense and sensibility on Audible, I wish I downloaded a better book. The next flight was 10 hours I was in the middle of 4 and every seat was taken and I noticed there was no entertainment system in front of me. Ho Ly Shit!! Luckily my plan was to sleep for most of this flight, I managed about 5 hours having had a little kip on the first flight, but that still meant 4 hours until we landed with no films to watch and nothing downloaded as I have no memory. I can't tell you the last time I cycled through Candy Crush, Angry Birds and other such games for such a long time all while listening to Jane Austen. It was a very boring few hours, but I made it! I landed, collected my bags, got through immigration and customs and after a desperate cigarette got a shuttle which took me straight to the door of my Airbnb in Grafton. I was determined not to ruin the good work I had done on the plane so even though I was pretty tired I went out for a walk found the local supermarket and bought a few things for dinner. It's quite an experience walking around a supermarket hungry and jetlagged, you can't make any decisions on what you want to eat but you kind of want everything, after I walked home with the food I then wasn't hungry at all so I had a few chips and dip and went to sleep. I woke up at 3 o'clock in the morning really hungry so ate a little something, luckily I managed to go back to sleep easily and woke up at a more reasonable time.

My first job was to try and find a car, I had a budget of about $2,000 which is about £1100, it didn't have to be anything spectacular it just had to last me a year! Maybe I was looking in the wrong place but nobody really had cars for that price, they were all a lot more expensive, one dealer did have a car in that price range, it was a bit older than I would have wanted but I thought I'll have a look and take it for a drive, however he came back to tell me but they'd actually lost the keys about a month ago. Good work guys. So a bit deflated and a bit sunburnt, why did no one tell me it was going to be so hot! I trekked back to my Airbnb stopping at a pub, an Irish pub obvs, and then decided to go to an off licence to buy some more beer and try to salvage the day. That's always the best thing to do when you're worried about how much to spend on a car, right? Spend it on beer instead and then the issue is gone. I have to say I did have a lovely evening sitting by myself, on the deck, in the sun, getting slightly tipsy and watching comedy programmes on Netflix (Jess is a life saver!) Although I was slightly surprised, it being Friday night that no one else in the Airbnb appeared or even came to say hello, luckily it wasn't my proper accommodation; that would be really sucky.

The next day I had arranged a number of viewings for places to live, the first one although a nice room was living with a family which I didn't realise, yeah no thanks. The next one was quite nice but unfurnished and quite a long way from any shops or pubs, it was on a highway which would be really helpful to get to work but not so fun when you have to drive everywhere. Also some of the neighbours have swimming pools which the girls who lived there said was actual torture on hot days; however it was still top of my list. The third one was a small room which didn't even fit the bed in and there was only one bathroom between me and two boys, it was also upstairs so I would have had to trek through the house if I needed a wee at night. There was also the slight problem of both boys being vegan, yeah no thanks. I had a few more viewings the next day so I wasn't too worried although it's always slightly nerve-racking when other people have viewed, if they didn't pick me, I may have been forced to live somewhere awful. That evening I have plans to go to dinner with my two aunts who came to New Zealand that day and we're heading down to Queenstown to see my cousin play in the under 19 England cricket World Cup team, of all the places in the world it could have been held, it was here. It was very nice to see some familiar faces and actually talk to some people as I haven't really done that for a few days unless I was buying something. We went to a really nice Thai restaurant called Saan where they recommend you buy the large dishes and share them, we shared some starters and have some smaller dishes to ourselves and were absolutely stuffed, whether that's portion size or jet lag I don't know, either way they paid and I was home by about 9:30 and ready for bed.

Sunday morning and I was getting up at 7 o'clock, unthinkable, but I had a viewing and a carfair to get to, this was going to be my best shot at finding a car for the right price. The viewing before was a nice place with one lady, she liked feeding the pigeons outside her front door which meant that they gathered there and harassed you, and she listened to country and western music... for fun. But the place was nice enough, not too expensive and I wouldn't have to buy a bed which was a big plus, she also give me a lift down to the fair which was about 5 minutes away so I wouldn't be late. She had only shown around one other person and would prefer me so she didn't have to live with a guy; so she went to the top of my list. The car fair was a massive success, they had a whole section for under $5,000 and I saw quite a few around 2000, although was quite surprised to see some very old cars(1994) hoping to get 3 and a half to 4, wishful thinking guys. I'd be interested to know if they sold for when I come to resell my car, I think I could get more for it then I paid, especially as the registration only has to be renewed yearly because it's from 2000; apparently backpackers like this and so are willing to pay slightly more. The guy selling the car told me it have broken down recently and so he had bought another car in the meantime and then fixed the problem so he just wanted to get rid of it, he was selling it for 1250. So not only was it a lot cheaper than most of the other cars it had recently been serviced and old bits replaced for new, we took it out onto the highway to check it would go up to 100 kilometres an hour without exploding and when I was satisfied, and the check came back saying it wasn't stolen and there were no massive debts on it, I bought it!!! My only issue is that it's automatic and only 1.3 l engine, not great for a country with lots of big hills, but I'm pretty much used to it already, there wasa bit of toing and froing changing the owner as I had an international licence and then sending the money as I didn't bring my card reader with me and didn't have data yet, but eventually we sorted it out and I came back home. Adulting level one succeeded. My last viewing was up on the north shore near the hospital that I'm going to be working at, this meant crossing the Harbour Bridge with the amazing view of Auckland CBD that I remember from 10 years ago. The place is setback in the bush and down a wicked driveway that reminds me of a holiday home we once had in France, you don't want to stall on that bad boy! It's a beautiful 4 bedroom house, a decent sized room with the loo right next door and two bedrooms downstairs who tend to use the bathroom. The other people living here are more my age and the landlords have a holiday home down the coast that they're trying to get me to already, so I agreed to take the room on the spot. (And I might head to that holiday home!) That night, I don't think I even made it to 8:30 before falling asleep, it had been a busy day.

My only job for Monday was to move into my new place so I quickly ran into town before my check out to see if I could open a bank account, apparently they're very busy and I couldn't get an appointment for a few days, so I thought I'd wait and do it at the branch near my new place. I did get a SIM card which means I have data, I didn't need a bank account or an address which is annoying as I would have got it on day one, I dread to think what my phone bill will be like after texting a lot of people about viewings etc from my UK number. I also got stung in a parking place as the machine didn't take cash and wouldn't accept my cards, by the time I found another machine it was charging me over the hour so I paid $12 for 45 minutes of parking. Needless to say my true Brit came out and I did a bit of shouting at the machine and may have called the car park a cunt. Check out with simple and I stopped at the supermarket on the way to my new place to grab some lunch stuff, and made my appointment with the bank for Thursday, who knew banks was so busy!? After unpacking most of my stuff I headed back to the shopping mall and into warehouse which is a wonderful shop, you can buy pretty much anything and most things in bulk. I bought a set of shelves where I could store my makeup and random bits and bobs and also a mirror so I have somewhere to do my makeup that isn't the little toilet. I then did a big food shop channeling my sister in planning breakfast lunch and dinner for the week, however I did have to count every cent as I went around as the money I had in my purse is all I have until I get my deposit back. My old landlord has at least been in touch and taken my bank details so hopefully it's on it's way, but I did give them to her on Friday and nothing has appeared yet; this is the only annoying thing about the time difference, for me it's end of day Tuesday where as she hasn't woken up yet so won't answer my text for a while.

I slept very well in my nice comfy bed and was trying to think what to do with my day when I looked out the window and saw it was raining, how bloody rude. After breakfast and lounging for a bit it cleared up so I jumped in my car and drove up the coast to go for a walk, I went to Parry Kauri Park and went for quite a muggy jaunt amongst the trees, the sounds and smells were beautiful. The rain had made the forest smell lovely and every so often patches of sunlight came streaming through the super tall trees, it did however mean I was absolutely baking by the time I finished my half hour walk, on my way back down I stopped in on the coast and sat in the shade looking at the waves enjoying the breeze. I also took a quick detour to Takapuna Beach which is my closest one to see what it looked like, the waves were immense and there were loads of people windsurfing, however it was still lovely and warm. I don't have anything planned for this evening and don't have a firm time frame on when I will start work so I may start planning a little excursion for the end of the week, even if it's only with my landlords to their other property.

[thefoolsloop]

Look like the innocent flower, but be the serpent under’t: SNM Shanghai, show no. 3

**(Spoilers for Cunning Man (Fulton), male new character and Hecate loops; but not for any 1:1s. Once again events have been altered and some content left vague. I have only given away things which I believe to be already common knowledge. Any spoiling, except where marked, is unintentional - if in doubt, do not read.)**

My third show did not happen.

Lost in a migraine mass of pain and vomiting, I lay the day out in my hotel room. My ticket sat unused and lonely. It was a sacrifice worth making, because I made it to the double with my energy renewed and only a shadow of pain cast occasionally across my right eye.

So, my fourth show became my third show, and so on. Having seen some of the vigour and humour Omar put into his Cunning Man role (I'm not sure if the character is called Fulton any more, but it's quicker to type Fulton, so I'll call him that), I was determined to spend a loop with him. His Claude was one of the towering achievements of TDM, his Fool was a sharp and innovative performance, and his William was one of the first ever characters I followed at Temple Studios. After a long and in-depth conversation with Omar at my previous show, it was only courtesy to look in on him (especially when it transpires we're from the same part of London).

So here I am, leaving the lift with another Ace in my pocket. I'm not sure where to find Fulton at the top of the show, but I eventually encounter him at the rep bar, where he's setting up a little celebration in a new scene which warrants some attention.

**SPOILERS FOR NEW SCENE - don't read if you haven't seen it, or it will lose its incredible impact. This part of the write-up is for those who have seen it, or who know they never will.**

(Dragon Boat in Hong Kong; photo from Chinese news service.)

The Dragon Boat scene, as it's becoming known, is perhaps the part of SNM Shanghai which most strongly reflects the influence of TDM. Here's the pounding beat and diminished lighting of Stanford's orgy; here are the masked figures of Frankie's initiation; here's the ritual humiliation of a character under the guise of bonhomie, as happened to Wendy in the birthday tent. Those who have just witnessed the beautiful and tender union of the new characters (see previous write-up) are shocked to see them mocked, bullied, their characters twisted and transformed, the man increasingly out of his depth, the woman changing in a moment from wallflower to party girl. And all this comes after Hecate has rendered the replacement to 'Is That All There Is?' - a substitution which horrified me on first discovery and now makes perfect sense in context.

(It’s only on my return that I’ve re-read the legend on which all this is based, and things are really starting to fall into place; who Fulton represents; the role of the wine and the medicine shop; the relationship between the Bride and Sexy Witch. I look forward to the day when enough people have seen the show that we can discuss these layers of narrative openly, because a lot of thought has gone into this, and it works so very well.)

The scene begins as shocking, progresses to amusing, and over time degenerates into chaos and horror of a sort only Punchdrunk can deliver (especially with all these layers of meaning). The Bride transforms from romantic figure into something more robust, then into a victim again as the Husband, ritually humiliated, suddenly finds his focus and attempts to rescue her from this dire situation. But Fulton intervenes, scoops the Husband up, drags him out of the rep bar, harasses him, hurts him, subjects him further to degradation. It’s a violent sequence, but it also contains a measure of slapstick which engenders an ambivalent response.

In his performance, Omar delivers his dialogue (occasionally revealing plot points) with vigour, with all the smugness of the bully who knows he can have his way and not be touched. “Good luck with your wife!” is his sneering parting shot. One laughs, in spite of oneself.

**SPOILERS ENDED - probably safe to look now; I’ll try to be allusive from here on.**

Fulton continues in his role as arch-manipulator as the loop progresses and he drags the Husband and Bride towards the other new scene which I can’t watch; but his transformation from landlord and shop owner to stand-in medical orderly suddenly makes sense. This time I know when the 1:1 is coming, so I charge forward and am the only person on site to be selected. But when I get into the room, things don’t go quite as I expected.

**SPOILER FOR A 1:1 HERE, SORRY. Again, little or no content is revealed, but it’s only fair that I flag it up.**

I know already that this isn’t a Fulton 1:1, because (a) I know from my previous show that he leaves the room immediately and (b) I’ve already had his 1:1 earlier in the show. It was a familiar one, since I had it in New York but with a different character - I still feel there’s a bit of work to be done with some of the 1:1s in Shanghai - but the level of concentrated aggression which Omar brings to it makes it more compelling than in the McKittrick. Anyway, here I am expecting a 1:1 with the Nurse. Miranda (yes, it would be) looks at me, does not touch my mask. It’s the same look of contempt she gave me all the way through my previous show. “Hmph!” she sniffs, finally, and walks out.

Strange. What’s going on? Then I realise there’s someone else in the room. Someone who is the real perpetrator of this 1:1. And it turns out to be a very beautiful experience, tender and gentle. Though, as usual, I can’t hear a word, so the performance is a bit wasted on me. Never mind; had I infinite shows I would certainly return and experience this again, just to make sense of its purpose within the loop. But for now I’m content with having had the moment.

**SPOILER ENDS - that’s definitely it now.**

I’d like to stay and watch the scene that follows this 1:1 because I caught a glimpse of it in my first show and it was wonderful. But I’m determined to try and pick up Fulton. I find him eventually and finish the loop, its early sequences helping me to make sense of what I’ve already seen. What a delight Omar is to watch - who knew, after his mournful William, his sinister Fool, his inhuman Claude, that he could do comedy as well?

As the new scene comes round again, I pick up Fania’s Hecate (another on my must-see list). She sings the new song directly to me, picking up my gaze from all the way across the rep bar. Like Miranda at my first show, she knows me instantly through the mask. It’s a song I know word-for-word and we lip-sync it together (can she see my mouth moving beneath the mask?). At the end, she moves away, knowing the ghastly sequence is set in place and can run without her. Since I’ve seen it before, and since I’m following her, I walk parallel to her to the side of the room. Then I realise she’s giving me The Look, which means a 1:1. I wasn’t expecting this, but I’m hardly going to refuse.

The 1:1 is very similar to one I had in New York. While Fania plays it less terrifyingly than when I experienced it before, the content has been revamped a little so that I’m still thrown off-guard. It remains one of the best 1:1s in the show - disconcerting, scary, challenging. I catch up with her not long after being ejected, in time to see her ‘marrying’ someone (I get to assist in the ceremony but not be the recipient - though, without ‘Is That All There Is?’ the scene has lost some of its impact).

Fania as Hecate is obvious casting but, as with her Bald Witch, where I had expected the iciness of the PA I witness something milder, something more human. The wig she wears as Hecate has some rather charming curls in it, which take some of the edge off any sharpness in her expression. This is not a demonic Hecate (as Shen Ni seems to be, from the regrettably few glimpses I see of her), it’s more a Hecate half-rooted in the anthropomorphic world. This greatly assists her delivery in the new scene, but perhaps makes her other moments less unsettling (naturally I don't get to see her in the rave, and when I decide to see Lily’s bar dance, to compare it with how she did it in New York, it’s Lily I’m concentrating on, not Fania). Still, a Hecate who’s at one with her victims, rather than looking down on them from a godlike view? That works.

I’m tired; although most of the pain has gone, I’m conscious that this is a double and I need to conserve energy. I drift a bit in the third loop, checking in on Olly’s Speakeasy, which is empathetic and comfortable, and also deliberately making it down to the ballroom to catch the party scene, now established as my favourite. Eventually it’s time for the finale. The impact of the denouement on the audience is striking: there are actual screams. Not just gasps, but screams. I’ve never heard that before.

While the role of Hecate has been downplayed a little from New York, the massive development undergone by Fulton has turned his character from also-ran to brilliant and compelling villain. I never get to see anyone else play it, because my last two shows are spent on other floors, but Omar has nailed it. If you go while he’s still there, his loop should be near the top of your list.