#that even though Daniel has declined in everyone elses eyes

[anjelicawrites]

Paring: Lestat de Lioncourt x reader

Synopsis: sick and tired as you are of Lestat’s treatment you decide to put your situationship on hold, until he comes for you. Inspired by the SDCC trailer.

Warnings: toxic relationship, kissing, p in v sex, blood drinking, biting, choking, clit pinching, edging, violence, butchering of the French language.

A/N: reader is AFAB. They/them pronouns used, but French is a gendered language, which forces me to decline the adjectives as feminine whenever Lestat uses them when referring to reader.

The bustling in the dressing room is doubled by the fact that there’s no space to move; the concert is due to start in no time and you are all still running about, trying to prepare the man of the hour, the rock star the people in the arena are cheering, whose name they’re screaming at the top of their lungs: The Vampire Lestat. The one and only.

NSFW and 18+ only please!

Your current walking, not breathing headache. The undead man you’re trying to ignore with all your might.

You had asked a colleague to do his hair and makeup these last few nights, even though you’re supposed to be his personal stylist, and threw yourself into working with the rest of the band as a revenge for the way he’s been treating you lately; you know you’re on borrowed time, that he’s letting you give him the cold shoulder that, if he truly wanted, you’d be still working on him, whether you liked it or not.

You almost crash in one of the documentary crew people: they swarm everywhere and are always in everyone’s general space, filming and asking questions. You try to lay low, do your job and then hide until the next concert, yet you feel like the journalist, Daniel Molloy, has his eyes trained on you behind his tinted glasses, and you don’t like it: Lestat has a rabid fanbase, if anyone had the inkling he’s fucking you (because to call whatever it is what you two have a ‘relationship’ would be an exaggeration), you’d have no peace.

Lestat has been a menace, more than his usual self, during rehearsal and in his dressing room, unhappy with the various options for the Halloween concert, changing his outfits too many times and now your colleagues are in a hurry to prepare him, hence why you’re here instead on your perch backstage, ready to do touch ups in between songs.

You ignore his stunning eyes as you bend to finish applying the last layer of powder on his forehead and nose.

“Ma choue.”

You can hear is deep voice in your head, almost snapping the small brush in a half in annoyance: he knows you hate it when he calls you ‘my cabbage’, it makes your blood boil that it’s supposed to be a term of endearment; who, in their right mind would call someone at least dear to them ‘cabbage’? Might as well call them ‘lettuce’ or ‘ tomatoes’!

“Tu me manques.” He continues, his face not betraying any emotion, while his hand moves sneakily to caress the inside of your tight; in your head his voice has taken that low timbre of when he’s deep inside of you, fighting his orgasm.

“Would that be all, Mr. De Lioncourt?” You ask, coldly, moving away from his grasp. “You don’t look like you need me.”

Your words echo his when he dismissed you, not longer than a week ago, right before the first day of shooting.

As used as you are to his mercurial moods, that day you were already angry with him, his careless words were the proverbial straw that broke the camel’s back and made you decide to put whatever the two of you have going on (“Still better than Twilight” a voice in your head keeps telling you) on an indefinite hold or, as indefinite as he’ll decide it’s going to be.

Before leaving for the backstage, you let one single thought ring through your mind, positive as you are that he’s listening:

“Fuck you Lestat! The only thing you miss is my blood!”

To everyone else his face betrays no emotion, you’re used to read in between the lines with him and the twitch of his mouth tells you there’s going to be hell to pay: you’ll burn that bridge when you’ll get there, if ever, now it’s your time to be an asshole, and have fun while you’re at it.

You run into the dressing room swearing under your breath: how in the name of all is holy and sacred you forgot one of the foundation sponges here? You didn’t even use it on Lestat!

In a hurry you start rummaging through all the crap and garbage your colleagues and Molloy’s crew have left around: between your crazy work hours and the concerts dates being so close to one another, you don’t have the time to buy a new one and you find yourself hunting for this stupid one that’s finished God only knows where.

“Looking for this, ma choue?”

You turn around too fast, whipping the muscles of your neck painfully to look at Lestat, who has closed, and locked, the door behind his back and is leaning against it, pink sponge in his hand.

You know he’s fresh off the stage after the third encore, the pinkish red of perspiration is staining the dying makeup and collar of his elaborate shirt.

“I should have known you had taken it.” You growl back.

“What should a man do when he’s been ignored?” He says nonchalantly. “You left me with no choices, ma belle.”

Instinctively you start looking for a way out of the small room, knowing all too well there’s only the door, and that he stands on your pathway out of here and towards the safety of your hotel room.

“Perhaps, a man, should ask himself why he’s been ignored.”

You square your shoulders, yet your insecurity is betrayed when you start pinching the inside of your right arm, where he’s first bitten you.

The wound has healed nicely, the scar remains, too small to be truly noticed if not for the constant redness of your picking at the skin there.

You remember when he first drank from you, so many months ago when you still believed the whole ‘Vampire Lestat’ persona was just a stage play; he had looked at you with those eyes, mesmerizing, whose color you couldn’t truly name, making you feel like a lamb would in front of a hungry wolf, right before gently grabbing your uncovered arm to bite the delicate skin and drink enough blood to make you feel dizzy on your feet.

“And what did a man do?” He asks, advancing like the predator he is, as if he owns the room hell! The entire building.

You try to stand your ground, shoulders squared, legs firmly planted on the floor: the bridge is here, you might as well go down swinging.

“Oh, I don’t know, treat me like a blood bag and demean me in front of the cameras?”

Two days before your personal bombshell, he had complimented the taste of your blood, and responded a second too late, when you had bluntly asked if he looked at you like he would a steak, then the whole ‘Do I look like I need you?’ incident had happened: the proverbial icing on the cake.

To be absolutely clear, you don’t expect anything from him that is not great sex (narcissist or not, he knows how to show you a good time and not having to breathe to live helps when you’re going down someone) and a bit of consideration.

“Oh, that.” He stands in front of you, impossibly tall, cutting off any escape route. “Would you like me to apologize publicly? Perhaps in front of the crowd tomorrow?” He mocks you.

And you fall for it: hook, line and sinker.

“Don’t you fucking dare!” You growl, invading his personal space, as if you’d ever pose a threat for him.

In a second you find yourself against the wall, arms stretched over your head, your work bag on the floor.

“What would you do, ma choue, how would you stop me?”

You’re so angry you’d kill him with your mind, if only you could!

Uselessly you try to kick him, squirming in his light hold, until he’s plastered against you with your legs around his trim hips.

“Let me go, now!”

That wins you a laugh, a low rumble against your chest: he knows that you know that he loves when you fight back, that your fascination with him doesn’t stop your fiery spirit to burn bright, like a light in the darkness.

“Why would I do such a thing?” His lips leave butterfly kisses all over your pulse point. “After scheming to have you here. That would be most stupid, wouldn’t it?”

Slowly, seductively, his hips grind against yours, his erection already pushing against your core, almost forcing a wail of need from your lips: even angry you missed the liquid need pooling in your belly as soon as your bodies are near, how his touch would ignite your desire and burn any reasoning to keep him away.

“I hate you so much!” And you both know is a lie.

“Then why can I smell how ready you are for me, ma petite?”

You let your head slam against the wall, baring your neck to his fangs, now tracing a path of goosebumps leading to your collarbone and heaving breasts.

You squirm against him, not trying to evade him, but because you need him desperately: you want to tear his clothes off his body and fuck your rage and pent up desire until you are both spent on the filthy carpet of the dressing room.

The words almost leave your mouth, when knocking on the door, followed by the voice of your fellow make up artist stops you, and him.

“Are you coming or not?” She asks from the corridor. “I need to shower! Come on!”

“I’m on my way!” You shout back, your desire retreating as your brain reminds you of the way he’s been treating you.

Lestat eyes you with a smirk on his lips; for a moment you think he’ll not let you go and blow your illicit relationship for the whole crew to see. His eyes seem to shine as he stares into yours, searching, searching as you wonder, again, what color they truly are.

“Saved by the bell.” He murmurs in your ear, letting your shaky legs off from around his hips. “Off you go, ma petite lapinou. You’re not going to be as lucky the next time.”

You’re still trembling as you grab your bag and rush to your friend, cursing yourself for being so weak in your resolve.

As per your contract you, and the other two make up artists, are supposed to share the hotel room to kill the costs for the whole production; the rest of the crew does the same, while the actual band members have rooms for their own, usually in a better hotel than the one chosen for you all.

The wandering life you have all chosen has changed those plans: in fact you have the hotel room all for yourself, since one colleague is in a committed relationship with one of the sound technicians (they always crash together), the other is in a situationship with a girl from Molloy’s crew; the relationship is even more toxic than whatever you have going on with Lestat, yet the two always bunk down together.

You don’t mind having all the space, and the bathroom for yourself: you love the quiet after a concert and before you are all on the road again.

You exit the bathroom, your skin still warm after the shower. You hear the TV on in the background, not giving it much attention: it’s just white noise to keep you company as you dry your hair and decide what to wear to go out with some colleagues.

“Now, what is this?”

You screech in surprise and almost slip on your ass.

“Are you out of your fucking mind? Why are you here?! I’m naked!”

Lestat looks at you from the armchair where he’s sitting, long legs encased in skin fitting leather and a white shirt half unbuttoned to showcase the hard planes of his chest you’re trying very hard not to ogle.

“You haven’t answered my question, ma petite lapinou.”

He’s holding your Taylor Swift pink T shirt, showing it to you with a frown on his brow.

Him and Taylor, better, the respective fan bases have this crusade going on, sniping at each other: the swifties being absolutely rabid whenever one of Lestat’s songs is higher in the charts or his tours sold out faster than hers. Taylor has published another remastering of her latest album and Lestat responded with new songs that beaten her to the top: it’s an ongoing messy feud and Lestat loves throwing jabs at her and her fans in his interviews. Thank God he has no control over his X and Instagram accounts.

All of this considered, you bought it before your fallout with him, as a prank: you thought about appearing in his hotel room clad only in that to see how he would react, and reap the benefits. You deciding to withdrew from the ‘relationship’ killed that idea; you have been using it to sleep.

“It’s a T shirt.” You answer.

“That I can see.” He says reigning in his annoyance at your pretend ignorance. “I have never pegged you as a fan of mademoiselle Swift.”

“With the things you don’t know about me, you could build a ladder from here to the moon.” You shrug your shoulders, hoping he’s not snooping in your mind right now.

He throws the T shirt in the general direction of the bed and spreads his legs even more, the outline of his bulge clear against the tight fitting leather.

“Going somewhere, ma petite?”

His voice is a low rumble that goes straight to your core.

“Yeah.” You feign indifference. “Out with some people, have fun. I have decided I’m going to play drunk trick or treat.”

He’s not wearing any makeup now, he looks like a carved marble statue come to life, yet you can see curiosity etched on his beautiful, alien features.

“I am not, comment tu le dis, privy to this particular brand of trick or treating.”

You tighten the towel around your head, you’re going to need it.

“It’s pretty simple, actually. I go out, get drunk and fuck the first person I meet. Having an orgasm, finally, is going to be my treat. It has been too long.”

In a heartbeat you find yourself slammed against the wall. You should be used to his inhuman speed, yet he’s managed to knock the breath out of your lungs again.

Your ears are ringing, the towel having done a poor job at shielding your head from a hard knock against the wall: one of these days you’ll get a concussion. How fucked up is it that you’re accepting your fate so calmly?

Your vision swims as your eyes try to focus on his face, now contorted in rage: Take that asshole, you think.

“Who would be the lucky candidate, ma petite?” He growls, his hand finding home around your throat. “Perhaps one of Molloy’s subordinates? Or one of the sad men drinking themselves in an early grave in the hotel lobby?”

“Anyone would do.” You spat back, despite the pressure of his hand. “You wouldn’t know how to find my clit with two hands, a flashlight and a neon sign pointing at it!”

For a second his hold is too tight, cutting off your air supply completely: is this how you die?

The thought flies out of your head when you find yourself on the bed, coughing and trying to absorb as much air as your poor lungs can manage, Lestat between your splayed legs: you have gotten to him, to his pride and possessiveness. Revenge tastes so sweet, knowing you can slither under his skin the same way he does with you.

“Ouch!” You whine when he strips you of the towels, uncaring of the cotton burning your skin.

“Two hands, a flashlight and a neon sign, is that what you said ma belle pute?”

You try to push him away, fruitlessly: he’s far too heavy and strong for you, even if he were a human man, yet you trash under him and try to go for his eyes, like a cat, until two of his long fingers pinch your clit cruelly.

You cry out in pain, arching under him in the vain attempt to escape your punishment.

“I hate you so fucking much! I wish I could put a stake through your heart and see you die!”

He doesn’t move for a second; he truly seems a marble statue, Bernini’s masterpiece, betrayed by the shining of his eyes.

You scream when his fangs pierce the delicate skin of your neck, and his cock slams into you.

The pleasure is a wave that engulfs you and your senses. You don’t know where you are, who you are, you’re only feeling his heart beating to the rhythm of yours as his hips meet yours, again and again, fast and hungry in the desperate pursuit of his own end.

You can’t plant your feet on the mattress, too taken by the impossible high you’re experiencing, all of your senses drunk on him and on the pleasure burning through you, the tight band in your belly snapping, forcing another scream from your lips.

You whine when his fangs leave your neck.

Through the roaring of your own blood in your ears, you can ear his moans of pleasure when the pain of your nails in his back finally register in his brain. Through hooded eyes you look at his beautiful face, now marred by the red of your blood, his pupils so enlarged you can’t see the color of the iris.

He’s still hard inside of you, not pounding away anymore his hips have taken a sensual, slow rhythm, meant to savor the warmth your body provides.

He kisses you when you try to say his name, your taste, metallic and heady in your mouth, pushes you into a frenzy he doesn’t let you follow, forcing you to go slow and feel the way he owns your body.

You arch your spine when he starts kissing your neck and chest, unhurried and possessive, his cockhead finding your G spot to bully it again, to feel your walls clamp again around his erection, too slow to throw you into the throes of another orgasm but enough to keep you on the razor’s edge, your moans and keens music to his ears.

You buck under his weight when his skilled fingers find your center again, massaging your bud with slow, deliberate motions.

“Two hands.” He groans after a vicious push. “A flashlight and a neon sign, n'est-ce pas? Then why are you moaning, ma belle?”

You grab his arms, needy and desperate for the end he’s denying you, embarrassed by the squelching sounds your cunt makes around his cock.

“Anyone would do.” He spats in your face, pinching your clit cruelly, to enjoy your whines of pain and how your body squirms under his.

You want to beg for mercy, scream how sorry you are but his devious fingers have rendered you speechless and thoughtless, mad for an orgasm he’s denying you with a cruel smile.

His forehead meets yours, now that the pace is slow. He’s switched to French without truly realizing what he’s doing, too lost in feeling your muscles clench and massage his cock: he’s missed your body, something you must never know.

His tongue finds the bites on your neck, licking lazily at the blood still spilling as his hips pick up the pace again, grinding cruelly against your puffy clit, drunken words of appreciation fall from his lips when your cunt wounds so tightly around his cock, forcing him in deeper and deeper, the fullness blanking your mind to his words and to the world around you.

You shatter like crystal again, forcing him over the edge as well, your combined screams of pleasure reverberating against the cheap walls, his breaking the table lamp on the desk.

Your cunt milks him of all he can give and robs him of his strength; it’s a miracle he manages to pull out and fall by your side, unfocused eyes trained on the chipped ceiling.

You hear him stretch luxuriously next to you as you try to find the strength to go to the bathroom and deal with the mess of blood and semen he’s left on your body.

Your legs wobble when you stand and the room spins as you bend to retrieve your Taylor Swift T shirt fallen on the floor, after your ‘activities’; you hear him say something in French, his voice a low purr and you can feel his eyes trained on your naked arse.

“Shall I remind you I have taken Spanish in high school?” You say, wobbling to the bathroom as you feel his come slide down your legs, ignoring how he grabs his shirt to wipe the excess of blood on his face.

When you come back he’s still laying in bed, smoking, arms spread on the headboard as if he owns the place.

“This place is horrible.” He says, as if you had chosen it yourself. “Sincèrement affreux."

“Your tour manager picks the place for us, which means that you did.” You retort, sliding in bed to put your head on his naked shoulder. “This one isn’t so bad. The clown themed one was worse.”

“Clown themed?”

He wants to know more, but you’re already asleep, out like a light; he can hear the whooshing of your blood through your veins, now that your heartbeat has calmed into your usual tattoo.

Without waking you up, he kills his smoke and tries to make himself comfortable on the lumpy mattress: perhaps that’s why you have been in such a bad mood lately. He will look into it as soon as he wakes up from his slumber: he’s going to be famished and his tour managed looks delicious.

[alwaysonthemend]

Author’s Note: Hi guys! Can't believe it's been so long since I last posted. Hope you guys enjoy this one! As always, if you see any typos... no you didn't

Warnings: Fem!reader, drunk Jake (alcohol), unprotected p in v sex, cock warming, fingering, hand jobs, doing things we shouldn't in a public place, cussing, partying. 18+ ONLY. MINORS DNI

Word Count: 5k

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Late has already bled into early by the time you manage to spot Jake in the crowd again. His back is to you as he speaks excitedly to someone you’ve never seen before – though there’s a definite chance that Jake hasn’t either (he’s a chatty drunk no matter how well he knows the person). 

Tonight is a celebration of sorts. A celebration of what is to come and what they've already done. With tour on break for the holidays, the Kiszka-Wagner clan had been taking some much needed R&R after such a long and grueling schedule of shows before they have to leave again. The first few days had seen Jake lounging at home, perfectly content to spend his days entirely wrapped up with you. You had binge watched some shows that he’d missed while gone, ordered take out from all the places that he’d been craving, and over all spent almost every minute of the day within each other’s company. 

But Jake is a man who likes action – regardless of how much he enjoys spending time at home with you. After a few weeks of nothing, you can tell that he’s itching to be doing something again. First there had been simple dinner gatherings with your immediate friends and family, then jam sessions with the rest of his brothers that had lasted well into the night, and then finally he’d begged to go to this party tonight. Josh is hosting (no doubt he’s experiencing the very same restlessness that his twin is) and a party hosted by Josh is always a sure fire promise of a fun night. 

So you’d happily agreed and given Jake the go ahead to let loose tonight – party as hard as he wanted for however long he wanted and you would be there to drive him home. His eyes had lit up at your offer before he’d given you a sweet kiss and a murmured thank you before scampering upstairs to call Josh and let him know that you two would be coming. 

But as excited as Jake had been to go out tonight, he’d still periodically found his way back to you, begging you to come join him where the music is the loudest. You’d politely declined him each time, wanting to give him time to spend with his friends and brothers after giving so much of his time to you. You know that his offer is genuine. Jake wants you by his side at all times (he’s a clingy motherfucker even when he’s sober) but you had simply told him you would prefer him to go spend time with everyone else instead. He’d begrudgingly agreed and you’d since been spending your time watching him go from sober to tipsy and finally to actually drunk within the span of the last few hours. You liked watching him like this – smiling and carefree amongst the people that he loves (along with a number of people that you’re pretty sure Josh only invited because he likes a full house). 

But the crowd has dwindled as the early hours of morning approach. It’s nearing 3AM now and only some 15 people remain. You’d been parked in a far corner for the past hour or so but you’re pulled from your spot by Jake calling your name. He, along with Josh, Daniel, and Sam, have made their ways over to the couches and chairs in Josh’s living room and consequently collapsed into them. The core group you like to call them, finding each other to close the night out amongst themselves. There are others still left elsewhere – some faces vaguely familiar and some completely foreign to you, but they’re all far too wrapped up in their own conversations and drunken storytelling to notice that the host and family has moved somewhere else. 

Josh sits in one of the loveseats, one arm lazily thrown around the shoulders of his partner – also suitably drunk, who’s nuzzled into his side. Sam sits in another chair, cheeks flushed and hair a complete mess as he pours himself another drink. You know already that he’d say he’s earned it since he’s spent the night “slaving away” as the party DJ. That leaves Daniel and Jake left to find their seats, Daniel finding his place on one end of the sofa and Jake on the other. You make your way to them – each of the boys exclaiming excitedly at your approach. 

“Y/n!” Josh booms, the sheer loudness of him drowning out the others and startling his poor partner, “Gracing is with her presence at last!” 

You giggle as you make your way to the sofa, eyeing the spot between Jake and Daniel. 

“Now that you all seem to have settled down a bit I thought I would join you.” 

As you make to sit down, Jake’s hands find your hips and guide you instead to sit down on his lap. He sighs contentedly as you surrender to him without a fight, easing down on the tops of his thighs and settling your back into his chest. 

“Hi.” You tell him, twisting as much as you can in his lap to turn and see his face. His cheeks are flushed and a yummy sheen of sweat adorns his neck and temples. Eyes dark and lips looking particularly plump, you press a kiss to the corner of his mouth. 

“Hi there.” He answers back. “Missed you.” 

He smells like alcohol and weed – a combination that seems to have left him feeling particularly touchy as his hands settle themselves possessively on your waist. He’s warm against you, the feeling of his chest rising and falling against your back lulling you into a relaxed state as he falls effortlessly back into the conversation with the rest of the boys. His words rumble in his chest and you take the opportunity to lean your head back into the space between his neck and shoulder. The smell and heat of him sets off some carnal, feral part of your brain and you find heat of your own pooling between your thighs. You ignore the feeling, opting instead to try and focus your mind on the conversation at hand. 

“-and so I told him that he would either have to sleep there or find someone else to take him home because I wasn’t doing it.” Sam’s voice wafts through the air. You’ve got no idea what he’s talking about but you have a sneaking suspicion that he probably isn’t all that sure of what he’s saying either. 

“You’ve always been a little punk ass.” Josh interjects, giggling a little bit at his own words. “Since you came out of the womb.” 

Sam meets him with a scowl. 

“I just learned from the best, actually.” He snarks back, though there’s no real heat behind his words. 

“Don’t talk about Danny like that.” Jake’s rumbling voice interrupts and though you can’t see him, you can hear the grin as he speaks. “He’s a wonderful influence, Samuel.”

Danny laughs heartily, tossing his head back as he does so. Josh smiles like he’s just won a prize and Sam only meets Jake with an eyeroll. 

“I was talking about you two.” He says, pointing between the twins. 

They continue on with their bickering and you do your best to keep up with them. The few remaining guests filter their way out one by one, giving thanks to Josh on their way out. The boy’s conversations weave in and out, jumping from topic to topic as they often do. It's hard to keep up, especially as your focus strays from the conversation to the uncomfortable kink in your back from sitting in this position against Jake’s chest. You shift a little bit, settling down further in his lap to ease the feeling. As you shift, a hiss escapes him and his hands tighten on your hips. 

“Angel.” He whispers, tilting his head down to press his lips closer to your ear. “Careful.” 

You can’t help the way your eyes widen and your core pulses at his tone. His words are rough and ever so slightly slurred. His fingertips dig into the meat of your thighs in a way that makes you dizzy with a sudden want for him to take you right here in front of everyone. 

“Something wrong?” You answer him back, turning your head and capturing his lips with yours. Alcohol and weed and Jake hit your tastebuds and you shift once again in his lap. 

“Something’s hard.” He murmurs against your lips. 

And he is. 

You can feel him now, hot and solid against your ass. It sends your blood boiling and your cunt clenching around nothing. 

You exhale shakily, willing your voice to remain passive and unbothered. 

“Poor baby.” You say, turning back away from him and earning yourself a growl from deep in his chest. 

“Jake stick you with being DD for the night, Y/n?” Daniel asks, causing everyone’s eyes to shift towards you and Jake. You can feel him tense behind you. He’s still rock hard against you and everyone’s eyes on him only serve to make him more excited as he tries to play it cool. 

“I offered.” You answer Danny, dropping your hand onto Jake’s thigh. “Plus, he’s a handful to deal with even when I’m sober.” You squeeze his thigh. “So I figured I’d lay off the alcohol tonight.”

“Oh he’s something alright.” Josh supplies, grinning ear to ear at his brother. You worry suddenly that he knows somehow. Freaky twin thing and all that, especially given the Cheshire smile he shoots your way. But he looks away and back to the others quickly and you dismiss the idea. Freaking twins.

Conversation divulges again and the attention falls from you and Jake. But he’s worked up now and there’s no way he’s letting you off the hook that easily. Sober Jake is a horndog… drunk Jake is damn near insatiable. 

“Play nice.” Jake warns you, his voice just barely loud enough that you can hear it. “Don’t wanna have to punish you.” 

That finally makes your breath stutter and halt in your chest. Jake can feel you still against him and he chuckles. 

So the game begins. 

Wordlessly, you shift your weight and slide your ass across his crotch. Jake bites his lip and his eyes blaze as he watches you settle your rear onto the sofa next to him with an innocent smile. With your legs draped across his hips (still keeping his hard on from being seen by everyone in the room) you’re free now to settle into his side. You’re playing a dangerous game messing with him like this but the new position allows for you to press your calf into the growing bulge beneath his dark jeans and for your hands to settle on his midsection. Deceivingly innocent to others but filled with possibilities to tease him. Jake knows this though, and those dark eyes of his are pinned to you, lust-blown and dangerous as his breathing picks up. 

You look away and do your best to turn your attention back to the group. Jake does the same, but the feeling of his hard dick against your calf is proof enough that he’s still more than distracted. 

As the conversation carries on, you do your best to interject every now and then to at least pretend to be interested. But you’re more interested in taking Jake home and devouring him. But you suppose the waiting will only make the reward sweeter in the end. Jake, for his part, seems to be feeling the very same. His eyes dart to your face periodically, heavy lidded and carrying the weight of how much he wants you right now. But even with the lust coursing through the both of you, he still looks at you whenever he makes a joke (making sure he’s succeeded in making you laugh) and his fingertips absentmindedly drum songs and beats onto your shin. As worked up as he is, his sweetness still seems to outweigh the alcohol in his system. It just makes you want him more. 

Bored with waiting and ready for him to say it’s time to go, you delicately trace your fingers across his midsection. You press your fingertips into the soft flesh of his sides as you keep your eyes trained anywhere but him. Jake cocks his head to look at you, his tongue darting out to wet his bottom lip as you shift your leg and rub your calf across him. Half-hard still, his body tenses. His hand finds yours on his belly and he stills it, grip tightening in warning. 

Not satisfied with his reaction, you press your leg down again and this time his spine goes ramrod straight as his hips buck up on their own to meet the feeling. 

That’s one point for you. 

“Why are you trying to start shit?” He murmurs, taking a sip from the glass that he’d just refilled. 

“Because I can.” 

“Because you’re desperate.” The last word comes out as an almost growl. 

You shake your head. 

“I’m not anything.” 

“You think I can’t tell?” He asks you, his head tilted down and gaze trained solely on you. You scan the rest of the group, afraid that they’ll hear whatever filth is about to spill from between his plump lips. Thankfully, they’re all far too engaged with their own conversation to notice what’s going on between you and Jake. “Your cheeks are flushed all pink like they get when you’re horny.” He starts, fingers trailing up from your calf to your thigh. “And you're breathing fast. Like you do when you’re wet.” His fingers go higher still and your thighs clench despite yourself. 

He wins the point this time and you can’t help the little sigh that escapes you. 

“Maybe I’m just tired of waiting.” It’s all you can think to say – the lust fogging your brain and making it impossible for you to come up with a witty retort. You want him. Now. 

“You’re going to have to wait a while longer.” 

“Why?” The question is reminiscent of a young child. Whiny and full of demanding petulance at his refusal to take you home and fuck you this instant. 

“Because someone,” he shifts his hips slightly, “made me rock fucking hard. And I can’t get up like this right now. Not with all them” his eyes dart to the group, “sitting right there.” 

You huff a breath. 

“Please.” 

He hums and places his glass on the table next to you. His own control is cracking under the weight of your heavy gaze (and calf that's teasing his dick relentlessly) and you realize with glee that you've gotten what you wanted. 

“Gentlemen,” he starts, clapping his hands down on your legs and interrupting one of Josh’s long-winded stories. “I think we’re going to call it a night. The missus is getting tired.” He grins at you and you flush even more. 

“Leaving without helping clean up?” Josh demands, extracting himself from his partner’s grip and rising to his feet.

“Oh, always.” Jake answers him, words still slightly slurred. “But you’ve got these fine young gentlemen here to help you.” He gestures to Sam and Danny who both groan but stand up with Josh anyway. 

As they begin busying themselves with picking up glasses and paper plates, you raise your legs from Jake’s lap and stand. He follows you – though he teeters dangerously once he’s on his feet. 

“Easy.” You warn, wrapping an arm around his waist and helping him balance. 

“I’m fine.” He laughs, but his steps remind you of a baby deer trying to walk. 

As the two of you make your way outside, you both hiss as the cold of the night hits you. You press yourself further into Jake’s side. As you reach the car – parked all the way by the road, you make to open the passenger door for Jake but he pulls you into a kiss first. 

His tongue plunges into your mouth and he groans as you grant him easy access. Despite the cold, your body thrums with the heat of your arousal. Jake’s hands are sloppy as they caress every inch of you he can get – your sides, your tits, your ass, everything. As you reach up to tangle your hands in his hair he leans his full body weight against you, pressing you into the side of the car and caging you there. You can't quite tell if it's just so he can keep you where he wants you or because he can't stand upright any longer. Either way, wetness floods your panties at the feeling of his body pressing into you. Solid is the only word you can think of to describe him. 

“Jake.” You moan as his lips trail down to your neck, the heat of his mouth a delicious juxtaposition to the frigid wind. He’s relentless, drunkenly nipping and biting at your skin in all the ways he knows you like. “Jake, quit.” You tell him, even though it’s the last thing you want him to do. 

“Why?” The question is muffled by your skin, his lips never leaving your throat. 

“Get in the car. It’s cold as fuck.” 

He pouts but he straightens up and removes himself from you and you ignore the ache in your belly at the loss of contact. Jake’s fingers wrap themselves around the handle of the door but not of the passenger seat. Instead, he opens the door to the back and raises an eyebrow at you. 

“Jake.” 

“Y/n.” His tone matches yours mockingly, his eyes glittering. 

“It’s freezing.” 

“So let’s warm up then.” 

You try to fight it. You know you should. You’re out here where any one of the neighbors could look outside to see what’s happening if they look hard enough. If Josh looks outside and sees your car still here there’s no doubt that he’ll know what’s happening. Sam and Daniel are spending the night and are probably drunk enough that they’re already passed out but who knows if one of them might happen to look out a window. 

But the ache between your legs has grown nearly unbearable and you don’t want to wait any more than Jake does. And as you watch him clumsily climb into the back seat and lean himself back against the opposite door you know that any shred of resistance you had is gone. 

“You’re drunk.” You scold, unwilling to admit defeat even as you climb into the car with him and shut the door behind you. It’s freezing in the car and your teeth chatter slightly as you settle in. 

“Quit fussing.” He tells you, spreading his legs and pulling you in to settle between his thighs. “Don’t wanna have to wait.”

At that – at the pleading, whiny way he says the words, you cave and crash your lips back to his. His hands find your sides again, squeezing possessively. Your own hands find his shoulders as you attack his mouth with yours. The kiss has no real finesse, all teeth and tongue, but it’s perfect. Jake is moaning beneath you with every pass of your tongue and you realize with no small amount of excitement that the alcohol in his system has taken away any ability he had to hold all those noises in. He’s always vocal. But this? This is like Heaven to your ears. 

His hand drops to the waistband of your pants and his fingers dance along the skin there before slipping beneath. His fingers are cold as they graze over your clit through the fabric of your panties. His middle finger presses in, applying just the right amount of pressure as he begins to rub in little circles. You moan loudly into the kiss and his answering groan tells you all that you need to know about how into this he is. 

“You’re soaked.” 

You nod, head falling back and mouth dropping open as he pushes your panties aside and circles your swollen clit even faster. 

“Take these off.” 

You obey, sitting backwards and toeing your shoes off before sliding your pants off your legs. It’s cramped and clunky in the confined area of the car but Jake watches you like it’s still the sexiest thing he’s ever seen. Your shirt is next, discarded carelessly into the floorboard as you paw at his own shirt, desperate to see more of him. Jake lifts his arms and pulls his short off, the fabric joining your clothes as well. 

No matter how many times you see him like this, you still can’t help but be amazed. He’s glorious before you, all milky skin and soft curves that make you want to bite him. His arms flex as he pushes his jeans down, the strength of his biceps and forearms the perfect balance to the rest of him. Without pausing long enough to think about it, you drop low and sink your teeth into the supple flesh of his side. 

He cries out in answer, arching his back and head falling back with a thud against the window. 

“Y/n. Fuck.” He whines and you take his moment of surprise to palm him through his boxers. He hadn’t been lying earlier when he said he was hard as a rock. Even through the fabric you can feel the heavy heat of him. 

You trail your mouth down to the waistband, licking along the skin there before grabbing it with your teeth and pulling them down, allowing his cock to spring free. You sink lower still, intent on enveloping him in the warmth of your mouth but he stops you with a hand in your hair. 

“Wait.” He sighs out breathlessly, causing your eyes to flick to his questioningly. “Not gonna last if you do that.” He grins sheepishly and you laugh. 

“Who’s desperate now?’’ You ask him, echoing back to his taunt from earlier. 

“It’s your fault.” 

With that, he sits up and surges forward, slamming his lips to yours again and pushing you backwards. He settles on top of you, his cock resting against your ass cheek. The movement had taken much effort, his drunken limbs just a little too clumsy for finesse and grace and you both laugh a little as you settle. Finally, he pulls your panties all the way down and you whine as the cool air hits your wet center. 

“Jesus.” He murmurs, those dark eyes of his devouring the sight of you beneath him. “Been waiting for this all night.” 

He sits upwards, gripping his cock in his fist as you spread your legs for him. The car is small, your back shoved into the corner and your head cocked at an odd angle. But none of it matters as he finally slides himself into you. You cry out, hands reaching out to grip his shoulders. His groan is deep and rough as he bottoms out and pauses, allowing you a moment to adjust to the familiar stretch of him. 

“Move.” You beg him, hooking your legs around his hips and using your heels to dig into his ass and pull him closer. 

He plants both hands on either side of you, fingers digging into the leather of the seats as he starts to rock his hips. His brows tip upwards and his eyes fall closed as you clench around him helplessly. 

“So fucking tight.” He slurs, hips snapping into yours deliciously. The air between the two of you is thick – humid and warm enough that the windows have begun to fog up completely. 

“Harder.” You whine and his body trembles and shakes as he tries to follow your command. 

His mouth drops open and a loud moan escapes him as he picks up his pace slightly. His arms tremble where they fight to keep himself up in this position and you giggle softly at him. 

“Switch with me before you fall over.” You urge him before tossing your head back with a moan as his cock brushes against that special spot inside of you. Even drunk off his ass he can still find it with ease. 

“Fine.” He huffs, pulling out of you and settling back into his earlier position with his back against the door. “Sorry.” He mumbles, giving you a drunken little grin. 

“S’okay.” You tell him, climbing over his thighs to straddle him. “Can watch you better this way anyway.” 

He preens a little at that, cheeks flushing a dark red as you grip is cock in your hand and guide the head to your entrance. You sink down and whine as this position allows him to slip even deeper into you than it had before.

You roll your hips and moans punch out of both of you. He always feels so fucking good – but having to wait so long for it tonight has only made it even more rewarding now. His hands grip your ass, kneading into the flesh and guiding your pace. His eyes are half lidden as he watches you and sweat begins to bead at his hairline. The look he’s giving you – hair a mess and mouth dropped open, is a familiar one. It’s one you’ve seen on his face countless times; both as he’s fucked you and as he plays his guitar on stage. It’s enough to have the coil in your belly begin to tighten already. 

“So fuck’n beautiful.” He moans lowly, his eyes pinned to where your tits bounce with each roll of your hips. 

You whine and lean downwards, kissing him roughly as his hips begin to thrust upwards to meet yours. You can tell that he’s losing it beneath you – his focus torn between trying to kiss you and trying to match the rhythm you’ve set. He’s pussy drunk and actually drunk and the thin bit of control he has left is starting to break. 

He uses his grip on your ass to guide you upwards, pressing your breasts into his face. His lips lock around one hard nipple as one hand comes up to palm the other one. He moans louder still, the sound muffled against your tit. The feel of him… he’s everywhere in this cramped car and all of your senses have been completely overtaken with just Jake. 

“Please.” He whines, detaching his mouth from your nipple with a wet pop. “Wanna feel you cum on my cock.” 

His teeth dig into his bottom lip, his face contorting in pleasured agony as he holds himself back, waiting for you to finish first. You toss your head back and cry out, his cock hitting your sweet spot as you ride him into oblivion. The noises falling from him are barely human – rough and broken in a way that lets you know that he's completely overtaken with the pleasure of it all. Your orgasm finally hits you, seeming to start at your toes and work its way all the way through you. Your body shakes as you ride it out, walls fluttering and clenching around his cock. Your moans are only interrupted by cries of his name as he fucks you through it before finally your brain manages to come back to reality to take in the sight below you. 

Jake – drunk and fucked out with his eyes pleading up at you. 

“Gonna fucking cum, Y/n.” He thrusts up once, twice, three more times before he’s losing it. His head thrashes and curses fall from his lips like prayers. It goes on forever, his body tensed up and legs shaking on either side of you as he spills his release into you.

Finally, his body relaxes and stills. And his beautiful eyes blink open to look at you. A dopey and satiated smile spreads across his lips. You can feel his cock where it’s still inside you softening, but neither of you really want to move yet. 

“You’re so pretty.” He says with an alcohol-drenched smile. 

“And you’re still very drunk.” You giggle, kissing him softly. 

“I don’t have to be drunk to be able to see that you’re pretty.” He answers with a slight pout. Even inebriated he’s not going to let you run from a compliment. His ability to still recognize those little insecurities that you still have, no matter how much he’s had to drink, makes you smile softly down at him. 

“You’re pretty too.” 

He flushes and opens his mouth to retort but it’s cut off with a hiss as you pull off him. You reach down to grab your phone where it’s been discarded on the floorboard with yours and his clothes and the screen lights up enough to make you squint your eyes.

Two notifications await you. 

Josh 4:27AM

you guys okay? 

Josh 4:34AM

in my driveway?? :( 

You can’t help but laugh at the message before clicking your phone off. The windows have completely fogged up now so there's no denying your guilt to Josh.

As you turn back to face Jake, his eyes have closed and he looks almost asleep. 

“Hey.” You smack his chest and he startles, making you laugh even harder. “Get dressed so we can go home.” 

He groans and sits up, eyes looking glassy but still wearing a satisfied smirk.

“Round two once we get home?”

“If you can stay awake that long.”

“Challenge accepted.” 

--------

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[quoteablebooks]

Genre: Fiction, Adult, Romance, Contemporary

Rating: 3.5 out of 5

Content Warning: Sexual content, Medical trauma, Medical content, Chronic illness, Body shaming, Infertility, Fatphobia         

Summary: Stacey is jolted when her friends Simon and Emily get engaged. She knew she was putting her life on hold when she stayed in Willow Creek to care for her sick mother, but it's been years now, and even though Stacey loves spending her summers pouring drinks and flirting with patrons at the local Renaissance Faire, she wants more out of life. Stacey vows to have her life figured out by the time her friends get hitched at Faire next summer. Maybe she'll even find The One.

When Stacey imagined "The One," it never occurred to her that her summertime Faire fling, Dex MacLean, might fit the bill. While Dex is easy on the eyes onstage with his band The Dueling Kilts, Stacey has never felt an emotional connection with him. So when she receives a tender email from the typically monosyllabic hunk, she's not sure what to make of it.

Faire returns to Willow Creek, and Stacey comes face-to-face with the man with whom she’s exchanged hundreds of online messages over the past nine months. To Stacey's shock, it isn't Dex—she's been falling in love with a man she barely knows.

Another laugh-out-loud romantic comedy featuring kilted musicians, Renaissance Faire tavern wenches, and an unlikely love story.

*Opinions*

I had heard about the Well-Met series a couple of times, stating that they were fun romances that were interconnected with the Renaissance Faire in Willow Creek. When the reading challenge I was doing this month needed a book with the word ‘game’ or ‘play’ in it, I figured this was a great time to jump in and see what all the fuss was about. I had a great time with Stacey and the rest of the players in Willow Creek, but the book was missing something to make it something that will make me remember it in a couple of months. 

Well-Played follows Stacey, a permanent fixture at the Willow Creek Renaissance Faire for four weeks every summer. While Stacey loved the Faire, she feels as if every other part of her life has stalled out. She lives in an apartment over her parent's garage, she is a receptionist at the dental office, and while everyone else on social media seems to have grown up and gotten out, Stacey feels stuck. During a night of feeling bad for herself, and a couple of glasses of wine later, she emails her fling from the Faire in the hopes that they might be something more. To her surprise, he messages back and they spend the eleven months between the Faire season getting to know one another in a very personal way. The problem is that she isn’t talking to who she thinks she is on the other side of the screen. Can a relationship survive that was started on such shaky ground or will Stacey find that she is just as stuck in Willow Creek as she always thought she would be?

I almost wished that the summary of the novel didn’t give away the twist that Stacey was not communicating with Dex via email and text. Because I already knew that it wasn’t Dex, I was just waiting for the eventual blow-up over the untruthfulness on Daniel’s part. Thankfully, Stacey figured it out before she embarrassed herself, but I would have liked to figure it out alongside her. The fact that it was found out so early made me hopeful that the third act stressor would be external and not miscommunication, but alas I was disappointed in that regard. Nothing that happened in the novel was overly annoying, but I found myself wanting something a little more again and again while I was reading. 

DeLuca does a good job of characterizing that feeling of familial obligation versus wanting to take care of the people that you love. Both Stacey and Daniel deal with this, though it is more obviously a burden on Stacey. She gave up her prospects after college to take care of her parents after her mother’s rapidly declined. However, now she feels as if she is stuck in Willow Creek, unable to leave because what if her mother becomes sick again? As someone who works in a healthcare adjacent field, the trauma that lingers after any sort of health crisis is not something that is talked about enough, especially if the sick individual pulls through. People are expected to just be fine because the patient is fine, which is not realistic. However, even what Daniel was dealing with in terms of his cousins and always being on the road, no matter what he wanted, is something that a lot of people can relate to. I think that was well handled throughout the novel, especially the way that it is resolved at the end in Stacey’s case.

The relationship between Stacey and Daniel was very cute, but I think that she forgave him far too quickly every time he messed up. While I hate the miscommunication troupe and am happy that they talked about what happened, Stacey needed to be mad at that man for a little longer. He lied about pretty important things multiple times and after like two days she is like “I forgave him but I don’t know how to reach out and say that”. Girl, no, but mad a little longer, please? I did appreciate that Daniel was so respectful when she said “I need space” he gave it to her and while he said his peace after each argument, he was also willing to leave her alone if that is what she wanted. As a woman who would be so embarrassed she would die by grand romantic gestures, a man who is respectful of what a woman says is so much more sexy. That being said, there was nothing about their relationship that I will remember after this book is over. 

Overall this was a nice read and I am interested in reading the rest of the companion novels, but not memorable. However, sometimes a fluffy romance with some sex scenes is what you need. This is a 3.5-star read rounded down to a 3. 

[diegos-butt]

Unnoticed (chapter four)

Summary: He had watch her grown up. He had seen her transform into a beautiful woman, with a strong will but insecurities. Despite being away from time to time, he had fallen for her, hard. She on the other hand, had seen him become a big, strong man. But deep down she knew he had a soft side. She had fallen, hard, for him too. Another thing they have in common? The believe that the other will never feel the same. Will their feelings for each other always stay unnoticed?

Captain Daniel Syverson x Kathy Davis (plus size/curvy/thick OFC)

Warnings: attempted winking, filthy thoughts. Just the usual guys, no worries.

Wordcount: 5.9k

A/N: I hope you like this ✨

chapter one / chapter two / chapter three

•••

I had been trying to distract myself all week after the little incident with Sy. Yes, I had declared it as a little incident, and I had been avoiding talking about it. Which, obviously, failed since I didn’t show up for the Friday night dinner at the pub, so my phone had exploded with texts from Brianna, Holly and even the guys. I assured them I was fine and I just had a headache.

Brianna and Holly didn’t buy it and they came to visit me on Saturday. They tried to tell me Sy didn’t meant what he said, that he just had misphrased his words. I really wanted to believe them, but the self-doubt in me wouldn’t allow it.

The week passed slowly, I kept myself busy with work and chores. On Thursday I had literally finished all my work for the week, so Brianna insisted I’d take a day off from work the day after.

“Seriously Kathy, you are going to take a day off tomorrow. Relax a bit. Talk to Sy. Clear the air,” Brianna said as I walked inside her office for no reason for the fifth time that day.

“Fine, I will take a day off, but I will not talk to Sy,” I answered and sat down in a chair in front of her desk. But maybe I should? He has been texting me every day. Maybe I should hear him out?

“Look, if you don’t talk to him tomorrow, I will make sure it happens this weekend. And I’ll be there. I doubt you want to discuss your feelings for him with me next to you,” Brianna smirked. The minx.

“You’re threatening me now?” I laughed but I knew she was dead serious. “Maybe, maybe I will talk to him tomorrow, okay?”

“It is not a yes, yet, but I’ll do for now.”

Soon after our conversation ended, we both went home. Feeling restless, I spend my Thursday night cleaning the house. That did mean I had the entire Friday to do nothing, to relax and sleep in. Well, that’s what I thought.

I woke up to the loud ringing of my doorbell. Confused I sat up, I wasn’t expecting anyone. Slowly I walked to the front door, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes. I unlocked and opened the door to see a large man in front of me.

“What are you doing here?” I asked Sy.

“Good morning darlin’, Brianna told me ya had a day off so I thought we could have breakfast,” he said and held up a basket filled with different kinds of bread, fruit, and other delicious food.

Even more confused I kept staring at him. He cocked his eyebrow and gestured me to let him in.

“Oh, yeah sorry, come in,” I muttered and let him walk past me. Suddenly I realized I was in my pyjamas, a cami top and shorts. It was a little revealing, but since I grew up with him, he had seen me in my bikini multiple times, so I didn’t care.

I watched Sy march into my kitchen and unloading the basket on the small table. He stood with his back to me, and I nearly drooled. That ass is illegal. Really fucking illegal. That back also. God, it just begs me to leave scratch marks with my fingernails on it.

Sy coughed and I realized I had been staring a little too obvious. Feeling my cheeks heat up, I walked towards him.

“Having breakfast is nice, but why on earth did you have to show up this early?” I pointed at the clock on the wall.

“It’s not early. It is already 8.30am,” Sy said and pulled out a chair for me. I sat down, and his fingers grazed my shoulders softly.

“That’s early. Especially on a day off. I’m allowed to sleep until 10am, at least.” I yawned excessively and watched Sy sat down opposite of me. He chuckled and poured me a cup of coffee. “You even brought coffee?”

“Figured ya needed it, to wake up,” he said and poured a cup for himself too. I took a sip, and it was delicious. Immediately I felt a little more awake, and a bit more aware of how I looked. I placed the cup down again and tried to fix my hair the best I could.

Sy had started eating, so I did too. We ate in silence, and I tried to make eye contact with him, but he kept looking away.

“Sy, why are you here?” I asked after we finished eating. I hated arguing, but I hated not expressing emotions even more. Kind of ironic, I know.

“Well, I think this not speaking to me thing of ya has lasted long enough,” he started. “So, I thought we could talk about it. And since ya let me in, and haven’t scratched out my eyes, I think ya wanna talk too.”

I took the last sip of my coffee and pushed a piece of pineapple around on my plate. “Yeah, I guess.”

“Good,” Sy said softly. His eyes met mine and for a second, I thought I saw he was a bit scared. What the hell are you scared of?

“Okay, maybe I have overreacted a bit. Maybe,” I whispered.

“And I should have phrased my words differently. I like being around ya and I prefer your company over everyone else’s.” He grabbed my hands and held them tight. My heart skipped a few beats and a smile formed on my face.

“I like being around you too captain,” I smiled. “But maybe don’t phrase your words like that again, okay?” He squeezed my hands one more time and let them go again.

“I’ll try my best darlin’,” he winked. Well, he tried to wink. I snorted out loud and nearly knocked the coffee cup off the table.

“You’re really doing this on purpose now don’t you?” I said and wiped a tear away that was rolling down my cheek. “You’re really so stubborn you’re not going to admit you can’t wink?”

“Be careful darlin’, you’re quite stubborn yourself,” he laughed and stood up to clear the table. I helped him and together we placed the dirty dishes in the dishwasher.

“So, what are ya plans for today?” Sy asked while he was leaning against the counter.

“I don’t have plans honestly, you?”

“I was planning on helping my momma in the garden. Ya wanna help?” he said. I thought I could sense an undertone of uncertainty, but it was gone the second the sentence was over. Spending the day with you. In the garden. While you’re probably going to sweat. Oh god what if he takes his shirt off. Kat, keep it together.

“Yes, of course! I just need to get dressed, I’ll be back in a second,” I said and started to walk away but turned around as I heard Sy speak up.

“No need darlin’, ya could wear this,” Sy smirked.

“Very funny captain.” I shook my head and walked out of the kitchen, but before I was out of the room, I looked over my shoulder. I caught Sy looking at my ass and licking his lips. Quickly I looked in front of me again and walked to my bedroom, giggling. Please tell me I am not just seeing what I want to see. He really checked me out right?

I quickly freshened up and got dressed. I wore a pair of jeans that accentuated my ass even better. If he’s gonna stare at it, might put them of their best display.

Sy was waiting for me on the couch, he stood up as soon as I walked in the room. He smiled at me and followed me to the front door. I locked up behind us and he guided me to this truck. Sy opened the door for me, and gratefully I climbed in.

During the short drive to his parents’ house, we talked like nothing had happened. I was happy about it; I wasn’t one to keep hanging on to the past. Soon, he parked the car in front of the house. We stepped out, only to meet his parents.

“Kathy! Sweety, how lovely to see you!” Sy’s mother said and gave me a kiss on my cheek.

“It’s really nice to see you too!” I said and nodded at Sy’s father. You could easily tell they were Sy’s parents. He had his mother’s eyes and nose, while he had his father’s physique.

“I would love to chat with you, but we are on our way to meet some friends. We will catch up soon, okay?” Sy’s mother continued.

“I thought we were gonna work in the garden?” Sy asked, and I could see the visible confusion on his face. I might be crazy but are his parents trying to set us up now too?

“Yes, but Jane called if we would like to have lunch. Who are we to decline such a lovely offer? But you and Kathy could work in the garden!” she said, and I noticed Sy’s father walk towards his car. Was he laughing?

“Come sweetheart, let’s go,” Sy’s father said and held the car door open for his wife. She gave Sy a kiss on the cheek and stepped in the car. Sy’s father did so too and started the car. Before he drove off, Sy’s mother opened her window. “Have fun you two!” she yelled and winked at us. Definitely trying to set us up.

“At least your mom can wink,” I deadpanned.

“Oh, shut up,” Sy groaned, and I laughed out loud. He turned around and walked around the house to the garden, I followed close behind.

“So, what do we need to do captain?” I asked Sy as we walked into the large garden. Most of it covered with grass, the areas on the outside were filled with different types of flowers and plants.

“We need to remove the weeds between the plants and flowers,” Sy said and walked into the little shed to collect some tools for us to use.

After an hour of working hard, pulling out weeds, I started to get a little tired. Sy and I didn’t talk much while we worked side by side. I did look at him from time to time. I watched his big arms pulling the weeds out effortless and I noticed he had started to sweat a little. The sight of it made me nearly faint. Sy also let out a few grunts every now and then. Are you trying to make me jump you Sy?

“You want something to drink?” I asked Sy as I was starting to get a bit thirsty. Not only thirsty for something to drink though.

“Yeah, thanks darlin’,” he answered and wiped the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand.

I nodded and stood up. I proceeded to walk to Sy’s cabin, which was practically hidden in the far back of the garden between trees. I wasn’t even three steps away from Sy when I stepped on an uneven patch of grass. My ankle twisted and before I knew it, I was on the ground.

“Ouch!” I murmured and grabbed my ankle.

“What did ya do?” Sy said as he kneeled beside me. He placed one of his hands on my shoulder and looked at me worried.

“Just sprained my ankle, it’s no big deal,” I said. Sy held out his hand for me and helped me get up. I hissed in pain when I tried to stand on the sprained ankle.

“Yeah, right, no big deal uh?” Suddenly Sy lifted me up bridal style, and I let out a squeal.

“Sy, what are you doing?!” I clasped my arms around his neck, worried for a second, he might drop me, but then I remembered he was more than capable of carrying me.

He didn’t answer me, he just placed me on one of the lounge chairs and walked inside his parents’ house to grab a pillow from the couch. In mere seconds he returned and placed the pillow under my sprained ankle. He had also bought back two bottles of water and handed me one.

“Ya stay here and let that ankle rest for a bit. I might not be able to wink, but you can’t walk apparently,” he mocked.

I laughed and watched him walk away, to finish our work in the garden. While sipping from my water I admired him. His shirt now sticking to his body from the sweat, accentuating his physique even more. That man sweating and grunting above me? I might not survive that. Not that I would complain though. Maybe we should start with a kiss. Oh my god I wanna kiss him so badly. Is he licking his lips? Sy don’t fucking tease me.

After 30 minutes of me obviously checking out Sy, he stopped working. I guessed he was finished. His eyes locked with mine and we both smiled. He walked over to me, and I sat up a bit straighter.

“How’s that ankle doing?” he asked.

“Oh, it’s alright. It doesn’t hurt so much anymore.”

“How can ya know when ya haven’t stood on it since it happened?” Sy cocked his eyebrow. He did have a point, but I wasn’t one to admit I was in pain.

Sy held his hand out for me, I took it and he helped me stand up. Once I stood on both feet again, it was obvious my ankle still hurt.

“Ya are clearly not in pain anymore,” Sy pointed out and chuckled. “Come on, I’ll wrap it for ya. I have an emergency kit in my cabin.” Next thing I knew I was in his arms again, bridal style.

“Sy! You know I can walk!” I yelped and wrapped my arms around his sweaty neck. “Also, you’re sweaty.”

“Ya can’t walk with that ankle. And don’t pretend ya mind I’m a bit sweaty darlin’, I saw ya staring at me.” I felt my cheeks burn and was lost for words for a moment.

Sy carried me inside his cabin, he even managed to open the door while still carrying me. He walked inside his bedroom and placed me on his huge bed. He went into his bathroom and returned with the emergency kit.

“Come here,” Sy said and kneeled in front of me, placing my foot on his knee. He carefully started wrapping my ankle with a bandage. His large hands managed to make my foot look small in his hand, and I let out a giggle.

A few minutes later he was done. He stood up again and pointed at my jeans. They had grass stains on it from my fall. “If ya want, ya could wear some of my sweats,” he offered.

“Very nice offer captain, but in case you haven’t noticed, my ass won’t fit into those,” I smirked.

“Yeah right, I have a big ass too,” he huffed and turned his back to me to wiggle his ass.

“Oh, you do, you really do. But mine is still bigger,” I laughed. Sy shook his head and a playful smile formed on his face.

“I wouldn’t mind helping ya change into my sweats though, maybe they’ll fit with my help,” Sy smirked.

“You’re just trying to get me out of my pants or what?” I laughed. I could tell he wanted to say something, but he shook his head again and grabbed to emergency kit. He walked inside the bathroom, leaving me alone on the bed.

I reached down to touch my ankle. He had wrapped it nicely. I was about to retrieve my hand when I bumped into something underneath the bed. Curious about what it was, I grabbed it. It was a box I had never seen before. I hesitated to look inside, but then the lid popped open. My letters were inside. The letters I had send him while he was away. He kept my letters? Underneath is bed?

A cough caught my attention, and I saw Sy standing awkwardly in front of me.

“You kept my letters?” I asked him, still a bit surprised.

“Yeah, I did.”

“Why?”

“Because I like them. I like reading them. They are kinda comforting,” he said and scratched the back of his head. I could tell he was a bit uncomfortable. “I sometimes read them before I go to sleep,” Sy continued.

“That is really sweet Sy,” I said and stood up. Quickly his hand grabbed my elbow, to make sure I wouldn’t have to stand on my sprained ankle. His eyes locked with mine, and suddenly my heart was beating faster than ever before.

We stood in front of each other, unsure of what to say next. Awkwardly, I looked at the ground until he lifted my chin up with his finger.

“You know what? Fuck it. Kat, darlin’, would ya like to go on a date with me?”

The whole week was dreadful. Ever since Friday I felt like an idiot, and everyone told me so. Friday night dinner at the pub was not she same without her. As soon as I had finished my meal, I went home. I had hoped she would’ve showed up so we could talk it out. Unfortunately, she didn’t. Kat also didn’t answer my calls or messages. I hated texting, but I tried it anyway.

Working with the guys had been quite annoying the last few days. They used every opportunity to call me out of my actions and told me I just had to go see Kat. They thought she would talk to me if I’d just show up. I had thought about it, and Tuesday late in the afternoon I drove to her house. I waited in my truck but when she came home, I could tell by her movements she was not in the mood to talk. Sighing, I drove back home.

Now, on Thursday, I was starting to get fed up with Kat still ignoring me. I promised myself I would go see her tonight. That was until I got a call.

“Brianna?” I answered the phone.

“Sy, hi. Thank god you picked up,” Brianna spoke.

“Why wouldn’t I pick up?”

“You never pick up, but never mind. The reason I’m calling is Kat, obviously,” she continued.

“Is she alright?” I asked.

“She is fine but could do better. That is actually why I’m calling. I think it is time you two talk this thing out.”

“I’ve been trying, but she wouldn’t answer my calls or texts. I’m gonna go over tonight.” I mean, I should, right?

“Good! You definitely should go see her. You know how stubborn she can be,” Brianna laughed. “But I just tried to talk some sense into her, and I think she is ready to talk to you. She is taking the day off tomorrow, so maybe you could see her then?”

“Yeah sure. Thanks for calling Bri.” After we said goodbye, I hung up the phone. Guess it’s better if I go see her tomorrow, maybe we could spend the day together?

The next morning, I woke up early, really early. I twisted and turned in bed, but I couldn’t sleep again. I wanted to see Kat and talk it out. She couldn’t stay mad forever, right? With a groan I climbed out of bed and took a shower. While I was showering, an idea popped up in my head. Maybe I could surprise her with breakfast?

Satisfied with my plan, I quickly got dressed and went into the kitchen to search for breakfast food. I opened the fridge, and noticed it was nearly empty. Shit. Luckily, I knew I could find everything I needed in my momma’s kitchen.

A few minutes later I stood in the kitchen in my parents’ house, a small perk of living in the cabin in the garden. Hopefully, I would have a house of my own soon. I better make this right with Kat if I wanna buy a house with her.

“What are you doing honey?” I heard my mom’s voice behind me while I had collected a nice pile of food.

“Uhm, grabbing breakfast,” I answered.

“That’s a lot of food for one person, even for you. Spill it,” she said with a stern voice.

Knowing my mom, I knew she would keep me here until I told her the truth. “Made a mistake, so I’m gonna make it right.” She simply raised her eyebrow as she handed me a basket to place the food in. “Fine, I need to make something right with Kat.”

“Ah, I see. Well, you better make it right indeed if you ever intend on marrying her,” she spoke while she helped me fill the basket. “I like that girl, and so do you honey. Don’t mess it up with her, would you?”

After a monologue from my mom why I had to make it right with Kat, I finally managed to leave the house and drive to Kat’s after I promised to help her in the garden later that day. A little nervous I parked the car in front of Kat’s house. I stepped out and grabbed the basket, slowly I walked to her front door. What if she doesn’t want to see me?

I rang the doorbell and knocked on her door. Well, I don’t care if she doesn’t wanna see me, we are gonna talk this out right now. If she wants or not. The door opened, and a very sleepy Kat appeared in front of me. She looked adorable while she rubbed the sleep out of her eyes.

“What are you doing here?” she asked me.

“Good morning darlin’, Brianna told me ya had a day off so I thought we could have breakfast,” I said and held up the basket filled with different kinds of bread, fruit, and other delicious food. Confused she started at me, I cocked my eyebrow and she stepped aside to let me in.

“Oh, yeah sorry, come in,” she muttered, and I walked past her. She was in her pyjamas, a little cami top and shorts. Ya teasing me on purpose? I tried to not stare at her cleavage too much as I was passing her. I wanted to take her in my arms, and let my hands wander over her body. To prevent myself from grabbing her right there, I walked into the kitchen and unloaded the basket on her little table.

After I was done, I turned around and saw her eyes were glued to my back. With a simple cough, I gained her attention again and she walked up to me. Was she checking me out?

“Having breakfast is nice, but why on earth did you have to show up this early?” Kat pointed at the clock on the wall.

“It’s not early. It is already 8.30am,” I said and pulled out a chair for her. She sat down, and I couldn’t resist to touch her shoulders softly. Just let me place kisses all over ya soft skin darlin’.

“That’s early. Especially on a day off. I’m allowed to sleep until 10am, at least.” She yawned excessively. I chuckled and sat down opposite of her. I grabbed the thermos and poured her a cup of coffee. “You even brought coffee?”

“Figured ya needed it, to wake up,” I said and poured a cup for myself too. We both started eating, in silence. I could tell she was looking for eye contact, but I wasn’t quite sure of what to say yet, so I kept avoiding it.

“Sy, why are you here?” she asked after we finished eating. Well, here we go.

“Well, I think this not speaking to me thing of ya has lasted long enough,” I started. “So, I thought we could talk about it. And since ya let me in, and haven’t scratched out my eyes, I think ya wanna talk too.”

She took the last sip of her coffee and played with a piece of fruit on her plate. “Yeah, I guess.”

“Good,” I whispered. Do I tell her what I feel now? Or are we gonna play pretend for a little longer?

“Okay, maybe I have overreacted a bit. Maybe,” she whispered.

“And I should have phrased my words differently. I like being around ya and I prefer your company over everyone else’s.” I grabbed her hands and held them tight. Her large hands felt good in mine, like a perfect fit. A smile formed on her face. Okay playing pretend for a little while longer it is. I didn’t want to ruin something when I wasn’t sure she felt the same, but I wasn’t sure for how long I could keep this up.

“I like being around you too captain,” she smiled. “But maybe don’t phrase your words like that again, okay?” I squeezed her hands one more time and let them go again.

“I’ll try my best darlin’,” I winked, well knowing I couldn’t. I knew she would laugh about it. and I was right, she snorted out loud and nearly knocked the coffee cup off the table.

“You’re really doing this on purpose now don’t you?” she said and wiped a tear away that was rolling down her cheek. “You’re really so stubborn you’re not going to admit you can’t wink?”

“Be careful darlin’, you’re quite stubborn yourself,” I laughed and stood up to clear the table. She helped me and together we placed the dirty dishes in the dishwasher.

“So, what are ya plans for today?” I asked while leaning against the counter. Ya better have none.

“I don’t have plans honestly, you?”

“I was planning on helping my momma in the garden. Ya wanna help?” I asked. I wasn’t sure if she would want to help, but I just wanted to spend time with her without it being forced or feel awkward.

“Yes, of course! I just need to get dressed, I’ll be back in a second,” she said and started to walk away. Get dressed? Ya better don’t wear more than this. I’d prefer ya clothes on the floor.

“No need darlin’, ya could wear this,” I smirked. A little teasing wouldn’t hurt, would it?

“Very funny captain.” She shook her head and walked out of the kitchen. I watched her walk away, admiring her ass and thinking about how I’d want to slap it. Wait, did she just saw me staring at her ass? Oh, who cares. She has a nice ass, so I am obliged to look at it.

I waited on her couch, and a few moments later she returned. She wore a tight pair of jeans, hugging her figure and making her behind look even better. Her ass would look better naked though.

She smiled at me as I stood up and followed her to the front door. She locked up, and we walked to my truck. I opened the door for her and helped her get in.

While chatting, I drove home. It felt like nothing ever happened, which I was glad about. After a couple of minutes, I parked the car in front of the house. I immediately saw my mom and dad come out of the house. Oh no.

“Kathy! Sweety, how lovely to see you!” My mom said and gave Kat a kiss on her cheek. She better not embarrass me in front of Kat.

“It’s really nice to see you too!” Kat answered and gave my dad a nod. My parents had always liked Kat, and they had told me many times. At one point, I thought my mom would force me to marry her. Not that I would mind marrying her.

“I would love to chat with you, but we are on our way to meet some friends. We will catch up soon, okay?” my mom continued. They did not have any plans today. Are they trying to set us up now too?

“I thought we were gonna work in the garden?” I asked confused.

“Yes, but Jane called if we would like to have lunch. Who are we to decline such a lovely offer? But you and Kathy could work in the garden!” she said, and I noticed my dad walk towards his car. Was he trying to supress a laugh?

“Come sweetheart, let’s go,” my dad said to my mom and held the car door open for her. She gave me a kiss on the cheek and stepped in the car. My father started the car and wanted to drive off, but my mom opened the window before he could. “Have fun you two!” she yelled and winked at us. Oh, come on.

“At least your mom can wink,” Kat deadpanned.

“Oh, shut up,” I groaned, and Kat laughed out loud. I turned around and walked around the house to the garden, Kat followed close behind.

“So, what do we need to do captain?” she asked me as we walked into the large garden. Most of it covered with grass, the areas on the outside were filled with different types of flowers and plants my mother had planted over the years.

“We need to remove the weeds between the plants and flowers,” I said and walked into the little shed to collect some tools for us to use.

@We worked next to each other for the next hour. We didn’t talk but, it was comfortable. I watched her whenever she couldn’t see. She looked pretty, as always. She licked her lips every now and then, almost like she was begging me to kiss her.

“You want something to drink?” she asked and pulled me out of my thoughts. Yeah, I’m thirsty but not only for a drink darlin’.

“Yeah, thanks darlin’,” I answered and wiped the sweat from my forehead with the back of my hand.

She nodded and looked at me. She walked to my cabin, but before she could reach it, I saw how she twisted her ankle and fell.

“Ouch!” she murmured and grabbed her ankle.

“What did ya do?” I said as he kneeled beside her as fast as I could. One of my hands found its way to her shoulder, the other hovered above her ankle.

“Just sprained my ankle, it’s no big deal,” she said. I held out my hand for her and helped her get up. Immediately, she hissed in pain when she tried to stand on the sprained ankle.

“Yeah, right, no big deal uh?” I spoke. No way she was going to walk right now. She needed to give her ankle some rest. I lifted her up bridal style and she let out a squeal.

“Sy, what are you doing?!” She wrapped her arms around tightly around my neck. If ya wanna choke me, let’s do that in a different situation darlin’. I might let ya.

I didn’t feel like she needed an answer to her question. Instead, I placed her down on one of the lounge chairs. I quickly walked inside afterwards and grabbed a pillow from the couch. I also grabbed two bottles of water from the fridge. When I came back, she was still seated on the lounge chair. Good girl. I was afraid she might have tried to stand up again.

“Ya stay here and let that ankle rest for a bit. I might not be able to wink, but you can’t walk apparently,” I mocked. She laughed, and I walked away to finish the work while chugging down the bottle of water.

It was hot and I started to sweat more and more. I wanted to take a nice, cold shower. Maybe I could persuade her of taking the shower with me? Shaking the thought off, I focused on pulling out the weeds.

After 30 minutes I was done. I had noticed Kat had been looking at me the entire time. That has to be a good sign, right? I looked at her and our eyes met, quickly I walked over to her.

“How’s that ankle doing?” I asked.

“Oh, it’s alright. It doesn’t hurt so much anymore,” Kat answered.

“How can ya know when ya haven’t stood on it since it happened?” I cocked my eyebrow. She hadn’t stood up since I had laid her down there, there now no way she could know the pain was gone.

I held my hand out for her. She took it and I helped me stand up. Once she was on both feet again, it was obvious that she was still in pain.

“Ya are clearly not in pain anymore,” I chuckled. “Come on, I’ll wrap it for ya. I have an emergency kit in my cabin.” I picked her up in my arms again, enjoying having her close to me.

“Sy! You know I can walk!” she yelped and wrapped her arms around my neck. “Also, you’re sweaty.”

“Ya can’t walk with that ankle. And don’t pretend you mind I’m a bit sweaty darlin’, I saw ya staring at me.” She gasped, and I chuckled. I carried her inside my cabin and sat her down on my bed. I walked into the bathroom and grabbed the emergency kit.

“Come here,” I said and kneeled in front of her. I gently grabbed her foot and placed it on my knee. I started to wrap her ankle carefully with a bandage. Her ankle was a little swollen, but it would be fine.

Soon, I was done. I stood up again and noticed the grass stains on her jeans. “If ya want, ya could wear some of my sweats,” I offered.

“Very nice offer captain, but in case you haven’t noticed, my ass won’t fit into those,” she smiled.

“Yeah right, I have a big ass too,” I huffed and turned my back to her to sway my ass.

“Oh, you do, you really do. But mine is still bigger,” she laughed. I laughed and shook my head.

“I wouldn’t mind helping ya change into my sweats though, maybe they’ll fit with my help,” I smirked. I really wouldn’t mind helping ya out of those jeans.

“You’re just trying to get me out of my pants or what?” she laughed. Yes. Fuck yes. I shook my head, grabbed the emergency kit, and walked back inside the bathroom.

I started in the mirror and noticed my sweaty face. I grabbed a washcloth, and quickly washed my face. Keep it together Sy. Or maybe I should just tell her. Maybe I could just ask her out? Don’t tell me she looks at me like that and not feel what I feel.

With a boost of confidence, I walked into the bedroom again. Kat is still on my bed, but this time she is holding the box with her letters. She was not supposed to find those. I coughed awkwardly, and she looked up.

“You kept my letters?” she asked me surprised.

“Yeah, I did.”

“Why?”

“Because I like them. I like reading them. They are kinda comforting,” I said and scratched the back of my head. “I sometimes read them before I go to sleep,” I continued.

“That is really sweet Sy,” she said and stood up. Seeing she was unsteady on her feet because of her ankle, I grabbed her elbow. Our eyes locked, and my heart skipped a beat. I thought I saw hope in her eyes.

We stood in front of each other, unsure of what to say next. Sy, it’s now or never. Just fuckin’ ask her. She was looking at the ground, so I lifted her chin up with my finger, making her look at me.

“You know what? Fuck it. Kat, darlin’, would ya like to go on a date with me?”

•••

> chapter five

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[theartisticintrovert]

Case #0130403

Statement of Jason Gale, regarding the strange occurrences surrounding Daniel Fenton. Original statement given 3rd April, 2013. Audio recording by Jonathan Sims, Head Archivist of the Magnus Institute, London. Statement begins.

--

I wanna start this by saying that I barely knew Danny. I don’t know how he became what he is, but what I did see, well...I still have nightmares. I guess I should start at the beginning, though I’m not really sure how much of a beginning there is.

I never had the greatest home life. Pretty textbook, really. Shitty dad, dead mom, bad friends, the works. I ran away when I was fourteen, fell in with a real bad crowd. I’d been in and out of juvie every few months, but I didn’t meet Danny until I was sixteen. I’d been picked up at the scene of a robbery, don’t even remember where, and sent off to Amity Youth Detention Center. I’d been there for about three months when my old cellmate got released, so I was on my own for a bit. I didn’t mind, D Block wasn’t exactly the worst it could get.

Danny transferred in a few weeks later. At first, I didn’t think much of him. He was tiny, barely 5’4 I think, and he looked like a twig. His eyes, though.....his eyes were what scared me the most. They looked dead, like someone sucked all the life outta him, just leaving his corpse walkin’ around like some kinda zombie. They sent him in and he just.....stared, watching Officer McCarthy leave like he was already planning the poor bastard’s funeral. I freaked out a little. I’m not ashamed, kid was fuckin’ scary.

That’s when it happened. It’s like something snapped in him. The room got all cold, and the lights started flickering. He shoved me up against the wall and I dunno how but it felt like this.....predator staring at me. I don’t even remember what he said, but I just agreed to whatever it was so he’d stop staring at me. I swear his eyes were green, but it had to just be a trick of the light. It had to be, because I remember they were blue. I remember, because I remember thinking how weird it was for an Asian kid to have blue eyes.

Still, when he got mad......I swear to you, they were green.

Sorry, I got a little.....off track there. There were a few more weird things about him, but just little things. He never ate, and I know it wasn’t that he was eating when I couldn’t see him. AYDC has scheduled meal times for every block, and every single time it was D’s turn he just....stayed in bed. There’s no getting in or out once the door’s locked, so he wasn’t sneaking around. And yet, even after about a week and a half of this, he was fine. No complaining, no hunger pains, not even a little bit of nausea. Like.....like he didn’t need food. I asked him about it, but the answer, well.....I think he was a bit nutty. Everyone was in there. 

I managed to get him into the cafeteria one time, though not for very long. I think Emily, that is, Emily Grey, scared him off, but I can’t be sure. I do remember though, that the others felt it too. Danny was.....he had this like, aura of despair. Like you get near him, and nothing you do will make you feel again. Owen Coulter said he “felt like depression, if depression was a person”. I only remember that because it was so strange to hear a twelve year old say that with the knowledge that only an old man has, but there it was anyway.

He got transferred a few days later, or....I assume he was transferred, anyway. I heard he’d finally gotten his trial, but he didn’t come back after. I can only assume they sent him to F, because I didn’t see him for several months after that. I’d honestly just been starting to feel okay again when he came back to D. I only really noticed him because we were in the yard at the same time, and something in me wanted to turn around and bolt the second I spotted him. Still, he seemed.....different. Less angry, less......snappish. I noticed a few new scars on him too, which was strange just because the inmates at AYDC aren’t allowed any electronics, so how the hell did he get electrocution scars?

The next big one happened after he was released. He’d been out for about a week when I got a visitor. This was news to me, since my old man doesn’t give a rat’s ass about me and my friends wouldn’t be caught dead in a juvie visitation room. Only visitors I really got were my lawyer and sometimes my stepmom, but she didn’t come often. She doesn’t like me much, but that’s beside the point. When I saw Danny on the other side of that glass window, I about turned around right there. Unfortunately for me, the door was already shut and I couldn’t get anyone to open it, not from my side. Fuckin’ bastards probably stepped out for a donut break, who knows. The point is, Danny was....different. 

His scars curled up both of his cheeks now, pale and prominent against his sickly brown skin. His eyes seemed a little sharper now, a little more aware. I wasn’t entirely sure this was a good thing. We argued a bit, but....I think he was genuinely trying to help. I didn’t trust him a damn bit, but at least he was trying.

I’ve been dancing around the point long enough, I think. Sure, the kid’s weird, you’re thinking. He’s got scars, so what? He makes you miserable just being around him? Probably some emo bastard. The whole predator gaze? Well, he was in for assault. No, the thing I’ve been avoiding, the thing that I’ll never forget....it was his ghost.

Way back when we were still bunkmates, he’d told me about how he died. How his parents were some kind of Ghostbuster freaks, and they built a portal to Hell in his basement. Okay, well, he called it the “Ghost Zone”, but who gives a fuck, honestly. Then he told me he was stupid enough to go in the damn thing, and got zapped six ways to Sunday. He said he’d died in that portal, and I didn’t want to believe him. I couldn’t. When you die, you die. That’s it. Game over. Do not pass Go, do not collect two hundred dollars. The idea that he could be some sort of.....half-alive, half-dead.....thing, well....I didn’t want to think about it. I’d already come to terms with my own mortality, and I did not need it shoved back in my face by some freaky-ass kid.

But then he showed me. God, it was horrible. I was expecting him to fail, just the delusions of his poor fucked up scrambled brains, some side effect of getting zapped to hell and back. Maybe, if it were true, to just go a bit translucent. I didn’t expect the monster.

It came in a flash of light. Two sparking rings of bright white electricity, so bright they burned to look at. When I managed to blink the spots outta my eyes, I almost thought I’d hit my head. Where Danny had been standing, a floating, glowing thing stood in his place. It was pale, washed out, with only its acid green eyes and tongue giving it any color at all. It wore a jumpsuit of some sort, with thick gloves and attached boots, like the biohazard guys on TV. It still had the scars though, even if they were glowing an ominous neon green. It hissed at me, like it was trying to speak, but I didn’t understand a word it said. When it turned that empty, hungry gaze on me, I panicked. I shoved it back against the wall, where it connected with a sickening splat. Blood oozed on the concrete, or at least, I assume it was blood. It was red and green and sizzled, like it was eating away at the stone. I think there’s still marks there, where the acid ate away at the concrete.

The thing wanted to eat me, I’m sure of it, but it seemed too dizzy. I think shoving it only made it more angry, but at that point the light came back. I looked away just in time, and when the light died down Danny was back. Still scrawny, still fleshy, still alive. Only now, I wasn’t so sure.

I haven’t seen another ghost since, and I think it’s for the best. I’ve done my research, I’ve heard about these....mediums. I know I can’t see them, not on this plane. Honestly, I’m better off for it I think. I don’t want to see them, or hear them, or even think about them again. 

I didn’t give you this statement to have you do something about it. I don’t even know if you have the ability to do anything, since all this happened in Illinois. I didn’t come all the way to some dingy spooky library in fucking London for a solution. I’ve made my peace. I just.....I needed to tell somebody. Not the cops, I don’t trust them as far as I could throw them. And not anyone else either, they’d think I’m a schizo freak, like that Weston kid. No, I’m perfectly happy laying low, and never thinking about Daniel Fenton again. And now that I have this off my chest and stored away in your freaky little library, I finally can.

--

Statement ends. Although he said he didn’t want us to do anything about his experience, we did reach out to Mr. Gale. He replied in no uncertain terms for us to leave him alone, and that he absolutely would not be giving a follow-up statement. I....can’t say I blame him, but really, half-dead? A teenager that could turn into some paranormal entity? It all seems rather....far fetched. 

Still, we did do some basic follow-up research on what we could. The Fentons do exist, as well as the town of Amity Park. I’d like to take everything about said town with a hefty dose of salt however, as it claims to be “The Most Haunted Place in America”. Tourist trap nonsense, if you ask me. Daniel Fenton was arrested in late summer of 2010, though those records are obviously sealed. Emily Grey declined to give a follow-up statement as well, and Owen Coulter seems to have unfortunately passed away in the intervening years. 

Still, I can’t help but think that Mr. Gale’s statement is....unusually detailed, especially as it concerns a boy he himself claims to have no close connection to.

End recording.

[wolfpawn]

I Hate You, I Love You, Chapter 109

Chapter Summary -  Tom comes back from SDCC to Danielle's new office where she fills him in on a few things.

Previous Chapter

Rating - Mature (some chapters contain smut)

Triggers - references to Tom Hiddleston’s work with the #MeToo Movement. That chapter will be tagged accordingly.

authors Note - I have been working on this for the last 3 years, it is currently 180+ chapters long.  This will be updated daily, so long as I can get time to do so, obviously.

All image rights belong to their owners

tags: @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog @jessibelle-nerdy-mum @nonsensicalobsessions @damalseer @hiddlesbitch1 @winterisakiller @fairlightswiftly @salempoe @wolfsmom1

If you wish to be tagged, please let me know.

Tom walked through the office building, smiling widely at the name of Safeguard Limited as he passed it. When he got to the right floor, he chuckled at the reception that greeted him, with a young receptionist looking at him.

‘Good afternoon, welcome to Safeguard Limited, how may I assist you?’

‘May I speak with Danielle please?’

‘What is it regarding?’

‘I have something for her.’ Tom kept his face polite, though he was unsure what to do regarding the woman.

‘One moment.’ The woman picked up the phone and waited. ‘Name?’

‘Tom, she’ll know who I am.’

The woman said nothing more to him. ‘Ms Hughes, there is a Tom here to see you, he says you know him and he has something for you. Of course.’ she placed down the receiver again, her face turning less stoic. ‘She says to go in, it’s the third door on the left.’

‘Thank you.’ Tom grinned before heading down the small hallway until he came to the third door, beaming at the nameplate donning Danielle’s name and her title. He knocked on the door twice before entering.

‘I understand Lucas, but it is not viable.’ Danielle gave Tom an apologetic look as she stood with a phone in her hand pacing behind her desk. After giving a small wave to dismiss her concern, Tom stood looking around the room as she continued to speak. ‘No, the Branagh job takes precedent then. I can arrange someone else...well I am not available then….I don’t care, I am not able to do two jobs at once, and I refuse to. I am not risking being spread too thin.’ She stated firmly. ‘I’ll check.’ she went on the laptop in front of her. ‘Yes, that would work for me...Perfect, now I have a matter here I have to deal with, I will talk to them about it when they send through the paperwork. Thanks, bye.’ She sighed as she ended the call. ‘Well, hello.’ She smiled as she walked around the desk and over to Tom. ‘Not that I will ever complain, but to what do I owe the pleasure? How was ComiCon?’

‘Intense, people are excited for Ragnarok.’

‘I bet that was not the feeling back in Norse times.’ She laughed.

Tom leant down and gave her a kiss. ‘And I thought I would come see you and your new office.’

‘Yes, it is a bit mad in here, everything is finally in, but that seems to mean that everyone assumes that we have nothing to do and have now given us a hundred things to do at once. Thank you for the flowers, by the way.’

‘Yes, you have a few.’ Tom pointed to the several arrangements in the room.

‘Yes, you, your mum and sisters, Luke, Nacelle and Becky, Ben and Sophie, it’s a bit mad.’

‘Wait, Luke sent some?’

‘Yes, I know.’ Danielle laughed. ‘It’s been an odd week for that sort of thing.’

‘How so?’

‘Well, you know how Durham wasted my time with that interview?’

‘Yes.’ Tom was unsure what she was about to say.

‘Jokes on her, guess who they want for the project’s shots in Britain.’

‘You’re kidding.’

‘Safeguard, and guess who is refusing to do it...Safeguard.’

‘And Waters doesn’t mind?’

‘I told him if he wants to take the contract, he will have to find someone or I will assign someone else, but no, they wanted the head of European coordination involved, and were slightly startled to see who was the European Coordinator, and partner of course.’

‘Be honest, how much did you love declining them?’

‘I may have giggled slightly, okay, fine, I laughed my most elated and diabolical laugh.’ Danielle confessed. ‘I told them no, I would hire someone to do it. That I could not work with a group of people that are so reckless as to waste very valuable time, and that I could not stand over a decision to work with them based on what I knew to be their work ethic.’

‘Good girl.’ Tom beamed. ‘I come bearing gifts by the way.’ He held out a paper bag. ‘Duck and Hoisin wrap.’

‘Tom, I love you, I love you, I love you.’ She beamed taking the bag. ‘I am fucking starving.’

‘So no breakfast today?’

‘If you’ve been to the house, you know I haven’t.’ She took out the food and bit a large bit off. ‘I overslept, by the time I got Mac sorted, I forgot to even grab a travel mug to bring with me, and I just made an arse of this morning. What time did you land?’

‘Only three hours ago, I got home, showered, took Mac for a small trot and decided I would come see the office since you said I should on my return and your text earlier said you had no meetings today.’

‘That’s a lot done in three hours.’

‘I have to say, for a woman with a snazzy office in a good part of town, with fancy receptions and whatnot, you and indeed everyone bar the reception girl, are very casually dressed.’

‘We are not really office staff though, are we. I mean, you never see screenwriters and scriptwriters in fancy clothes either. These guys could be called out to a set today, I could be too, Amelia in reception is the only one here full time, I told her to be comfy, but she states she is happier like that, that it reminds her she is working and not at home watching box sets, so who am I to tell her otherwise?’ There was a knock on the door. ‘Yes?’

The receptionist came in, not paying any attention to Tom and going straight to the desk to Danielle. ‘These came through from Warner Brothers.’ She indicated to one set of papers. ‘And Mr Waters want these signed and sent back by evening here.’ She showed Danielle another set. ‘There is also and James Murray wanting to organise a meeting to discuss something to do with the arrangements for some film, I said that all film arrangements were to be done after initial talk but he said that it was to do with Branagh, that you would know what that meant and to call back with a time that suited.’ The girl looked proudly at Danielle having been satisfied she got everything as required.’

‘Excellent, thank you very much. Tell Mr Murray that there will be a full meeting next Thursday and if he could make it himself, it would be preferable, but we do require someone there.’ She instructed. ‘I’ll sign these in a minute, we’ll have them back before he even sits at his desk.’

‘Yes, Ma’am.’ the receptionist nodded and left without another word.

‘She’s very proper.’ Tom noted.

Danielle laughed. ‘She is twenty-two and hoping to get somewhere, she believes a good six months here before applying to the US office. She’s hardworking and professional, so off with her.’

‘Very professional.’ Tom commented.

‘She knows who you are, she has Loki as her screensaver, she just doesn’t want to act as though she is a silly fangirl or make herself seem odd applying for a job with me, she is lovely.’

‘Good, and the rest of the staff?’ Tom sat on the opposite side of the desk to Danielle, taking out some food he had gotten for himself before eating a salad.

‘Good, hand picked from a bunch of people I knew were looking to vary things up a bit. I mean one guy, Francis, he has eight years experience, he taught me a lot, he came running here, but I had told Lucas to throw stupid money at him and sure enough, he came, he was our greatest acquisition.’

‘So, you are the boss of the man that trained you, effectively?’

‘No effectively, I am his boss.’ Danielle smiled.

‘That’s my girl.’ Tom grinned again.

‘I also have paid off the house.’

‘What?’

‘I got a payment that means I could pay back my loan for the cottage. I am debt free once more.’

‘That is incredible, well done Darling.’ Tom beamed.

‘Yes, I am also looking into upgrading, I think my car has done its time.’

‘How much of a payment was this?’

Danielle grinned smugly. ‘A good one.’

‘That’s my girl.’ Tom beamed proudly. ‘What are you thinking, same again?’

‘Yeah, it suits me.’

‘No Jags?’

‘No.’

‘I’ll get you driving mine yet.’

‘Not likely.’

‘Congratulations Elle, you work so hard, I am so proud of you.’

‘I just can’t believe it.’ She smiled, her eyes filled with tears. ‘With work going so well, and how we are...I am just...I can’t put it into words.’ She rounded the desk and leant down and kissed him passionately. ‘I love you, Tom.’

‘I love you too, and I am so happy for you.’

[smokeybrandreviews]

NBA Rant: Mamba Mentality

You know, when this LAkers team came together last summer, i knew we'd end up where we were. James needed a second star and we needed a coach that understood how to play team defense. When AD came over, a lot of people thought it was a bad trade. I did not. I thought it was excellent. We kept Kuz and got a top five player in return for children. Ball is a bust, his kid brother is better than he is and the motherf*cker ain't even in the league yet, and Hart had peaked. The only thing that irritates me is the fact that we had to let Ingram go but that might not be too big an issue going forward. Kid wants back in and he's working hard to improve. NOLA might be a tryout for the soon-to-be 2020 NBA Champion LAkers. With AD in the fold and the half the supporting cast from the previous year, i felt good. the next big thing we needed was a coach.

For me? In my eyes? Vogel was the only option. Cats were talking about how dude was washed, that he ain't have it, but i never bought that. Vogel s a stud. He's one of, and has always been, one of the best coached in The Association. Most hoop "fans" and all of the talking heads have a short memory. They only remember the sh*t that happened last wee and, in Vogel's case, last week was his sting in Orlando. That team was a bad team. They had no talent. Even so, they improved yer-over-year. I staunchly believe, if he got a hold of Markelle Fultz, that Magic squad would be Playoff worthy right now. But, much to my good fortune, the Magic fired him and he fell into our lap. See, unlike everyone else who was hung up on those two, abysmal seasons in Orlando, i remembered his time in Indiana where he was literally minute away from a shot at the chip. I remember that defense which gave Bron fits. I remember his scheme was the only one in PG13's entire career, which made him look like a straight up superstar. Vogel is legit and when he has pieces, he can work wonders And he had Pelinka go out and get those pieces.

The pick-ups this summer didn't just stop with AD. That was a big get but all the "others" were massive wins, too. Pelinka immediately locked up Mcgee, KCP, Cook, and Green with multi-year deals. The next day, we signed Caruso, Dudley, and Daniels long term. The day after that, we locked down Rondo and Bradley. We initially signed Boogie, which i think would have been choice as f*ck, but dude blew out his sh*t which forced Pelinka to panic sign Dwight Howard. This move had me on the fence because Howard had declined considerably. His rep was shot and he was known for giving no energy on the court. Plus, you know, that first run here. To my surprise, dude has acclimated to his reserve roll and is f*cking thriving! I'd like to to see him resign in the off-season along with Boogie, if possible. Hopefully they'll work something out because, if Vogel could rehab Dwight like this, I'm certain he can work that same magic with Cousins. The big get, though, was definitely Markieff Morris. This dude plugged one helluva hole in Vogel's system and we've been rolling ever since.

Everything came together and people still talked about how superior the Clippers were, how bad they were going to be at our asses. Everyone pegged the Bucks to beat us if we somehow sneaked into the title game. They talked about how we were too old to run, how we couldn't lay well against Small Ball, how our perimeter defense was sus, and whatever else. None of that was a thing. I saw this team for what it was; The best in the West. We had young talent. We had veteran know how. We had championship experience. We had defensive stalwarts. We had play making. we had sharpshooters. We had leadership, both on and off the court. This LAkers squad was a complete team. The only thing i didn't count on was just how f*cking versatile this lineup turned out to be. It's insane how well this squad can adapt to their opponent. A lot of that has to do with Vogel's adjustments but he has to have the pieces to make those adjustments. This squad is tailor made for that sh*t. It's built, ground up, to compete. It's built to beat anyone in a seven game series. It's built specifically with Vogel's style of coaching in mind. When free agency closed last summer, I knew we were good. I knew we were better than the Clippers. I knew this was a team. I knew this was THE team and, hopefully, tonight, everyone else will KNOW when they hoist that trophy. This one is for the Mamba. They're wearing his jerseys tonight. Number eighteen for twenty-four. It's almost poetic.

[sciencespies]

What we don't know about parasites in our changing world could be deadly

https://sciencespies.com/environment/what-we-dont-know-about-parasites-in-our-changing-world-could-be-deadly/

What we don't know about parasites in our changing world could be deadly

In the salt water marshes of southern California, a splashing killifish is easy prey for a hungry shorebird. Like a jerking marionette, the helpless creature shimmies and flashes on the surface of the water. And all the while, hiding deep in its brain, an invisible other quietly pulls the strings.

The puppeteer in question is the super-abundant parasitic flatworm known as Euhaplorchis californiensis. Throughout its life, this one parasite will infect no less than three animals, and a bird’s intestine is the final destination it wants to reach.

To get there, the parasite’s larva must penetrate a killifish, crawl to its brain and lay down a carpet of cysts, which it then uses to manipulate the host’s swimming, sending it thrashing to the surface.

As it happens, infected killifish are preyed on by birds some 10 to 30 times more, which means that parasites are essentially increasing the amount of resources available in the ecosystem: a relationship we often overlook in the natural world.

The story of the infected fish is a tantalising peak backstage, but it’s also a reminder of our sheer ignorance. As the world’s climate changes, we can’t ignore our parasites any longer.

A parasitic dark matter

Though often hidden to the human eye, parasites are, by some estimates, more than half of all known species on Earth. What’s more, they can influence virtually every other free-living animal.

Humans alone play host to nearly 300 types of parasitic worm, and around a third of us are currently infected, whether knowingly or not, with at least one.

They’re everywhere, on all sides, maybe even inside. And yet when we picture a classic food chain, how many of us remember the lions, zebras and grass, only to forget their hidden puppeteers?

Compared to free-living species, scientists have collected relatively scant information on parasites. Historically dominated by medical researchers and overlooked by ecologists and conservationists (Darwin himself viewed them as “degenerates“), these organisms are often entirely missing from modern depictions of food chains; even though, in the average ecosystem, parasite–host links actually outnumber predator–prey links.

Only in the last 30 years or so have we realised our mistake.

 (Cizauskas et al., Royal Society Open Science, 2017)

Above: Global distribution of parasite climate change research. Research on parasitic species is disproportionately oriented towards human emerging infectious diseases (EIDs), especially in countries where the majority of parasite research occurs.

When parasites like E. californiensis are included in the ecology of California’s salt marshes, the classic food web – with a few predators at the top and lots of smaller species on the bottom – is almost literally “turned on its head“.

“Essentially,” the authors of a 2008 paper explain, “a second web appears around the free-living web, and this completely changes the level of connectivity.”

Parasites are thus described as a sort of hidden “dark matter“, not only in our ecosystems but also in our models of infection. When Chelsea Wood, a parasite ecologist at the University of Washington, first started researching mass fishing nearly 15 years ago, she told ScienceAlert that we had virtually no idea how this practice might impact resident parasites.

Even now, she adds, when ecosystems are facing unprecedented changes, we have only the foggiest idea how more than half the species on Earth are coping.

Whether acknowledged or not, parasites are key indicators and shapers of healthy communities, influencing the survival and reproduction of whole host populations, causing food web cascades or even epidemics.

Some call them the “omnipresent agents of natural selection“, others the “ultimate missing links“, still others the “invisible puppeteers“.

Whatever the label, it’s about time we consider the parasite.

Shooting in the dark

If the history of medical science has taught us anything, Wood argues, it’s that the emergence of a new infectious disease can go unnoticed for a long time: the tale of HIV, jumping from primates to humans decades before we recognised it as a global epidemic, is a prime example.

Today, a similar story might be unfolding in our oceans, like a shadow, creeping up the wall behind us.

“We really are just starting to scratch the surface on whether a changing world means rising rates of infectious disease,” Wood told ScienceAlert.

In the last few years, scientists have grown ever more concerned that our planet is not only getting warmer, it’s also altering the spread and distribution of parasitic diseases.

A recent finding, not yet published by Wood’s lab, indicates that from 1978 to 2015, there was a 280-fold increase in Anisakis simplex, a cold water nematode responsible for some 20,000 cases of herring worm disease, usually contracted from eating raw or undercooked seafood.

Whether the trend is due to fishing, climate change or something else, is hard to say for now. In Arctic waters, where this nematode flourishes and climate change is at its worst, we often lack baseline and long-term data, even for the best known parasites and their diseases.

Unfortunately, this means our future projections can often fall short of the rich reality.

The domino effects of climate change on parasites and their hosts. (Cizauskas et al., Royal Society Open Science, 2017)

The latest climate-parasite models are trying to fill-in this blindspot, incorporating not only climate data, but also information on parasitic life cycles, ranges, and opportunities for new hosts.

The initial results suggest that climate change will play a much larger role in disease transfer than we once thought. But what that specifically means for bird-flu, human malaria, A. simplex or other parasitic diseases remains unresolved.

After all, wherever there’s few data, there’s plenty of doubt. Even Wood, who directly measures parasite prevalence, admits that her research may well contain a sneaking bias. Researchers, you see, tend to pay more attention to those parasites that matter to humans.

“No one cares about parasites that are diminishing into extinction, because they don’t hurt people, they don’t hurt animals, they don’t cause outbreaks, they don’t ruin your fish fillet, they don’t crawl across your plate at the sushi restaurant,” Wood explains.

But that doesn’t mean they aren’t a vital part of our ecology. While an increase or change in parasite populations will no doubt have serious repercussions for health and agriculture, the flip side may well entail ecological upheaval. Some parasites are certain to flourish, while others will likely decline and go extinct.

A 2017 study on 457 parasite species predicts that five to 10 percent are committed to this fate by 2070, solely from climate-driven habitat loss. The researchers went on to create the first “red list” for parasites.

“Accounting for host-driven coextinctions,” the authors write, “models predict that up to 30 [percent] of parasitic worms are committed to extinction, driven by a combination of direct and indirect pressures.”

Will the aforementioned E. californiensis number among these wormy losers? Will another invasive parasite take its place? What then will happen to the size, distribution and abundance of killifish? The hungry shorebird? The precious salt marshes? The humans who rely on them?

Gathering answers on the complexities of parasite-host dynamics in all the thousands of mammal and bird species is a simply impossible task, says Konstans Wells, a parasite ecologist and modeller at Swansea University.

“We need more data for certain aspects,” he told ScienceAlert, “but we certainly can’t sample everything and we also can’t wait with the modelling because there is always a need to make better forecasting or maps where diseases are being distributed.”

As the clock ticks, researchers must act like ghostbusters, hunting down invisible foes, diseases that don’t yet exist or have yet to re-emerge in some new unexpected location.

Danielle Claar, a postdoc working in Wood’s lab, is studying the effect of El Niño events in the parasite-rich Tropics, because she says these can act as windows into future warming. Others in the team are sifting through countless museum samples and old journals for evidence of the past.

“When you arrive into science you think everyone’s got everything figured out,” Wood says.

“But as you get deeper in you realise there’s so much we don’t know. It’s staggering.”

As the climate crisis takes a firm grip, squeezing some parasites out and holding on to others, what we don’t know could very will kill many. And that goes for both parasites and humans alike.

A version of this article was first published in June 2019.

#Environment

[jobrosupdates]

The Jonas Brothers Are Getting Used to Being Interviewed Again | VICE

We met the brothers in a deserted London bar, to talk about the past decade and how they finally care enough about pop music to return to it.

The Jonas Brothers don’t know where to sit. We’re standing in a cordoned-off area in the sort of central London bar that resembles the results of a greenhouse and fancy department store’s brief fling. The three siblings eye up four identical green, lip-shaped couches in each corner of the room. “Maybe we should take one each and just shout at each other,” Joe says with a grin.

I laugh nervously, hoping he’s not serious, before suggesting that he and his older brother, Kevin, plop themselves on one sofa, while Nick, wearing a very noisy jacket made of plastic, makes himself comfortable on a red stool. Kevin settles in first, but not before moving four slightly lukewarm coffees onto a low table.

Joe seems buoyant; the other two not so much. “I got some good rest last night, so I'm doing pretty good,” he says, picking up a cup and taking a sip. “I don't know if they got the most amount of sleep. But I had a massage at the hotel and it just put me in a deep, deep sleep.” When I glance at Nick, his face is blank. He doesn’t seem as impressed with his brother’s gentle gloating.

Still, six years ago you might’ve thought that the Jonas Brothers wouldn’t ever trade brotherly jibes with each other in front of a music journalist again. But here they are, promoting their first album in ten years, Happiness Begins. In the US, its lead single, “Sucker” became not only their first Billboard Hot 100 number 1, but the first from a boyband in the US since B2K's "Bump, Bump, Bump" in 2003 ("Sucker" peaked at 4 on the UK charts). They’ve also announced a world tour, done the requisite carpool karaoke – they’re back back.

A newer band might be climbing the walls with excitement at such success. The JoBros, however, have been through this rigmarole of travel, promo, album, tour before. Not that they’re fully jaded – they tell me how happy they are that people still give shit about them – but, rather, they’re reserved. And given what they’ve been through over the past decade, I get it. Happiness might now be beginning, but it’s been difficult to find. A little hesitation is natural.

Now, for the story every super-fan already knows. After starting small, as a teen pop punk act in 2005, the band signed to Disney’s Hollywood Records in 2006 and immediately blew up. In the US, they were the teen pop phenomenon of the late 00s, starring in sitcoms, movies and selling millions of records. But slogging it as poster boys for Disney purity for seven years can leave you in pop purgatory, unable to evolve. In 2013, when they released “Pom Poms”, it was clear that the band had failed to mature with their fans. The song stalled at number 60 on the Hot 100, while its follow up, “First Time”, failed to chart in the UK overall.

Not that they seemed that bothered by that commercial plummet. What they had was broken and when I ask if they were disappointed that the rest of that material never got released, Joe and Kevin both give off something between a huff and a grim laugh. “Truth is, we weren't really happy with the material and didn't feel like we were artistically in sync,” Nick says quickly, his jacket crinkling as he sits forward on his stool. “It’s one of the reasons the group ended. And we were isolating ourselves and limiting our creative potential because we didn't know if we could really progress.”

"I think we were all in such different places,” Joe adds. “Kevin was starting his life with [his wife] Danielle. Nick and I were in and out of relationships. We'd get in the studio and we couldn't land on anything lyrically. I wasn't as inspired to be in there. It kind of felt like I was just going through the motions and I knew that the music would be created” no matter what, with or without passion. “So I'd come in when I was needed. I just wasn't connecting with what we were creating.”

Why not get new writers, you might ask? Well, the Jonas Brothers’ involvement in the writing process felt, to them, fundamental. Sure, their breakthrough hit was a cover of a Busted song, but “Burning Up”, “SOS”, “Love Bug” and “A Little Bit Longer” were legitimately strong pop songs, and their own. Anyway, their lack of musical progression had incubated a fear of rejection. “Knowing that things were on the decline,” Nick says, “I was afraid that we would ask to work with someone and they would say no.” Panicked, he called a meeting and in 2013, mid-way through recording a new record, he broke up the band.

The next bit is well-trodden. Nick buffed up, posed in his underwear and released one of the greatest post-boyband pop songs of all time, “Jealous”. Joe joined dance pop group DNCE. Kevin retreated into family life. He had two children, Alena in 2014 and Valentina two years later. It wasn’t that simple, though. “I didn't even know if I wanted to do music again,” Joe says now. The air isn’t tense but sombre and Nick’s eyes are cast to the floor. “I had to find my own place. I went on and worked on different projects, but it took time to get inspired. Nick had that all figured out. I just didn’t.”

Meanwhile, Kevin says that he was hurt. Joe and Nick had performed as the Jonas Brothers at a final gig without him and, after the birth of his first child, he felt like he didn’t have his best friends. “It's not that I said that I didn't want to do music anymore, but I think, looking back at it, there was some pain there. So I wanted to look at some other passions of my own and see what else was out there.”

As they talk, each brother is careful to allow the other to share their piece. Nick especially is quiet, often faced away from his brothers examining something off in another corner of the room. They’re respectful, almost detached, as if they’ve plodded through that murky period with the wounds, scars and wariness to prove it. The last six years, the brothers tell me, was about rediscovering their relationships as a family. Once Kevin's kids brought them together, “We made time where we could just rebuild as friends," Joe says," not even bring up anything music-related. We didn't really dive into that stuff. We just said, 'Let's just move on.'” Moving on, in this case, involved making 90-minute documentary, Chasing Happiness.

“It seems like a jump,” Joe agrees when I put it to him, before Nick cuts him off for the first time.

“We were made aware of some offers that were coming in for a Jonas Brothers reunion,” he says, carefully. “There was one at that point which could have made sense. Kevin flew out to LA and we talked through it but not everyone was on board.” He eyes Joe. “But it opened up a dialogue about what we could do together, to touch on that period of our lives.” Nick and Kevin flew to go and meet Joe while he was acting as a coach on The Voice Australia. Aside from a dinner in London a year prior, that meeting was the first chunk of time the three brothers had together, just as a trio. Nick, though, hankered after a reunion. And so, like any responsible adults, they decided a play a game where they got drunk and aired out their grievances to figure out their shit. It worked.

After ironing out the details, the Jonas Brothers were soon recording music as a group again, pulling in pop producer and writer names with the weight of a few tonnes: Max Martin, Shellback, Justin Tranter, Greg Kurstin and Ryan Tedder (Tedder executive produced the album). For Kevin, though, it was a learning curve. In the six years he’d been out of the game, a lot had changed. Session writing, streaming and the way that digital communication has opened up the songwriting process has altered not only how people make music, but how they consume it. “There's been so many times where I've asked them, 'Is this a good metric to look at?'” he says, almost sheepishly, “Streaming wasn't really a thing. The way, dynamically, you work with your label, to pretty much all of it has changed.”

Thankfully, the music on Happiness Begins is really good. “I Believe”, which Nick wrote with Kurstin, sits between “Jealous” and the slick romance of “Hold On We’re Going Home”, while “Every Single Time”, a reggae-lite bop produced by Tedder, could easily have belonged to DNCE. And unlike a lot of current pop, you really can’t imagine anyone else singing a song like “Only Human”, a wonky horn-filled track that, when pushed, could be described as baby’s first foray into ska, or lead single “Sucker”, that grabs those Jonas power chords and drags them into 2019. It’s the Jonas Brothers on a molecular level.

I catch their publicist waving at me to wrap things up. The band have a photoshoot next and then they’re playing an intimate gig for fans. But as we all stand up and exchange pleasantries, I tell them I’m glad that they’ll finally be able to spend a holiday like Thanksgiving together as friends. They all pause and look at each other awkwardly. “We do have a day off and we'll be in the New Jersey area,” Kevin says. “We could go to your house?” Nick asks. I turn to Joe. “Oh, we have no idea,” he shrugs. “We're still bandmates at the end of the day. We're just trying to figure it all out.” And with that they file out of the room.

Source: VICE

[celestica-1988]

Little Lion Man

Daniel Webber!Vince x Reader (friendship)

Warning:sensitive topic, cancer

You noticed that man immediately.

Not because he was awesome with his long blonde hair, but because you never saw him before and you knew everyone in that pediatric ward. Sadly that man was a new face and you felt your heart sank, another kid was a victim of the cancer.

You hated cancer, cancer was a bitch to you.

Your son was battling with a brain cancer for two years since now, he was a warrior, he has always been a warrior. His father didn’t want children, so when you got pregnant he forced in any way to make you abort, but you didn’t want to. Your boyfriend was a douchebag, a piece of shit, but you couldn’t bring yourself to hate the little life who was growing inside you.

That made your man so frustrated that when you were in the eighth month he pushed you down the stairs, you were so scared to lose your bean, but he survived. Your ex boyfriend was sent to prison and the day you saw your son’s smile your heart melted.

You loved him at the first sight, unconditionally and with all your heart.

And that child was a blessing, he was always smiling, he was so empathetic with everyone and ready to share his toys that you wanted to cry.

More than one times you thought you didn’t deserve him, he was too pure for this world.

And probably someone up in the sky listened to you and agreed with.

It all started with a series of strong headaches, you brought him to the doctor and then to the hospital, you weren’t ready for the result of the various exams.

At the age of six your little angel had a brain tumor.

You fainted for the shock.

The next days were a blur, when you were in yourself you cursed God, the destiny, the universe.

Now you were calmer, even if you still felt like life made you a big wrong to you, it was once again your son to teach you how to fight. Once the strong emotions were drained out from your body you found the strength to fight along with your little lion man.

You looked at the man, his eyes were red and puffy, there were bags under it. He kept moving his hands restlessly. He needed help.

Everyone needs help the first time they have to face that cancer strikes also children, that is not just a horrible adult disease.

You went to vending machine and took two coffee instead of one.

You wanted to help that man and the first step was to make him talk even just a little bit.

You came back to the chairs there were in the ward and found him right when you left him, for a moment you consider to let it go. Maybe he wanted to stay alone and you will ended up annoying him.

Sighting you walked towards him.

“Do you want some coffee, mister?” He raised his eyes, that man didn’t sleep for days!

“Coffee?”

“You seem to need it. My name is Y/N.” He took the coffee and sipped it a bit.

“Why?” “Why what?” “Why are you giving me coffee?” You sat near him.

“My son is in that room.”

You pointed to the room.

“He has got brain tumor and he’s just eight. I don’t know why you are here, but I guess that one of your children is hospitalized here and if you need someone to talk just call me. I’ll be around here all night.” “Thank you. My name is Vince.” That name rang some bells, but you ignored the,

What if he was famous? It didn’t change the fact that he was a person in need of help.

You headed toward your son’s room and entered, he was reading a book on animals, he loved them: his dream was to be a veterinary once he’s healed.

“Hi, mum! Look at those tigers, aren’t’ they awesome?”

“They are really cool, Y/S/N.” “Today a new kid arrived. She was a girl, she was tired after chemo.”

You stayed silent for another moment, your boy wasn’t the type that spilled soon all the juice.

“She was very pretty, she had blond hair. I think she’s called Skylar. Her parent called her this way.

She was scared, but his father was even more scared then her. A tall man with long blonde hair.” You were sure he was Vince.

“How old was she?” “Just four, mum. It’s not right, ma.”

Tear were about to fall down from your eyes, he was the one ill and even so he was worried about the others.

“Time to go to bed, tiger.

Or tomorrow you won’t be able to fight against the monster.” “Okay, mum.” You fixed the bed, put away the book and then looked at him for a brief moment.

“Goodnight, tiger. Sleep well.” You kissed his forehead, turned off the lights and run out from the camera crying.

You thought you were used to it after two years, but the truth was that you’ll never get used to the view of him attached to HV, tubes and machines.

You walked to the chairs and Vince was still there, you sat near him craving for some human contact.

He stay silent for so long you thought he felt asleep, but at the same time you were grateful for the silence, you felt too upset to talk to everyone.

“How is he?”

He asked after a while.

“My son? He’s strong. Stronger than me, he’s my little lion man.” “Skylar is scared, scared to hell and I’m more scared than her.

I do so much stupid things, usually when she sleeps or he’s doing chemo I ran home and got drunk. I can’t find any better way to cope with this.”

“Talk to me, if you want.” “How old is your son?” “He’s eight, they diagnosed him the disease two years ago.” “Skylar is only four, no one really know if her body is strong enough for the chemo and the rest of the therapies.”

Four years, you thought, this girl was way too young to deal with that shit, she should have been outside playing with children of her age.

You looked at Vince, he felt asleep.

Sighting you went to one of the terrace of the hospital and smoked a cigarette.

You looked at the stars with the usual question on your lips: is it right that children must endure this pain?

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

The net day was like the one before.

Your son was in a good mood, he talked about tigers and Skylar all the time, you exchange just a brief greet with Vince.

The night arrived and you sat on one of the chair, your head in  your hands, about to cry.

You talked to the doctors, the cancer was stronger than the chemo or other things they tried, at this rate your son will die and all you could do was watching him dying.

“Need some coffee?” You lifted your head and found Vice looking at you.

“Yes, thank you.” You took  it and drank in silence, you didn’t feel like talking that evening, Vince was also silent.

“Do you think it is a punishment?” Said after a while.

“Do you mean God is punishing them?”

He shook his head.

“No, God is not punishing them is punishing us.” “Vince, I don’t understand.” “I’m not a good person.”

He spatted.

“Some years ago I … I killed a man.” You froze.

“I was driving my car and I was drunk ad hell. One of my friends was sitting next to me, we were back from a liquor store. I was talking nonsense to him and I didn’t see a car. We hit it, I was safe and sound while he died in my arms.

I went to jail, but they gave me a short sentence and it was even shorter because I went in rehab.

I never paid properly for what I’ve done and I’m asking…

I’m asking myself: is this the punishment?

I took a life and now a life is taken away from me?”

You stayed quiet for a while, your parents died in a car accident because of a drunk man, someone you never forgave, but Vince was different.

You could see the pain in his eyes and that didn’t let you hate him.

“My parents died in a car accident because of someone like you, I should hate you but I can’t.

I don’t think cancer is a punishment for something we did wrong in life, I don’t know what it is, I haven’t got any answer. But my son taught me that not of these shit matters, all that we have to do is fight day by day along side with them. For them is enough to know that we are here to hold them when the pain is unbearable.”

You suddenly started to cry and Vince hugged you, you tighted the grip, you want, no, you need someone by your side. Someone who hugged your sadness away.

And that person was  Vince.

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

Since that day you became friends.

You talked every night if Skylar and Y/S/N till you felt asleep. You and your son even met Skylar, the two child became immediately friends.

For a couple of weeks the things were going better and you let yourself indulge in a dangerous illusion: everything will be alright.

Skylar and Y/S/N will defeat cancer, they will come back home, stay friends and maybe one day they will even marry.

That was the moment the tragedy struck.

Skylar was getting bad again, a surgery was necessary. Both Vince and Skylar were scared to death but you and your little lion man managed to comfort them somehow.

Skylar never survived to that surgery, her beautiful blue eyes would never open again, she would never experience the world.

Vince was in pieces and you tried your best to keep him together, but a part of him died with her daughter and after a while he stopped coming in hospital.

Once again you were left alone with your little lion to fight.

This time were different, though. He kept watching a stuffed animal Skylar gave to him and sighed. He barely talked and never laughed anymore since the death of his friends.

His health was declining and you couldn’t stop, it was like he was trying to reach Skylar on the other side, but he couldn’t!

He was so young!

He wanted to be a veterinary!

He was your beloved kid and you didn’t wanna give him to anybody else in the sky.

It was fucking yours!

That evening you noticed that something was different, his pale skin was like translucent, there were a light in him.

“Mum.” He said in a serious tone who didn’t belong to him.

“Mum, whatever will happens remember two things.

I love you to the moon and back.

I’ll be always watching you even though you can’t see me.” You were too shocked to say something.

You read him a fairytale and gave him the goodnight kiss.

The morning after Y/S/N was dead.

It was a nightmare, all you wanted to do was cry and sleep, but people around you made you sign tons of paper and forced you to organize the funeral.

How could a mother do that without getting completely crazy?

You felt on the edge of losing your mind when you finally sat on the chair you used to talk with Vince.

Some minute later someone sat near you, you lifted your head ready to snap the head of whoever was there. You froze when you see Vince.

“I heard, I’m sorry, Y/N.” You didn’t say anything, so he hugged you strongly.

Something in the warmth of Vince’s embrace melted something inside you.

“I’m here, you are not alone.

For them is enough to know that we are here to hold them when the pain is unbearable.

Do you remember?” You nodded.

“So here I am. We will get through this together.

I promise you.” You had no guarantee that he would keep his promise, but you decided to believe.

You felt like Vince was the last gift of Y/S/N so you got lost in his warmth.

You had time to cry after.

[prettytoxicrevolver]

Dream School | Daniel Seavey

Requested? Yup! Hope you like it :) 

Warnings? Swearing? 

Word Count: 1,519

“Our last year of high school.” Daniel says slinging an arm around your shoulder. “Let’s make the most of it.” It was the first day of your senior year and you were ecstatic. You were gonna make great memories with your best friends and boyfriend and soon move on to even bigger and better adventures. The first day goes by pretty quickly and soon you were off to Daniels house. He decided he wanted to have a back to school/end of summer get together. When you get there, you recognize Jonah, Jack, and Corbyns cars parked out front. You park behind Jonah and head inside and towards Daniels living room. When you walk in you spot the five teenage boys spread out across the room. “(y/n)!” Jonah exclaims before getting up to hug you. “Hi Jonah bear.” You say. “I missed you at school. Who else am I supposed to talk shit with?” “I’m right here.” Jack answers and you laugh. “Babe.” Daniel whines. “Come here.” He says patting the seat next to him. You walk over and plop onto the couch where Daniel immediately places a hand on your thigh and a kiss on your cheek. “How was everyone’s first day?” The six of you sit around and talk about your first school day. The new classes, new teachers, new students, new drama etc. “I can’t wait to graduate.” You say after a few quiet moments. “You just had your first day of school.” Jonah says. “Yeah and when I finish high school, I get to go to college and spend more time with you dorks.” “It’s gonna be amazing.” The first six months of senior year flew by in a second. The boys band had started to really gain a following and you were beyond proud to watch it from the start. Their manager wanted them to start their tour early before the boys finished high school but they refused. Jack, Daniel, and Corbyn wanted to graduate with you (and in general) before they started their career. You had applied to a couple of in state colleges but also out of state colleges. Your dream ever since you were young was to go to UPenn. So of course, you sent in an early admission application and had been waiting nervously for a response ever since. “(y/n)!” Your Mom yells up the stairs to you. “Mail for you!” You were currently upstairs with Daniel as the two of you cuddled on your bed while watching your favorite movie. When you hear your mom call you though, you immediately bolt up from your bed and run downstairs. Daniel follows behind you and when you see that the mail is from UCLA and UPenn you instantly grow nervous. Daniel sees this and takes your hand in his and squeezes it reassuringly. “Open it.” Daniel encourages. You take your hands from his and carefully peel open the UCLA envelope. You read over the words quickly before breaking out into a smile. “I got in!” You cheer. “I got in!!!” You repeat excitedly. As much as you adored UPenn, UCLA was a definite close second. You knew that if you didn’t get into UPenn you would go to UCLA and stay close to Daniel. “That’s my girl.” Daniel says kissing the side of your head. You then pick up the UPenn envelope. You stare down at the familiar school logo before tearing open the letter. Your eyes skim over the words before you place one hand over your mouth. You can see Daniel looking at you with concern before picking up the paper and reading it for himself. “You got in.” He says in just as much shock as you. “I got in.” You say still processing it. “I got in!!!” You scream loudly. You start jumping up and down around your kitchen before running straight into Daniels arms. He holds you tight before pulling away just a bit to place a messy kiss on your lips. “I’m so proud of you!” He yells. “We have to get the guys together and go out to dinner. Show off my smart girl.” The next night the six of you head over to your favorite restaurant to celebrate. Once all of your food is served, Daniel stands up from his chair next to you. “I would like to make a toast.” He starts. “Boo!!” Jack yells making you laugh. “Get off the stage!” Zach adds in and Daniel rolls his eyes. “To my beautiful girlfriend (y/n). She’s smarter than all of us combined, beautiful, passionate, and is gonna shine like the star she is at UPenn. Congratulations my dear. You did it.” After that night, you couldn’t stop thinking about Daniel and your future. You loved him, more than anything in the world. And with the band taking off you weren’t sure you could move all the way to Pennsylvania where you would never see him. You wracked your brain with questions for days trying to figure out what to do. Eventually you decided to call Jonah. He had always helped you through your toughest times and he was wise beyond his years. “What’s up (y/n/n)?” Jonah asks when he picks up the phone. “Wanna grab some coffee and go for a walk? I need help with something.” “I’ll be over in 5.” Just as promised, Jonah picks you up and you head to Starbucks before driving to your local park. The two of you slowly start walking around before Jonah breaks the silence. “Are you okay love?” “No.” You admit. “I don’t know if I should go to UPenn and live out my dream or stay here at UCLA and be with my dream guy.” “You don’t think you and Daniel could do long distance?” Jonah asks. “I mean we could. But he’s gonna be traveling a lot and I’ll be across the country from him and I don’t know it all just seems like a lot.” “Well, I still think you should go to your dream school. But ultimately it’s up to you. I understand your reasoning for both but haven’t you been working for UPenn your whole life?” “Babe?” You hear Daniels voice call as he walks into your house. “In my room!” You yell back. You hear him jog up the stairs and then walk into your room. You get up from your spot on the bed and greet him with a kiss. “What did you need to tell me?” Daniel asks. “I think I’m gonna stay here and go to UCLA.” You tell him and watch as his expression falls. “But it’s your dream.” He responds with a hint of confusion. “But so are you.” You and Daniel spent the rest of that day together but you knew something was up. He was more distant and less talkative than usual. He was most likely upset about your decision to go to UCLA. “I think I have to break up with (y/n).” Daniel mentions to Jack randomly. He couldn’t get his mind off of (y/n) ever since she said she was going to go to UCLA instead of UPenn. It was her dream school and she was going to give it up for him? He couldn’t take it. “What?!” Jack asks incredulously. “She wants to decline UPenn and stay here to be with me.” Daniel explains. “You can’t talk to her about it?” Jack asks. “She’s stubborn, we all know this. When she has her mind set on something it’s set. I don’t know what else to do.” The next day, Daniel had planned to take (y/n) on a movie date. The two headed out together to go see the new Mission Impossible movie before heading back to (y/n)’s house. “Can I be honest?” Daniel asks as he walks you to your door. “Of course.” You respond slightly confused. “I’m breaking up with you.” Daniel deadpans and you can feel your heart shatter on impact. “What?” You ask unsure if the whole thing was real. “I don’t love you anymore. I’m sorry.” Your head started to spin the minute Daniel said he wanted to break up. You couldn’t understand it. Just yesterday he had told you he loved you and now he was saying he didn’t. That he fell out of love. You could feel the tears start to well up in your eyes but you couldn’t let Daniel see you cry. Without another word to him, you walk inside your house and let the tears fall freely. “Daniel!” Jonah booms while running down the stairs. “What the fuck man?” He says upon seeing Daniel laying down on the couch. “What?” Daniel asks sitting up. “You know damn well what.” Jonah snaps. “How could you do that to her?” “I had no choice man!” Daniel yells now standing up. “She was gonna skip out on her dream school for me! I couldn’t let her do that.” “Then why didn’t you tell her that?” “She would have never listened. I love her more than anything so I let her go.”

[shipmistress9]

FTLOAP: Chapter 25: It Will Not Be Long, Love

Title: For The Love Of A Princess

Fandom: HTTYD

Theme: Hiccstrid - Medieval-style AU - Romance - Angst/Hurt/Comfort

Summary: Reduced to little more than a stable boy, Hiccup, despite his noble birth, has few prospects for more in life. But when he meets a girl who came to look at the horses, being a stable boy might not be enough anymore. Together, they have tough choices to make and great risks to navigate if they want to survive and be together.

Rating: Explicit

FF-net  -  AO3

Prologue; Chapter 1; Chapter 2; Chapter 3; Chapter 4; Chapter 5; Chapter 6; Chapter 7; Chapter 8; Chapter 9; Chapter 10; Chapter 11; Chapter 12; Chapter 13; Chapter 14; Interlude 1; Chapter 15; Chapter 16; Chapter 17; Chapter 18; Chapter 19; Chapter 20; Chapter 21; Chapter 22; Chapter 23; Chapter 24

Alpha/Co-author: @athingofvikings

. – * – _ . o O o . _ – * – .

AN: Remember how I said this would be the last chapter before the hiatus? Yeah, well... it's not. Once again, it turned into a ridiculous mammoth and i had to split it. But to fully concentrate on NaNoWriMo, I plan to post the second part of this last chapter on Tuesday or Wednesday... we'll see.

This week's title comes from the song 'She Moves Through The Fair' by Loreena McKennitt

. o O o .

The next two days were… awkward, to say the least.

Hiccup was acting strangely, but Astrid couldn’t tell why. All she knew was that something had gone completely wrong and that she had no idea what it was. To her, everything had been perfect. Her questions had been answered; she had no doubts anymore about their feelings being real, and her fears about whether she’d be able to enjoy Hiccup touching her had been thoroughly crushed as well.

If anything, she only wanted more. The way he’d made her feel, so light as if she was floating, as if her mind and body weren’t connected anymore, and as if nothing existed anymore but the sensations he elicited in her – she wanted more of that!

But it didn’t seem like she would get more anytime soon.

. o O o .

The day after Dagur’s accolade didn’t start that bad. Astrid woke to her stomach feeling like it was twisting in knots – for reasons other than her soulmate for once – but she hadn’t expected anything else. And in addition, she was once again looking forward to that day’s events.

This day was devoted to basic battle training and assessment of the new recruits, including a little demonstration that was Daniel’s favourite – shield walls against archers. It always was entertaining to watch how the young men, who usually assumed they’d be lone warriors on the battlefield, would try to charge an archery tower – sword raised, shield in hand, and a battle cry on their lips – only for them all to “die” when a padded arrow hit them.

Usually, Astrid would stand to the side with Eret and Dagur, making comments and bets on who would get the furthest. Watching men fight, for them to prepare for real battles, wasn’t her favourite freetime activity, but since Fishlegs would be busy treating head- and stomach-aches after last night’s feast, she had few other options. The fact that they would spend the day at the archery range instead of the garrison helped too. She still didn’t feel like catching up on her performance with bow and arrow, but she also didn’t want to hide anymore. She had her brothers who would protect her if needed, and she had Hiccup who, just by existing, made her life so much better – and that was all she really needed.

But the main reason for accompanying Daniel today was… well… Hiccup. His behaviour last night had been so odd, and she just needed to see him, his warm smile, had to know that nothing had changed.

When he showed up, however, it was as if everything had changed. He behaved… weird. There really was no other word for it, even though, to everyone else, he had to appear entirely as he was supposed to.

But he didn’t look at her.

Not once.

He greeted Eret and the others with an appropriate mixture of familiarity and formality, that absolutely suited them. When it was her turn to be greeted, though, he changed.

“Good morning, Princess Astrid,” he mumbled, bowing deeply. Astrid couldn’t even so much as catch a glimpse at his eyes as they were firmly cast to the ground at her feet.

“Good morning, Hiccup,” she replied, puzzled, but managed not to show it.

And then he left without giving her so much as a glance, no covert smile, no nod, nothing. It left Astrid confused as she followed him with her eyes. Sure, they’d agreed on being more careful when interacting in public, but this behaviour was still weird.

Practically all day, she had her eyes on him; first as he stood amidst a group of young men, fruitlessly trying to convince them to organise their charge at the tower, and later as he joined Daniel, Dagur, Eret, and a group of castle guards to demonstrate how effective an orderly turtle formation could be. But he didn’t look at her, not once, not even as they were whooping and cheering at their success.

Astrid thought it might be because of the official setting, that he was playing his role as nothing but Eret’s squire. But given how everyone else regularly looked in her direction under some pretence or other, his behaviour seemed weird. And it stayed that way. During lunch, he sat with a group of lads in a far-off corner of the archery ground, declining politely when Daniel invited him over, and even during the less organised archery training in the afternoon, he didn’t even glance once in her direction. Maybe it was because he was so focused on his bow and the target – he wasn’t the worst archer among the lads, but also by far not the best – but somehow Astrid felt more like he was avoiding her on purpose. Especially when, once the training came to an end in the late afternoon, he bid his farewell in an equally sober manner as his greeting, and practically fled her presence.

It confused Astrid. Sure, they had to keep up appearances when in public… but this went way beyond anything they’d done on earlier occasions. She’d at least expected a covert look, a short flash of a smile, just something.

She wanted to talk to him, wanted to sneak away once again and ask him directly, but didn’t get the chance. For some reason, Timothy’s chicken was going crazy and it took ages before they all settled for sleep – or at least the twins did. Astrid’s night was fitful, with her tossing and turning, unable to find a comfortable position in her feather bed, her lower body aching and her mind reeling.

And the following day was even worse. When Rachel came to wake her, she was still incredibly tired and feeling generally miserable; the thought of spending a couple of hours in bed with tea and a book felt like that might be the best thing to do. But when Daniel came to pick her up for one of their last days at the stables, she didn’t turn him down. She couldn’t! The previous day had been so weird, and despite her determination to not risk letting Daniel and the others notice anything, she still hoped to somehow get the chance to talk to Hiccup. Or to at least silently communicate through looks, exchange a reassuring smile maybe. Surely, he wouldn't be equally distanced as the day before when they were at the stables… right?

Her assumptions were true... to a degree at least. Hiccup wasn't quite as reserved, joked and laughed. It was almost like it always was. Except that it didn’t feel the same. Maybe he was just playing his role, kept his distance as they’d agreed upon. But it felt like more, like there was something concerning him, something that, again, kept him from even looking at her, much less talk to her. It was jarring, irritating, and so… so confusing!

At some point, the men decided to give their horses some exercise in the paddock outside. There had been no time to go for a ride during the previous days, after all, and after these first few days of training, none of them felt like riding out now. Astrid, however, decided to stay inside; the worst part of her moon blood might be over, but as always, it left her dizzy and tired. And in addition… in addition, she hoped for either Hiccup staying behind to keep her company, or to at least get a break without having to act as if everything was okay.

But neither of those hopes came true.

“I’ll stay with her,” Eret offered when Daniel threw her a concerned look, Trample tugging at his rope to finally get outside. “Hiccup, can you take Crusher as well? He and Markor should get along well enough.”

“Of course, Milord,” Hiccup replied, giving his usual exaggerated bow.

Astrid watched as they left the stable, slumping slightly back against the straw bale in her back.

“You okay?” came Eret’s inquisitive voice from the side.

She plastered a smile on her face, but for once not one that was meant to fool anyone – least of all her oldest friend. “Yeah, it’s nothing. Just the usual,” she explained, wrapping one arm around her midst in a telling gesture, and shrugged. It wasn’t even a lie, she told herself. It probably was nothing; she was just overreacting – again. Surely, once she got the chance to talk to Hiccup again, everything would be fine. Tonight, she thought to herself. She would find a way to talk to him tonight, no matter what.

Understanding dawned in Eret’s eyes. “Oh, I see. Want me to rub your back?” he asked.

With a smile, she nodded. As so often, the cramps in her stomach had shifted into her back by now, and this surely wasn’t the first time Eret gave her a light massage to ease them. He settled behind her, the movement of his broad hands and their warmth soon easing her discomfort, and she closed her eyes, focusing on the moment and forcing herself not to think. Absentmindedly, she reached for her chest, for the reassurance.

‘We are good, always.’

She would hold on to that.

“Interesting charm you have there,” Eret suddenly commented. When she turned to give him a questioning look, he nodded at her hand. Confused, she followed his gaze and noticed that she was absently fiddling with her key, the delicate chain wrapped around her fingers. Right… Today’s dress had more of a neckline than usual, pulling out the key had been no effort at all.

For a short instant, she worried about what to tell him, but then decided that, for once, the simple truth would be a good choice. “It’s the key to that small coffer Uncle Oswald gave me once,” she explained light-heartedly.

“I remember it,” Eret said cheerfully. “So why do you have the key with you?”

“Well, it contains all my secrets, so I prefer to carry the key with me at all times.” She winked, making Eret snort good-humouredly.

“Those all fit into that little box?” he asked a little disbelievingly, with a waggle of his eyebrows to show that he wasn’t serious. “I’m disappointed. I could have sworn you had enough secrets to fill at least half of Lake Vola.”

They both chuckled, and once more Astrid was grateful for having such a good friend. A friend who made her feel better for the simple purpose of her feeling better. A friend who accepted that she had her secrets and didn’t pry for them. A friend who, surely, wouldn’t betray her trust if she told him.

But no, she couldn’t do that. Not just because telling anyone would only put Hiccup in unnecessary danger, but also because telling Eret would put him into a compromising situation. She didn’t want to force him to lie too.

“Feeling better?” Daniel asked a while later as he and the others returned to find her enjoying Eret’s massage a bit more.

“Yes, a little,” Astrid replied, her eyes fluttering open. As if drawn by an invisible force, they landed directly on Hiccup, but she immediately looked away and at Daniel instead. It was enough, though; enough to see him finally look at her, enough to see the look of guilt and concern, covered by a soft smile – enough to confuse her even more.

“And we’re done just in time, I’d say,” Dagur chirped cheerfully. “We should go back, freshen up a little. We’re having a date tonight, after all.”

“A date?” Hiccup asked, one eyebrow raised.

“Right,” Eret grinned. “You’re coming too, Hiccup. No discussion, that’s an order.”

“Ahm… okay?” Hiccup made, clearly puzzled. He looked around from one to the other until Daniel took pity on him.

“We received an invitation the other day,” he explained. “Not exactly the usual procedure, but still one we hardly could turn down. What was her name again, Eret? Kayley?”

“It’s Cami,” Eret corrected with a wink.

Astrid’s shoulders slumped a little. Right… The men would be at Freya’s Temple tonight; she’d completely forgotten about that. Almost against her will, her eyes flickered to Hiccup for a split second. The urge to secretly return here again tonight, to talk to him and solve this weird tension between them, was overwhelming. But if he wouldn’t even be here… Well, she’d have to wait another day then.

The thought made her anxious.

“Okay, let’s go then,” Daniel announced once the horses were all back in their stalls. The way back to the castle was a strange experience. Never before had she made this way in Hiccup’s company, much less in such a weird atmosphere. Daniel, Eret, and Dagur were as cheerful as ever, making insinuating jokes that, under proper circumstances, surely wouldn’t be for her ears. Hiccup was eerily quiet though, walking next to them but not reacting to their jibes nor making any comments himself, and only threw her a couple of covert glances every now and then.  

It wasn’t hard for Astrid to guess what was on his mind. But as much as she wished otherwise – as much as she felt otherwise – they weren’t married yet. Wouldn’t be for a long time, in fact. It would be ridiculous to assume or even demand for him not to visit an Ástir for all that time. And she wanted him to know that.

“Well, I’ll leave you to it then,” she announced once they reached the wing with their private chambers. The smile, with which she looked at each of them, was genuine. “Enjoy yourselves!”

In turning, she caught the pained and torn look on Hiccup’s face, but quickly looked away. She wanted to give him a nod, some form of reassurance that she didn’t mind. But with all their eyes on her, that wasn’t feasible. So she just raised her hand to wave over her shoulder at them all as she walked down the corridor, mentally preparing herself for another lonely night of tossing and turning.

It would be a long night.

. o O o .

As Astrid vanished back towards her chambers, Hiccup had to fight not to stare after her. Although, truth be told, it was an easy fight – fueled by his guilt. Gods, he’d been so stupid...

“Come on, if we’re visiting the Temple, we need to be presentable.” Daniel said, grinning and clapping him on the shoulder.

Hiccup nodded, glad over this distraction as the lessons on decorum that had been drilled into him for the last... Gods, was it almost six years now?, came back with a vengeance. The Ástir might not charge a fee, but you did not disrespect the Goddess they served by showing up slovenly. There usually were basic cleaning accommodations to be found at the Temple, but it was considered a sign of respect to show up presentable already when possible.

The four of them made their way to the castle bathhouse, which was near the residential quarters, and entered the men’s changing rooms. Once inside, Hiccup made his way to the back of the rooms, pulled off his soiled clothing, stinking of the stables, folded them, and left them on the lower shelf of the small cubbyhole that he’d been assigned when he’d arrived some weeks ago; the upper shelf had another of his tunics and trousers from his last visit to the baths, cleaned, laundered and waiting for him.  

After getting a robe from the rack, he joined up with the other three, likewise berobed, and they made their way into the bathhouse proper.  

It was a nice enough bathhouse, Hiccup had to admit, finely appointed, with warm stones underfoot, artistic mosaics on the walls, and with candles in scones providing a sufficient and soothing amount of light. But the pools here were heated by wood-fires, and part of him couldn’t help but compare them to... to his family’s baths, heated by a hot-spring, and find these baths wanting in comparison.  

Daniel, Eret and Dagur were bantering as they entered the half-full hot pool, hanging their robes on the nearby hooks set there for that purpose; the other bathers waved hello, mostly to Daniel and the two ducal heirs, but continued on with their conversations.  

As the hot water hit his leg, Hiccup sighed in relief.

“Good to take a load off?” Eret asked with concern.

Hiccup nodded numbly; it had been acting up a lot more over the last couple of days – and he knew exactly why. Sure, the unusual activities of the last days played a part too, but he knew that wasn't the only reason. Guilt pooled in his stomach, but he put on his best calm face and laid back in the pool’s seat, letting the warmth of the water soak into him, and claiming the soap-on-a-rope as it was passed around.  Hiccup had to admit that much – the King’s bathhouse had some of the finest soaps he’d ever used.

Mostly, though, he kept quiet as the other three men bantered, feeling miserable.

Guilty and ashamed, but mostly miserable.

Gods, what had he been thinking?

Not now, he chided himself. He didn’t want to drown in his thoughts again, not now. Not when he was around people who could not – under any circumstances – know what he was thinking about.

About how soft their sister’s breasts were, how perfectly they fitted into his palm. About the moans she made when he licked her behind her ear. About how incredible it felt when her fingers dug into his back.

Thankfully, at least in the baths... that sort of reaction wouldn’t be commented on. Just the relaxing effects of the baths – or the thoughts of their upcoming visit to the Temple. At worst, he’d get teased.

But he couldn’t think of her like that! Maybe paying Cami a visit was a good idea after all. Not that he had any choice on the matter anyway, but still. He’d been reluctant, had wanted to find some way, any way out of it. But between Eret’s order and Astrid’s reassuring smile… Yeah, it probably wasn’t such a bad idea. It would at least take the edge off his desire, so that he hopefully could interact normally with Astrid again on their next meeting. Oh, how he longed to be alone with her again, to simply look at her, talk to her, to just be with her.

Daniel reached over and snagged the soap bar, which Hiccup hadn’t realized he’d been holding for this entire time, right out of Hiccup’s hands, the bar swaying from the soft linen rope that was embedded in it.  

He gave the prince a sheepish smile, and opened his mouth to apologize, but Daniel rolled his eyes and waved him down. “Don’t worry about it, Hiccup. You have one of the finest minds that I’ve had the pleasure of meeting, and I understand if your thoughts were somewhere else.” He scoffed and nodded his head towards Dagur and Eret, who were cheerfully sculpting the soap-foam on their heads into outlandish shapes. “At least I know your thoughts are more productive than these two thickheads!”

Hiccup chuckled weakly as Dagur and Eret protested playfully. Oh, if he only knew...

Daniel lathered up and sniffed. “Hmm... lavender. Nice. And that reminds me, I wanted to drop by the bakery before we head over to the Temple. I promised Kaden to get her some of those lavender-and-lemon cookies.”

“Oho?” Eret commented, wagging his eyebrow. “You sure there’s nothing more to tell?”

Hiccup cocked his head, listening in with interest. Everything was good so long as it kept him from thinking too much.

“Yes, I am sure,” Daniel sighed. “It’s probably like with you and this Cami. I know her, and I like her. I’m more comfortable with her than with anyone else I don’t know at all. But that’s it. She’s a friend, and I know she likes these cookies. So, I’m going to treat her to some of them. End of story.”

Hiccup had his doubts on the ‘like you and this Cami’ part, but quickly dropped that thought again.

“It’d better stay that way,” Dagur sighed, unusually sober for once. “Believe me, it would only make your life complicated otherwise.”

Hiccup gave Dagur a confused look as Daniel placed a clearly comforting hand on his shoulder. He looked like he also wanted to say something, but before he could do so, one of the castle pages came up, panting slightly and red-faced – and fully dressed. That was odd in the baths.

“Your Highness,” the page said, coming to a halt at the edge of the pool and painting a hasty but deep bow, apparently aware of the depth of the breach of manners he was committing by coming into the baths like this. “My apologies for the interruption, but I was sent to come get you immediately.”

Daniel blinked. “Whatever for?”

“I was bid to give you this, Your Highness,” he said, still breathing hard, and handed over a small scrap of paper, “by the warden.”

Daniel’s brow had been wrinkled in irritation, but he took the note and read it.  

Hiccup watched as Daniel’s expression went from curiously annoyed to angry to calm composure, and shared a look with Dagur and Eret.  They returned it, just as confused as he was.

Daniel looked up after a moment, and then hauled himself out of his pool seat, and, dripping slightly, pulled his robe on. When he finally looked up again to meet their puzzled gazes, there was grim satisfaction on his face. “It’s… Sorry, but I need to go and meet my father.” He paused, biting his lip, then slightly shook his head. “Can you relay my greetings to Kaden? And maybe get those cookies for her as my apology? But this is important and can’t wait until tomorrow.”

“Of course,” Eret nodded. They all knew better than to ask for details when the Crown Prince wasn’t sharing them by himself, after all. Daniel nodded gratefully, and before either of them could say any more, he headed off towards the exit.

“Okay? That was weird,” Dagur stated, forehead wrinkled in confusion.

“Indeed…” Eret agreed. “But I’m sure we’ll learn what it was about eventually.”

They finished up in the pool without further delay, the banter from before having left with Daniel. With their fresh but too casual clothes on, they stopped by at their rooms in the residual wing of the castle to get something more appropriate for the occasion. Hiccup changed quickly and checked himself to make sure his outfit looked decent; casual in boots, trousers, and a fine tunic and vest, but still far more elegant than his usual stable boy attire.

He stepped out to where Eret was waiting, and was greeted with a nod and a broad grin. “Great. Dagur is already ready too, he’s waiting outside. Come on.”

“One could think you're a bit eager to meet… Cami.” Hiccup remarked dryly, inspecting his fingertips to ineffectively hide his smirk – and also cover up his own nervousness.

“Well, I am looking forward to seeing her,” Eret emphasised. “Everything else…” he trailed off, shrugging.

Hiccup chuckled, but didn’t comment further. Who was he to tease his cousin about being eager to spend the night with his lover, after all? Freya, if he could, he’d turn on the spot and look for Astrid’s rooms without a second’s hesitation. But he couldn’t. Aside from the tremendous inappropriateness of such an action, he had his duties to follow in accompanying his master, and also had to... let off some steam.

. o O o .

“Wow, these cookies really are delicious!” Eret said; he received a couple of weird glances from passersby, but otherwise went without a reprimand for his behaviour. Hiccup would at least have expected a few giggles at the side of him trying to talk past his mouth full of cookies.

They had gotten the lemon-and-lavender-flavoured cookies Daniel had requested for his friend, but also a parcel of cinnamon-flavoured pastries for Cami. ‘I clearly remember her saying she’d like to try those,’ Dagur had said upon seeing them in the bakery, and Hiccup had to agree. He, too, remembered that conversation they’d once had, back in Eastervale. Back when his biggest problem had been to decide between becoming a squire or a stable master…

“Hey, they’re not for you,” Dagur chided, taking the parcel away from Eret to prevent it from being empty once they reached the Temple. Although, after glancing down at the delicious treats and swallowing, he handed them over to Hiccup. “Here, you take care of these. I don’t trust myself either.”

Hiccup bit back a sarcastic remark while Eret pouted, “Spoilsport,” and stuck out his tongue at Dagur when he was sure he wasn’t looking anymore.There was a playfulness in his tone though, a lightness Hiccup hadn’t heard during the last couple of weeks.

“I saw that!” Dagur commented nonetheless, making all three of them laugh.

It was a relaxed stroll through the streets of the capitol toward the Temple. Not many recognised them, not like when they were accompanied by Daniel or Astrid. They were just three young men, looking both important enough and intimidating enough to not be bothered.

“Oh, hey. That’s just what I’ve been looking for,” Eret suddenly exclaimed, and ran ahead without a warning. “Just wait here for a moment, I won’t be long.”

“Jewelry?” Dagur called after him, disbelievingly staring at the sign atop the shop Eret headed to. “I knew you were into some weird stuff, but that’s new.”

Eret, however, just snorted. “That’s not for me, idiot. I just wanted to get Cami a ‘Welcome to the capitol’ gift. I’m sure it’ll come in handy when she’s dealing with some of those stuck-up nobleman around here. Just give me a minute.” And with that, he was gone inside the shop.

Hiccup and Dagur shared a baffled look and a shrug. A minute of waiting turned into a couple more though, and when Eret finally returned, a small box tied shut with a bow in his hand, he found that Dagur had helped himself to an additional parcel of cookies of his own, from another nearby bakery, and Hiccup was carrying another additional parcel, if smaller than the ones filled with pastries. He smirked at Dagur, snatched one of the cookies for himself, and then nodded at Hiccup’s purchase.

“What’s that?” he asked, wiping away crumbs from the corner of his mouth.

Hiccup shrugged, a little self-conscious. “Well, since you both were about to bring Cami a small gift, I thought showing up empty-handed would be weird. So I got her a small something from that shop over there.” He nodded at a large window at the other side of the alley where small wooden statuettes of varying sizes and forms were at display. That was one of the amazing things about the capitol to Hiccup; with all of the glass they made here, glass windows were commonplace, such that even shops in the market had them.

“Heh, a good idea,” Eret announced cheerfully. “A bit of a personal touch to her new home. What did you get her?”

Hiccup placed the delegated parcels of cookies onto a rock nearby, certain they’d be safe from poaching now that Dagur had his own, and opened his purchase. Inside was a small but detailed carving of a running horse, made of smooth reddish-brown wood.

“Oh, she’ll like that,” Eret grinned. “She said the horses all around Eastervale would surely be what she missed the most.”

Hiccup nodded. “I know, I was there too.”

“Right…” Eret rubbed his back, a little sheepish, then suddenly paused. He leaned in to closer inspect the horse, and laughed. “It looks like Markor.”

Frowning, Hiccup glanced at the horse too – and had to agree. And while he often had arguments with himself in the quiet of the night, this was definitely an escalation from the back of his mind.

“True,” he said with a slight laugh, trying to cover up his sudden nervousness. “I didn’t notice; there were several horses of all kind, but this one somehow caught my eye, and…” he trailed off, shrugging. Anxious not to say something he shouldn’t. The truth was that, despite his sincere wish to get a gift for Cami to treat her, it had also bugged him that he couldn’t get Astrid any gifts. Just something small would do, something solid, as a reminder. Or as an apology for his utter stupidity... But that would be too noticeable, too dangerous. So he’d settled on just getting something for Cami, but hadn’t been able to keep his mind from whirling around Astrid anyway.

And apparently, that had even influenced his choice of gifts…

Shit.

. o O o .

As the three of them entered the Grand Aesir Plaza, Hiccup swallowed as carefully as he could manage, but Eret spotted his reaction. “Right, this is your first time here, isn’t it, Hiccup?”

Hiccup nodded, looking around at the glorious architecture on display.  

At the centre of the vast open square was a sacred grove of at least a dozen enormous trees and numerous smaller saplings, their leaves shed, but standing proud and tall. Statues of the Aesir, Vanir and some of the greater Jotunn ringed the grove.

But the outer periphery of the square was what really drew Hiccup’s attention. They’d entered through a covered tunnel, its walls and ceiling carved and painted with images from the sagas of the gods, and emerged into the square, giving him his first look at the place – an effect no doubt intended by the architect, and Hiccup had to give the him or her a mental salute for the effect.

The paving stones underneath their feet had the cobbles arranged in patterns of white, green and brown that suggested branches reaching out from the sacred grove and to the periphery. More trees grew in regular gaps in the pavement, and Hiccup noted that many of them were fruit trees, although the biggest and mightiest tree in the grove was a yew, still green and hardy despite the encroaching dark and cold. He remembered that this particular tree was supposedly almost a thousand years old, planted when the city was founded.

But the buildings... oh...

Where Hiccup had grown up, the temples were of wooden stave-and-post construction – built on vertical logs with one end sunk into a stone foundation and then a horizontal log across the top to connect them and form the structure. They could grow impressively complex, but they were still made of wood, of a tried and true – and boring and conservative – design.

Here, though... they had ventured into stone and glass.

Now that the initial shock had passed, Hiccup saw parallels with the newer wings of the castle, especially the residential wing, and he’d have to check later to see if the same architect had designed both structures – or maybe ask Daniel about it.  

A doubled columnade, connected by arches, ringed the vast space, creating a covered space that connected the various temples; the columns were carved to look like trees, and the arches to look like mingled branches. And the buildings themselves...

They were massive confections of intricately carved stone, with stained-glass windows filling massive portions of the open walls. Much like at the residential wing, Hiccup saw flying buttresses, but these were long and elegant compared to the much more muted structures at the castle. But their reinforcement allowed the piers to hold up most of the weight of the roofs, which enabled the architect to allocate all of that the wallspace to the massive glass windows, which glowed in the late autumn gloom from the lights inside.  

Undoubtedly, when the grand blots were held, this entire open space would be packed full of worshipers, many of them pilgrims from all over the kingdom, with the Fyrirs holding the sacrifices and prayers in the sacred grove itself.  

Suddenly a hand waved in front of his face.  “Hic?”

Hiccup blinked, and turned to look at Dagur, who wasn’t even bothering to hide his smirk.  “What?”

Eret and Dagur shared a grin, and Eret said cheerfully, “You’d think that you just saw a pretty Ástir do a striptease in front of you from the way that you reacted.” He reached over and gently poked Hiccup in the forehead. “And I don’t think it’s the... bust of Freya over there that caught your attention.”

Hiccup stuck his tongue out at the pair of them and they both laughed.  

They made their way in the plaza proper, and Eret and Dagur took turns playing tour guide; they’d been coming here since they were boys, so all of the wonder was long since worn off for them. In a bizarre way, Hiccup had found a second reason to be grateful that he hadn’t come to the capitol until he was an adult. The first was not growing up as Astrid’s brother, of course... but being able to appreciate such magnificence on their own merits for the first time as an adult, with all of the training and learning that had come with it, ranked on a good second place.

Much like the smaller temples elsewhere, the Temple complex functioned more as lodging, organization and work-spaces for the various Orders than as worship spaces, with the sacred grove fulfilling that function. So over there was the building that functioned as Frigga’s courthouse... there was the building where Freyr’s Order minted coins, blessed farming implements, and checked the weights and measures used by the merchants across the kingdom... there was Freya’s hospital for the sick – Hiccup saw a young mother carrying in a coughing child as they walked past – and right next to it was the home of the Ástir.

The door, carved and painted to resemble Fólkvangr, with Sessrúmnir visible in the distance, stood under a fifteen-foot-tall stained glass window of the goddess, riding her cat-pulled chariot, with Hildisvíni running at her side and wearing her cloak of falcon feathers – and nothing else – but before Hiccup could take a moment to appreciate either piece of art, Dagur and Eret each took one of his arms and practically hustled him through the door.

“Come back during the day,” Dagur said.

“It’ll look better, trust us,” Eret added.

Hiccup didn’t comment on their actual and rather transparent motivations, since they were right... and instead took in the foyer and the atrium beyond as they took off their boots and cloaks and handed them to an attendant waiting in the foyer, who took them and handed them small wooden chits with numbers on them.

Lush carpets were underfoot, insulating them from the cold stone, and, once past the foyer doors, Hiccup saw a cheery fire that burned in a large hearth which was surrounded by upholstered chairs and benches laden with cushions, most of them occupied. Tasteful sculptures of the goddess filled various niches in the walls, and Hiccup heard what sounded like running water. Turning towards the sound, his eyes went wide as he found the source – an honest-to-the-goddess waterfall inside the temple; water cascaded in a gentle flow down the stones of a five-foot-wide section of the wall between two windows and ended in a small pond on the floor.

“How...?” he asked, stepping towards it, but Eret’s hand clamped down gently – if firmly – around his upper arm, and he was pulled deeper into the atrium.  

Around the atrium, there were numerous groups of people, socializing, eating, or engaged in what looked like intense discussion. Some, going by their dress, were noblemen, while others were members of the Temple of various ranks, and others were more humble city folk.

“Good evening, Milords,” a silky voice sounded from behind him, and Hiccup turned with a start. In front of them stood a woman he dimly recognised from Eret’s accolade, but hadn’t cared to remember so far. The short blond hair didn’t make Freya’s Fyrir any less beautiful, and her robe of black satin and golden silk gave her an air of unquestionable dignity.

“Good evening, fair lady,” Eret greeted her, bowing deeply. Hiccup and Dagur followed his example.

The Fyrir nodded, then cocked her head with an unreadable look. “I see His Highness did not accompany you after all,” she stated. There was no question in her voice.

“Indeed,” Eret confirmed. “Sadly, urgent matters kept him busy. He asked us to deliver these–” he held out the box off cookies Daniel had asked them to obtain– ”to Ástir Kaden in his name.”

The Fyrir nodded once more, then lifted her hand to beckon toward a woman sitting in a nearby niche and chatting to a handful of younger women. She nodded, excused herself from the group, and came over, a friendly and curious look in her big brown eyes.

“Yes, Fyrir?” she asked in a melodic voice, light brown curls bobbing around her face with every movement.

“Kaden, my dear, these lords brought a gift for you.”

The woman, Kaden, turned, her puzzled eyes brightening when she spotted the box Eret held out for her. “The Prince sends his regards and his apology,” he announced formally. “He is tied up in his duties and won’t be able to make it here tonight. He wanted to make good on his promise, though.” He handed over the cookies, and Kaden’s smile grew a few shades warmer.

“Oh, that is very kind of him,” she announced, beaming. “Please, convey my honest gratitude toward him. My pupils and I will enjoy these greatly.” She was about to bob a curtsey and retreat when the Fyrir made her wait.

“I know that you are eager to return to your class,” Mala said, her tone somehow soft and firm at the same time. “But since you have more than enough time for them tonight, would you be so kind as to inform Cami that her visitors arrived?”

“Visitors?” Kaden’s eyebrows rose in surprise as she eyed Hiccup and the others, but quickly caught herself again. “Of course, Fyrir Mala. I’ll let her know immediately.” They watched her retreat and disappear up a flight of stairs.

While they waited, Hiccup went over and examined the waterfall, unable to help his curious nature. A few moments of examination revealed a pipe cunningly hidden among the stone that apparently led upwards.

“There’s a rainwater cistern on the roof that feeds it and several fonts in the building, if you were wondering,” the Fyrir’s voice came from behind him, sounding amused.

Hiccup turned, feeling a bit sheepish, but the Fyrir looked pleased. “Go, rejoin your friends. Kaden won’t be long.”

As Eret rolled his eyes at him, Hiccup returned to the pair of them where they’d snagged small bowls of light broth from a pot by the hearthfire. The Fyrir’s words proved to be accurate as Ástir Kaden returned down the staircase a few moments later, politely smiled at them as she walked past, and returned to her class, who cheered as they were offered the cookies.

“I’d say this is proof then that Daniel was telling the truth,” Dagur snickered as the young women passed the box around. “I mean, she wasn’t even mildly disturbed by him not showing up. And let’s be honest, a box of cookies is not that fancy a gift, but she obviously was happy enough. How does the saying go again?” He smirked. “Ah, yes. ‘A man is smitten with the Goddess’ chosen when the purse at his belt swells like the purse of his loins, and–

“–and the chosen feels the same when she finds room in her heart and her coffer for his boons,’” Eret finished. “Yes, yes, okay. So they’re not in love. Better that way anyway, I guess.”

There was an odd tone in his voice at that, and Hiccup gave him a curious glance; he was missing something.  All the saying meant was that you knew a man had fallen for one of the Ástir when his gifts grew extravagant... and she reciprocated when she kept them exclusively for herself, rather than sharing with the rest of the Temple. Like how the now-empty cookie box had been shared.

“Indeed,” Dagur agreed, then gestured toward an empty set of chairs. “But let’s sit down there. Walking here was exhausting.”

At that, Eret smirked. “What, you’re tired already? We didn’t even get started,” he teased. “How exactly do you plan to survive the next couple of hours?”

Dagur just cackled, and Hiccup couldn’t suppress some quiet laughter either as he followed them to sit down as well. Once seated comfortably, waiting for Cami to lead them to her rooms, he couldn’t keep his thoughts from running wild anymore though. He felt… torn. The prospect of spending a couple of… relaxing hours with Cami made him nervous in a way. Sure, this wouldn’t be their first time together, not by far. And being with an Ástir wasn’t meant to be romantic in any way either, not meant to replace the loving intimacy of a married couple. He should be looking forward to it, to get the brunt off the maddening desire raging within him. But he couldn’t shake off the thought that it was… not quite right. He couldn't stop thinking about Astrid,  about how much he would prefer to be with her tonight instead. But that was a thought that had no place at all in Freya's Temple, and he hastily fought to banish it into the depth of his chaotic mind, hoping for Cami to hurry to distract him.

He didn’t have to wait long, only a couple of minutes. By then, the three of them were engaged in a conversation about the benefits of short swords, when Dagur suddenly went rigid.

“Oh shit!” he cursed under his breath, making Eret and Hiccup look up at him in confusion. “And suddenly, I’m incredibly grateful for whatever prevented Daniel from coming with us,” he muttered, staring past them with wide eyes.

Hiccup turned in his seat – and froze as he spotted the young woman descending the stairs.

Her wild blond mane, usually only loosely bound if at all, was braided in a complicated pattern halfway around her head until it hung in a long plait down her back, ornate with colourful sparkling stones around a light coronet. She wore an elegant dress in varying shades of blue that highlighted her bright blue eyes, the wide skirts, embroidered with a pattern of swans, waving around her lower half like a waterfall. In addition, she wore elegant gloves that reached all the way to her upper arms, and she moved with an air of dignity he hadn’t seen on her before.

A part of Hiccup knew it was Cami, recognised her face between the costume. But for a moment, all he could see was Astrid, dressed as she’d been under that borrowed cloak, back at that first day at the stables.

. o O o .

This is a wonderful place to let this chapter end... don't you agree? O:)But again, this is not the last chapter before the hiatus after all. Keep your eyes open, there'll be another one, probably on Tuesday or Wednesday.

Next chapter

[the-everlasting-dream]

Q&A with Ana De Luca - Drake x MC

Summary: MC Elizabeth and Drake sit down for a post-honeymoon interview with Trend Magazine’s Ana De Luca for a light hearted Q&A session. 

A/N: I really wanted to contribute to @boneandfur​ ‘s TRR4Ever week but was too busy to commit to a full on fic/one shot so this was what came to my tired brain instead. Its probably totally crap but I kinda wanted it to be natural while throwing in a few of my own HC’s in there coz why not? Also im kinda proud of this aesthetic like its the first time i’ve made one of these

Permanent Tag list: @chantelle-x0x @choicessa @mariamatsuo @pbchoicesobsessed

For this month’s issue I, Ana De Luca, sat down with the Duke Drake and Duchess Elizabeth Walker of Atlantea for an exclusive look into married life for the recently wedded couple by asking them a series of questions sent in by our readers from what is appropriately dubbed the ’Newlywed Game' as opposed to the usual interview format.

[Ana De Luca] Hello Your Graces. Thank you for joining me today. I hope you had a pleasant vacation. 

[Elizabeth] Thank you so much for having us today Ms De Luca. We most certainly did. South America was beautiful wasn’t it darling? 

[Drake] Yes. 

 [E] You’ll have to forgive my husband -she blushes slightly as she says this, looking at him - He’s not used to being interviewed. 

[A] No apologies necessary Your Grace. I trust you were informed of the structure we will be employing today. 

[E] Yes we were and it sounds super fun, this Newlywed game. You’ll be asking us separate questions about each other, am I correct? 

[A] Yes. Shall we begin?

[D] Yep lets do it. And you can drop the whole duke-duchess thing. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to that title. 

[A] The first question is for you Drake. Where and when did you and the duchess share your first kiss?

[D] Wow straight to the point aren’t you? Ow! Elizabeth elbows him slightly in the ribs Umm our kiss actually took place at the Beaumont mansion a few months after we met. 

[A] Would I be right in assuming that was during the social season?

[D] Umm… Yes, yeah thats right. 

[A] Splendid. Now to Elizabeth. What was your first impression of your spouse? 

[E] My first impression hmm? She stifles a laugh as her husband eyes her expectantly. It wasn’t too different to everyone else’s. He was dark and broody. Extremely sarcastic and snarky, almost like he didn’t like me at first. But that quickly changed after I wore down his walls. 

[D] She basically annoyed me into loving her. 

[E] Is that a complaint I hear? 

[D] Complain? Me? Never.   

[A] Drake what adjective would you use describe Elizabeth on your wedding day?

[D] Just one?

[A] That's correct.

[D] Man there are so many…. One won’t be able to cover it... but I guess I’ll have to go with... radiant. She was practically glowing when she walked up the aisle and I felt like the luckiest man on the planet. 

[A] Wonderful. The readers will love this. Now Elizabeth do you get along with Drake’s family members?

[E] His mum is an angel. We only met after we got engaged but she is such a warm lovely person and we bonded immediately being Americans. I adore Savannah too. She and I have gotten so much closer over the engagement period and I’ve come to count on her as a second second sister. Her and her mother have the best stories from Drake’s childhood. 

[A] Can I persuade you into sharing any? 

The duchess glances at her husband who glares at her in warning. 

[E] I really value my life so I’m gonna have to decline on that one. 

[A] In that case, Drake what item of clothing does Elizabeth look best in? 

[D] Oh man… This is a hard one because she looks stunning in pretty much everything. 

[A] But if you had to pick one?

[D] I can’t there are too many to choose from… 

[A] Ok let me rephrase the question.. Is there an outfit of Elizabeth’s besides her wedding dress that completely blew you away the first time you saw her wear it? 

[D] Hmm when you phrase it like that… She’d worn tons of amazing ballgowns in the past but the green dress she wore the first night we met in New York will always be one of my favourites… He sighs contentedly, smiling shyly at the duchess. Does that count? 

[A] It most certainly does. Elizabeth what is his most irritating habit in the bedroom? 

[D] Now thats not an invasion of privacy at all… His tone is sarcastic but he glances at his wife expectantly as she thinks. 

 [E] Most irritating habit hm? Its not necessarily irritating but I think he should be more confident in his abilities because he is a fantastic lover. 

Her words make the duke blush slightly as they share a loving gaze. 

 [A] How would you describe her first thing in the morning?

[D] Hah that's an easy one. She’s like a sleepy little puppy who doesn’t want to get out of bed. Especially in winter I’ll have to pull her out of the layers of blankets she’s wrapped herself in and if I don’t actually make sure she’s standing up with her eyes open, there’s a high chance she’ll just go right back to bed again. 

 [E] What can I say? I love my sleep. They share a short laugh.   

 [A] That is just adorable. Elizabeth, now I’m sure Drake considers himself a very manly man so tell me how does he like his steak cooked?

[E] Easy. Medium rare. Usually he’d be happy to eat anything but he’s extremely particular about his steaks, he’ll send them right back if they’re not satisficatory.  

[D] That was one time! And it was so rare it was practically walking off the plate.  

[E] One time too many. You should have known that when you married me I’d never let you get away with such diva-like behaviour. 

[A] Expanding on that now, who is the best cook?

[D] Elizabeth for sure. I don’t know how she does it but she can make an incredible dish from just what we have in the fridge that's somehow way better than some of the food at these courtly functions.  

[E] Aww babe you’re too kind. 

[D] I’m just being honest. He smiles, squeezing her hand. 

[A] So if you’ve got all the cooking covered Elizabeth, what is one thing that Drake does for you that he hates to do but does it anyways because he loves you?

[E] I rely on him mostly to do all the repairs and handyman stuff around the house because I have no idea what I’m doing if it were up to me. I don’t think he hates it though. He once installed an entire shoe rack for me just because I mentioned I was needed more space to store them. 

[A] That's kind of a coincidence because my next question is how many pair of shoes does Elizabeth own?

[D] I honestly have no idea. But I’ll install as many shoe racks as needed because she has way too many to count. 

[A] Elizabeth who would you cast to play Drake in a movie?

The duchess’ face shifts into a wide grin. 

[E] Actually we were just talking about this recently. I’d been scrolling through my Instagram and some people seem to think that Drake looks like Daniel DiTomasso from Witches of East End. Just with slightly shorter hair but I am starting to agree with them. Don’t you think? 

She pulls up a picture of the actor on her phone before handing it to me. 

[A] He does bear a striking resemblance now that I look at it.

[D] I have no idea what you’re talking about. I don’t even have blue eyes!   

[A] Alright then speaking of appearances, does Elizabeth have any pet peeves about hers?

[D] She is very very VERY particular about her hair. She sometimes plans her entire week around her hair washing schedule. 

[E] Hey don’t scoff at me! Not all of us can rock the messy bedhead look. It takes a lot of work to look this good.   

[A] And my final question to both of you now… As it is leading up to Valentines day, when did you realise that your spouse could possibly be the one? 

[E] You first. 

[D] Well I guess I’m going first then. We’d had lots of moments before this, like the time all of us snuck out for cronuts or  when we were stargazing but the first time I actually saw her in a different light was on my birthday a couple of years ago. She got us all to sneak out of the palace to go to a Western themed bar and we spent the rest of the night drinking, line dancing and bull riding with all our friends. 

[E] That soon?! I thought you still hated me back then? You barely even let me hug you. 

[D] I never hated you. I just kept you at arms length because I thought you’d never see me that way. 

[E] And look how far we’ve come since then. I think for me was a little earlier than that. Time-wise everything kinda blurs together but that moment for me was the time we were in Olivia's wine cellar in Lythikos when I finally learned that there was more to you than just cynical comments and liking whiskey. After that I just couldn’t look at you the same way again, knowing that there was a soft marshmallow heart under that burnt exterior. 

  He gives her a soft smile before clearing his throat awkwardly.

[D]  Is this interview over yet? I would like to leave with some semblance of dignity left before my wife decides to give away all my secrets. 

[A] I’m sure you’ll be relieved when I say yes it is. Duke and Duchess I thank you once again for your time today. You are a beautiful couple and I wish you all the best in the future. 

[D] Thank you. 

[E] Thank you very much for having us Ms De Luca. 

[A] The pleasure was all mine.

[wolfpawn]

I Hate You, I Love You, Chapter 88

Chapter Summary -  Tom meets Danielle's uncle accidentally before the pair discuss a few matters, one of which Danielle is less than willing to discuss.

Previous Chapter

Rating - Mature (some chapters contain smut)

Triggers - references to Tom Hiddleston’s work with the #MeToo Movement. That chapter will be tagged accordingly.

authors Note - I have been working on this for the last 3 years, it is currently 180+ chapters long.  This will be updated daily, so long as I can get time to do so, obviously.

tags: @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog​ @jessibelle-nerdy-mum​ @nonsensicalobsessions​ @damalseer​ @hiddlesbitch1​ @winterisakiller​ @fairlightswiftly​ @salempoe​​ @wolfsmom1​​

If you wish to be tagged, please let me know.

Tom yawned as he walked through the small home to the kitchen, paying little heed to his surrounds as he filled the kettle, it was only halfway through filling it that he realised the appliance was already warm, indicating that it had been heated already, but Danielle was still very much in bed, asleep. He had hoped to bring her the tea as he woke her. Frowning, he turned around and took a slight step back as an older man sat at the table across the room, quietly smirking into his own mug of tea. Tom thanked whatever form of divine inspiration caused him to put on pyjama pants and not just his boxers.

The man rose from his chair, clearly eyeing Tom up and down and walked over to him. "So, you are the Brit that is keeping Danielle over in England? You're taller than I expected."

"Her Uncle Michael?" Tom assumed, going by the photo he had seen in Danielle's home and his odd accent, a mixture of the many places he had resided.

"Aye, that's me. And what were you christened, since no one told me a name for you?" He extended his hand.

"Tom, " Tom said, putting out his own hand. "I had not thought anyone else was here."

"I had noticed," Michael chuckled, his attention going to Tom's accent. "I spent a few years in London myself, you're from close enough there, aren't you?"

"I am, Oxford is where I spent my childhood."

"Fancy spot, and nowadays?"

"London City."

"I was in Highbury for a few years myself, nice spot, good Irish contingent, yourself?"

"Belsize." Tom cleared his throat as he spoke, suspecting that Danielle's uncle was very much not going to stop until he got everything from him.

"Oxford, Belsize, your not from the sort of background that usually has a girlfriend from the background like Danielle's," Michael commented. "How does a West of Ireland girl catch some wealthy boy's attention?"

Tom felt somewhat uncomfortable at the interrogation he was facing, especially before his morning tea. "She lived next to my mother, of course, someone like Danielle, bright, intelligent and vivacious caught my Mum's attention immediately, so she became part of the family, it went from there."

"Aye, she's like that, you can't help but admire her." Michael nodded. "She's got a hell of a temper when pushed though."

Tom chuckled slightly, "I am well aware, I have borne witness to and the brunt of such."

Michael studied him a moment longer before laughing. "Well, as long as you're aware of what you're in for with her." he slapped his hand on Tom's shoulder. "She is equal parts Mattie and Bridget, and by Christ, is that both a great joy and a terrible warning. She doesn't suffer fools, as this malarkey with Bernie would suggest."

"Yes," Tom's brows furrowed, the alteration in Michael's demeanour told him that the older man was no longer acting as though he was part of Scotland Yard. "Do you think it can be resolved?"

Michael sighed. "I cannot afford ten grand on it, my wife had surgery back home and isn't working at present, and Lourda has two kids in college in Limerick and Dublin so she cannot afford it either. And with Danielle in Britain, what way is there to stop her?"

"If it could be kept?" Tom prodded.

"I will tell you this here and now, Thomas, if I could make sure my family home, the home I was born and reared in could stay in the family, I would be a happy man, but realistically, there is little chance of that happening." He swore solemnly. "I'm getting far too old for this, Mattie, God rest him, used keep the auld bitch in line; Danielle, fair dues to her, is of the same mould, but legally, Bernie can force the sale, whatever anyone else wants be damned." Tom did not get to reply before there was a sound of movement from upstairs. "I guess someone is up."

Tom threw on the kettle as he heard Danielle's footsteps on the stairs. "What devilment are you up to?"

"Just talking to the man that according to you, Siobhan was talking out her arse about," Michael commented.

"Jesus, if that isn't worrying. Whatever he says," Danielle walked into the room, looking at Tom, "ignore him, he thinks he holds authority."

"I am the last man of the Hughes name I'd like to remind you." Michael pointed out.

"Not the last Hughes though," Danielle smirked.

"Aye, that's your plan so, tag this poor man along and keep the name?"

"I don't have to take a man's name if I ever get married."

"Jesus, you're awkward for the sake of it so you are." Michael shook his head.

"Did you honestly come out here to just get a cup of tea and go snooping?" Danielle laughed at her uncle.

"I need a good cuppa before heading back home." he shrugged. "Listen, Danielle." She stopped smiling and gave her uncle her full attention. "You know I can't afford this at the moment, but you know Mam and Dad would never have wanted this place sold."

"It was why they divvied it up, so everyone would look after it."

Michael nodded. "If it can be, I support what is needed, just let me know." Danielle nodded. "Now, I am off to the airport." he extended his hand to Tom, "You better look after my niece, Thomas," he warned.

Tom nodded as he shook his hand. "I will, and good to meet you."

Michael nodded before turning to his niece. "Danielle, do what you can, no better woman for it." He embraced her in a hug. "He's fair fancy, but I think your dad would have liked him anyway," he whispered.

Danielle smiled. "Thank you, Mike, I will let you know how things go here."

"Do, sure and Lourda too." with a final wave, her uncle turned and left the small cottage.

"So, where's my tea?" Danielle grinned playfully, causing Tom to grin and pull her to him.

"I got sidetracked by unexpected uncles."

"I dare say you did." She laughed. "But I still want some tea." she turned and began to make it.

* "What time are you flying back tomorrow?"

"Early enough, I have to get a few things done, and then the fun for the press tour starts." Tom sighed, pulling Danielle to him. "I wish you were coming home too."

"I have too much going on here."

"Would it not be easier to come home and get the loan and then come back and deal with it, and what about that guy that wants to meet you about your exam?"

"I have to see if I can stop here putting it up for sale before I can even consider going into NatWest and asking for a loan." Danielle groaned. "As for him," she inhaled deeply, "It’s all so much at once."

Tom watched as Danielle began to stress out again. "Elle?"

"What?" she noted something in his eyes.

"I was thinking."

"Oh, Jesus."

"I want you to listen to everything I say before reacting, please." Danielle looked at him worriedly. "You have a decent amount of the money for the house already, don't you?" She nodded slightly. "And you know the bank would give you more?"

"I don't know if they will, but I have no reason to believe they wouldn't. I have collateral, my credit card is never used, I am a good candidate." She explained, "Why?"

"If I.…"

"No." She cut in and pulled back from him.

"Elle, please, just listen to me." Tom pleaded. "Why won't you even listen?"

"Because I know what you are going to say and I don't want to discuss it."

"You have no idea what I am going to say, and why not discuss things?"

"You are going to suggest you spot me the cash, right?" He did not respond. "No Tom, I am not even going to consider it."

"Why not?"

"Because I am not a money-hungry bitch only interested in your financial worth." She snapped back. "I am not doing that."

"I know you're not and that is why I am offering." Danielle just shook her head. "Elle, I am suggesting this because one, you and I both know, the sooner we get your aunt off your back, the sooner it is sorted, and two, because I know you love this house, because it stops this from going any further, and most importantly because I want you to stop lying awake wondering about it, I want you to actually enjoy yourself again. You are incredibly stressed since before I got here, and yes, I am a part to blame, but I like to think we are fixing that and I want to fix this too." She said nothing, instead, she looked at him guiltily. "I know you are not sleeping, you have to force yourself to be yourself in front of me because you are anxious and are trying to hide it, please, let me help."

"It's not possible." she shook her head.

"Why not? I go home tomorrow, transfer the…wait, I can just transfer it to you now." he got out his laptop and got his banking page up. "Yes, I can."

Danielle bit her lips together. "How would I withdraw it, there is no NatWest's here?"

Tom typed on his laptop for a moment. "Is there an Ulster Bank?"

"Yes, that's Irish, I think."

"Well it's part of the grouping with NatWest according to this, so there you go." He smiled.

"I don't have an Ulster Bank account though." She pointed out.

"What have you here?"

"Just a credit union account."

Tom typed for a moment before grinning. "All credit unions have IBAN numbers, so yes, you can transfer to it." He looked at her. "We can have this done today Elle. You can come home and meet this American guy, I can be selfish and admit I want a few more days with you before the tour starts, I know you would have to wait for legal papers to be drawn up and everything, but we can do this right now Elle, just give the word. You are trying to be polite and decline via excuses, but I have rubbished them all, I know you don't want to do it, I know you would never ask this of me, but I want to do this for you, Elle, to make you happy, that makes me happy."

Danielle continued to think about it as he looked at her, pleading silently for her to accept his offer, to end the stalemate that was in play.

[niallsstainedcoffeecup]

The Road Trip Part 4

Hey guys, here is the final part of the best friend! Harry fic.  I hope you all enjoy it.  As always feedback and requests are welcomed.  

           Sunlight broke through the clouds, shining into Sheila’s room.  Harry tossed and turned until he woke up.  He reached an arm out, searching for Sheila but all he found was a cold dip in the mattress.  Harry opened his eyes, looking around the plain room.  Harry yawned, propping himself up on his elbows.  A neon pink sticky note on Sheila’s bathroom door caught Harry’s eye.  He rolled out of bed, shuffling toward the door.  Sheila apologized for leaving, but work called her in.  She gave Harry permission to stay if he needed to. Harry’s skin felt dirty and sticky. A part of him argued that this feeling was guilt for not answering Luna’s call, but Harry decided to wash off that realization.  Harry finished showering and redressed in last night’s clothes.  Harry walked down the street, breathing in the fresh air. Harry’s heart was revived.  Was Harry going to see Sheila again?  No, but he was no longer shackled to his feelings for Luna.  Harry messaged Luna, asking if she wanted to grab breakfast with him.  Harry’s guilt worsened when Luna did not respond.  Luna always responded after one second, but she left Harry on read.  Maybe she was with Daniel.  Harry walked into his room, and changed out of his dirty clothes.  The fact that Luna still had yet to respond worried Harry. Even if Luna were with Daniel, she would have messaged him back by now.  Harry jogged across the hall to Luna’s room.  Harry knocked on Luna’s door, but silence answered. “Lun, if you are in there, please open the door,” Harry called out. One painful minute passed leading Harry to curse and bang on the door.  Whenever Luna refused to answer the door after Harry’s panicked knocking, Harry planned on asking the front desk for a key.  His best friend and love of his life might be in danger.  Harry jogged down the stairs, too impatient to wait for the elevator.  Harry slid on the waxed linoleum floor, catching himself on the desk.  The woman behind the desk looked at Harry as if he were insane.   “Hi, I’m sorry.  My best friend is not answering her phone, and she is not opening her door.  Can you lend me a key?  I am afraid that she is in danger,” Harry rushed out. The woman frowned, “Sir, I am afraid I cannot give you another customer’s key.  I can send an employee up to her room.” Harry nodded, “Fine, you may send someone else up.  She’s in room 310.” The woman typed on her computer but furrowed her eyebrows when she came across the room.  Harry’s heart dropped with fear.  What did she know that Harry did not? “Sir, are you sure that is your friend’s room. I have it here that someone checked out of the room this morning.” Everything around Harry slowed down.  The woman’s voice slurred into nonsense. Harry’s heart rate picked up, and his head began to spin.  Harry stumbled backward into a chair.  Where was Luna?  Why did she leave him?  Luna needed Harry's help, and he wasn't there.  Harry placed the blame on himself.  

           Harry paced around his room, dialing Luna’s number for the fifteenth time.  Did Daniel force Luna to leave?  Did she take Harry’s argument seriously and decide to leave for good?  Did she rush home because her cat needed her?  Where was she? “Dammit!” Harry shouted, kicking a nearby chair over.   Harry dragged his fingers through his hair, sending another message to Luna.  Harry wondered who he could call for information.  Luna surely would have called their friend group last night.  Should Harry ask Niall, Kassie, or Liam?  Niall often undersold any story.  Harry once told Niall that his dog was very ill, but Niall told Luna that Harry’s dog had a cold.  Kassie oversold any detail in a story.  One night, Harry argued with two sexist frat boys, Kassie told everyone that Harry fought off an entire frat house.  One could rely on Liam’s accurate portrayal of each story.  Harry dialed Liam’s number, hoping he would answer. Liam was not afraid to call out his friends when they were acting stupid.   “Hello?” Harry sighed with relief, “Liam.  It’s Harry, how are you?” “Harry, I’m good.  Are you calling about Luna?” Harry nodded even though Liam could not see him, “Yes.” “H, she’s mad.  I am not supposed to tell you where she went.” Harry groaned, “What did I do?” “Well, you upset her with that argument. That was low, even for you.  She spent the entire day alone, and when she returned, she caught Daniel cheating on her.” “What?” Harry growled, wishing he had caught Daniel so he could deal with the scumbag. “Yeah, he’d been dating women in each town. She was upset about Daniel, but when you denied her call, she said that was the worst heartbreak.” The guilt from earlier crashed into Harry, “I should’ve answered the call.  I’m an idiot.” “Harry, I couldn’t agree more, but we have a bigger problem.  Luna left to explore the world by herself.  She said something about finding herself and thinking things out.” Concern set in, “She’s exploring the world all alone?  What if something happens?” “I’ll call someone and find out where she is. I’ll call you back with the answers. Relax H.  I’m sure she’ll call you.  You two are best friends.  Nothing can separate you guys.” Harry nodded, ending the call.  Harry wished Luna stuck around.  All of Harry’s surprises washed down the drain.  Last Christmas, Luna read Wuthering Heights. She hinted toward visiting the moors, but could not afford the full experience.  Harry found a hotel that was located on the moors and planned an entire tour around the area.  Luna would have loved the surprise, but the surprise disappeared the minute Luna did.

           Harry’s phone buzzed across the room causing Harry to jump toward it.  A message from Sheila popped up on the screen.  Harry sighed with defeat, reading over Sheila’s text.  She asked Harry out again, but Harry’s heart could not say yes.  Once Harry found out that Luna had left, he realized that his heart was devoted to Luna. He couldn’t date someone else while his friend needed him.  Harry apologized for declining and explained that something had come up which made him leave early.  Harry shoved his clothes inside of his suitcase.  Harry replayed last night’s events over in his head.  He wondered what would have happened if he hadn’t gone out on that date.  Would Luna spend the entire night with Harry and miss Daniel cheating on her?  Would Harry catch Daniel cheating and punch him out? What if he answered that damn phone call?  Would he race back to the hotel and take care of her?  Would his bitter heart deny Luna?  Would Luna fall in love with Harry?  Harry shook off his daydreams and focused on packing.  He needed to be ready this time when Luna needed him.  

           Luna strolled around the cloudy town.  Last night she packed everything and left in a bus. Whenever Harry denied her call, she swore that she had never felt a heartbreak worst than in that moment. Liam attempted to keep her calm, but her mind had already decided her fate.  She couldn’t sit around and wait for Harry.  Harry would return with that woman, and she could not watch Harry fall in love in front of her.  Would Harry even notice if she had left?  She decided to explore the world by herself.  Harry wouldn’t care if she wasn’t by his side.  He stated that he regretted coming on this trip with her. Maybe that is why she checked out of her room.  Once she left, she called Daniel and told him to go back and pick up his things.  After that call, she deleted any remnants of Daniel from her life.  The bus stopped in a different town.  Luna found a hotel and slept for what was left of the night.  Her heart continued to ache, but in the morning she felt refreshed. She showered and ordered breakfast from the hotel service.  Luna checked her phone, rolling her eyes when Harry’s name flashed across the screen. Of course, now that the woman left him, Harry came crawling back to Luna.  Did he even notice that she was gone?  The next few messages and calls answered that question.  Luna’s hands twitched with the desire to answer Harry’s calls.  She huffed, turning her phone off.  Luna needed to clear her mind, so she ventured out of the hotel.  She passed shops, admiring the items in each window. Luna walked through the aisles of a bookstore, searching for anything to take her mind off of Harry.  Her hand paused at Harry’s favorite book.  Luna remembered when Harry read the book and only discussed it for the next month.  That’s what Luna loved about Harry.  Whenever he found a new obsession, he loved it with his entire heart.  Luna turned her phone on, eyes widening when Harry’s missed calls and messages popped up.  Harry refused to give up on reaching out.  Luna’s heart fluttered at the meaning of it all.  Did he care about her?  Luna saw a missed call from Kassie.  Kassie expressed a million ways that Luna could run into trouble if she left that night, but Luna shrugged Kassie’s words off.  Luna figured she better answer Kassie’s calls before Kassie sent an entire army to save Luna.   “Luna, where have you been?  We’ve tried calling you like a hundred times!” Kassie sternly stated. Luna giggled, “Sorry mom.  I am okay.  I am currently exploring the town.  I needed a few moments alone with my thoughts.” “Are you going to answer Harry’s call?” Kassie wondered. Luna sighed, “Kass, I can’t call him.  He broke my heart.” “How did he break your heart?” “He didn’t answer my call last night.  He chose a random woman over me,” Luna explained. Kassie giggled, “Luns, you did that with Daniel.  You told him to leave you alone because Daniel wanted that.  Why do you even care?” Luna rolled her eyes, “I did not do that. I care because he’s my best friend.” “Harry should wait for your call, and come running every time?  Honey, I don’t even do that.  Harry has always been more than a friend, and you know that.” “That’s not true,” Luna hissed, ignoring the butterflies in her stomach. Kassie snorted, “You are in love with him. I remember when you would come home and complain about Harry’s latest girlfriend.  That’s why you dated Zayn, and do you remember why he broke up with you for the last time?” Luna shivered, recalling her last argument with Zayn.  Zayn and Harry were friends but were never close like Zayn was with the rest of the group. Zayn’s hatred of Harry grew whenever Luna refused to spend less time with Harry.  When Zayn broke up with Luna, he told her to fall in love with Harry. Luna at the time did not recognize her feelings for Harry were more than a friend should feel.  Luna cried for days over Zayn.  Harry spent every day with her until she smiled and felt okay again. Luna still refused to notice her feelings and met Daniel two weeks later.   “Zayn knew that I loved Harry.” “Why did Daniel leave you?” Luna gasped, “I’m in love with Harry.  No wonder I felt horrible when I realized I missed my chance.  Last night I pictured Harry ending up with the woman.  I imagined him choosing her over me.  Last night I knew that I had lost the chance.” Kassie squealed, “And he loves you too.” “Does he love me?” Luna asked, clutching her chest with the hope that Harry felt the same way. “Why else would he be going mental trying to find you.” Luna grinned, enjoying the feeling of her heart fluttering at the thought of Harry.  Luna’s chance did not fade away last night.  

           Harry sped down the highway, singing along with whoever played on the radio.  His heart sped up at the thought of finally telling Luna how he felt.  Liam called Harry an hour earlier, telling him where Luna had gone.  Liam did not tell Harry about Luna’s feelings because Liam did not want to meddle in his friend’s lives.  Harry planned his speech, choosing certain memories to show how long he had been in love with Luna.  Luna recalled Harry mentioning his love with roses.  Harry called it cliché, but it was anything but cliché.  Rows of different colored roses faced Luna.  Each color meant something different.  Luna chose one red rose, one yellow rose, and a peach-colored rose.  Harry could even press the petals in his sketchbooks and forever remember the day that his best friend fell in love with him.  Luna couldn’t wait to see Harry.  Spending a few hours apart from Harry made Luna count down the minutes until they could meet again.  

           Harry parked at Luna’s hotel.  Luna received Harry’s text, asking for her room number. Luna’s heart sped up as her fingers clumsily typed her response.  Harry’s heart fluttered with each rising elevator level.  Luna unlocked her door, impatiently waiting for Harry’s arrival. Harry jogged down the wide hallways, passing each room number.  Harry breathed in, shakily knocking on Luna’s door.  Luna inhaled, telling herself that the Harry behind the door was the same Harry that she fell in love with. “Who is it?” Luna nervously asked. “Maid service,” Harry stuttered out through anxious giggles. Luna smirked, opening the door, “Wow. You are one handsome maid.” Harry’s eyes widened at Luna’s appearance. Luna seemed to be glowing.  Her hair cascaded down her arms, her eyes shined like stars in the sky, and her dress flowed around her beautiful body.  Luna gasped, taking in Harry.  His short hair looked tamed yet messy enough for Luna to not worry about later on when she kissed him.  His emerald green eyes held a love deeper than the ocean.  Harry’s pink shirt and black jeans fit his tall, lanky body.  Harry looked as if the sun pecked Harry’s skin, creating an orange glow around him. “I missed you,” Harry sniffled, pulling Luna into his arms. Tears pricked Luna’s eyes, “I missed you too.” Harry pulled away, wiping at his eyes, “You scared me.” “I’m sorry.  I should’ve answered your calls,” Luna mumbled, cupping his cheeks. Harry shook his head, “I should’ve answered your call.  No one is as important as you are to me.” Luna blushed, “Harry, I need to tell you something.” “I have something to tell you as well. May I come into your room?” Luna nodded, sliding over so Harry could slip in.  Luna pointed toward the couch, watching Harry shuffled over to the couch.  Luna plopped down next to Harry.  Harry grinned, reaching for her hands. “Luna, I’m sorry about last night.  To be honest, I was upset about Daniel.” Luna furrowed her eyebrows, “What do you mean?” Harry sighed, “Luna.  I’m in love with you.  During the trip, I became jealous of Daniel.  He had you, and he was always stealing you away.  He even told me to back off.  I thought that arguing with you and sleeping with someone else would fix that.  I was wrong. When I couldn’t find you, I nearly broke down.  You are my life.  I don’t know what to do without you in my life.  If you do not feel the same way…” Luna shushed Harry, “I feel the same way. I didn’t understand why the thought of you moving on hurt me so much, but Kassie made me realize that I love you.” Harry chuckled, “Niall and Kassie helped me realize that I love you.” Luna giggled, “I guess they played matchmaker again.” Harry shook his head, cupping Luna’s cheeks, “I still would have said that I love you.” Luna blushed, watching Harry’s eyes dart down at Luna’s lips.  Luna licked her plump lips, leaning closer to Harry.  Harry scooted closer, leaning his head down.  Luna’s hands wrapped around Harry’s neck, pulling him to her lips. Harry sighed into the kiss, loving the feeling of Luna’s lips on his.  Luna tugged him closer, needing to feel and taste more.  Harry thanked the mint gum for saving his breath.  Luna’s hands tugged on Harry’s hair, which led to Harry letting out quiet whines.  The passionate kiss ended when Harry’s heart had too much.  A smile broke apart the kiss. “I loved that too much.  I love you, Luna,” Harry whispered breathlessly. Luna kept her forehead connected to Harry’s, “I loved that too.  You aren’t going to give me up after a few months right?” “Nope.  I love you too much.  I think we might beat Niall and Kassie in the cutest couple category.” Luna giggled, “Oh wait.  I have a gift for you!” Harry laughed, watching Luna dart across the room.  Luna revealed three roses.  “Thank you, what do they mean?” Harry asked, admiring the roses. “Well, the red one is for love, and I love you. The yellow is one for friendship, and you are the best friend I could ever ask for.  The peach one is to express thanks, and I want to thank you for everything.” Harry’s eyes teared up, “This is so romantic and sweet.  Thank you, I’ll save them.” Luna grinned, “You can even keep the roses in a sketchbook.” “You are smart.  I am so lucky to have you in my life.  I had an entire speech planned out, but your gift blew it out of the water.  Can I take you on a date tonight?” Luna nodded eagerly, “Of course.  Will you stay in my room tonight?” “I wouldn’t want to stay anywhere else,” Harry winked, stealing a kiss from Luna.  Luna pulled away, “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to your kisses.  I could kiss you all day.” Harry laughed, tugging Luna onto his lap. Harry had never been happier than in that moment.  

           Harry held Luna’s hand, swinging their hands through the chilly wind.  Luna pulled Harry’s sweater closer to her body.  Harry noted the change in temperature and gave Luna his sweatshirt before she caught a chill.  Luna leaned into Harry, discussing the different types of constellations.  Harry could listen to Luna’s sweet voice each day. Her voice was like music to his ears. Harry found a Thai restaurant that he knew Luna would love.  Luna tracked down a frozen yogurt shop that Harry would adore.  Their entire night was planned out, and nothing felt different. Harry expected to feel awkward, but it felt like any other time he went out with Luna, but this time he could kiss and hold her.   “Hey, do you think sharks ever wish fish would accept them into their friend group?” Luna asked, smiling widely at Harry. “Oh, I’m sure, they can’t even attend school.” Luna giggled, rolling her eyes at Harry’s fish joke, “You are a dork.” “And you aren’t?  You started this conversation,” Harry joked, poking Luna’s side. “Oi, poke me again, and I’ll tickle you.” Harry squirmed away from Luna’s hands. Luna giggled, chasing after Harry. The couple only stopped teasing each other when they found the restaurant.   Luna cheered, “I missed a good Thai plate.” “I knew you did,” Harry smirked, leading her inside.   Luna asked Harry about a recent book she noticed on his phone.  Harry asked Luna if Liam told Luna how her cat was.  After dinner, Luna led Harry to their dessert. “I love frozen yogurt.  I don’t feel as guilty,” Harry mumbled. “I know, what flavor do you want?” Harry paused, “I don’t know.  Why don’t we surprise each other with a cup of yogurt.” Luna nodded, running toward the machines. Luna surprised Harry with a birthday cake yogurt with sprinkles and gummy bears.  Harry surprised Luna with a chocolate yogurt with raspberries, strawberries, and sprinkles.  Luna chowed down on her yogurt, while Harry decided to tell Luna about her surprise. “Luns, are we continuing our trip?” Luna nodded, “Unless you want to go home.” Harry shook his head, “No.  I have a surprise for you.  Do you remember when you read Wuthering Heights?” Luna nodded, hoping Harry was going where her mind went, “Are we visiting the moors?” “Yes, I found a hotel on the moors.  We even get to explore the moors with a professional person who knows all about Emily Bronte.” Luna squealed, leaping toward Harry, “I love you.” Harry laughed, kissing Luna’s chocolatey lips, “I love you too.” Harry and Luna ended the night with one of Harry’s rom-coms.  They couldn’t wait to continue their trip as a couple.

[olgagarmash]

Mental health online: Police posts of crises may traumatize – WPLG Local 10

EDITOR’S NOTE — This story includes discussion of suicide. If you or someone you know needs help, please call the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 1-800-273-8255.

The videos are difficult to watch.

In one, a man dangles over the edge of an Oklahoma City overpass, his legs swinging in midair as police grab his arms and pull him from the brink. In another, a woman hangs high above the Los Angeles Harbor as a half-dozen officers drag her, head-first, up the side of the bridge. The panicked voices of cops cry out, “We got you, we got you!” just before they pin her to the ground and pull out handcuffs.

The short clips were posted on official law enforcement social media accounts, part of a longstanding practice by police agencies to showcase their lifesaving efforts online — especially in 2021 as desperation grows for positive press amid accusations of excessive force and racism following George Floyd’s murder, and rising gun violence and killings.

But with renewed attention on officer interactions with people who are suffering from mental health issues, experts and advocates are taking another look at these posts with an eye toward whether they exploit the very victims law enforcement just saved.

“It’s like we were living in this tragedy with them,” said Kevin Berthia, a mental health advocate who has survived his own suicide attempts. “Now how is that not creating trauma for anybody else? Who else is this triggering?”

The posts are easy to find on Facebook, Instagram and Twitter. Police departments nationwide may upload them without the permission of the person in crisis — though their identities are obscured — without a warning about contents and without consulting mental health professionals.

Debbie Plotnick, vice president for state and federal advocacy at Mental Health America, reviewed a half-dozen from around the country.

“Yes, they helped get a person down and that is commendable,” she said, but added: “I’m not seeing that this has value in helping people’s mental health.”

While police say mental health is their priority, the footage appears to tell a different story. Law enforcement agencies have long tried to showcase the harrowing and dangerous work of fighting crime and saving lives, and the feeds also include officers delivering babies, acts of kindness and shows of strength.

The New York Police Department, along with images of smiling cops, often tweets detailed captions that include the exact pier someone jumped from or the number of pills they swallowed before the officers “saved” them. Other posts include videos from the scene.

Yet the American Association of Suicidology specifically suggests that any reporting on suicide or suicide attempts not include the method or location. The association recommends that photos and videos from the scene also be excluded, even if the person’s identity is concealed.

The NYPD declined requests for comment.

Some experts fear copycats, saying such detailed posts — like the recent Los Angeles Police Department posts with body-cam footage of the woman’s suicide attempt on the bridge — basically give a manual to vulnerable people.

“Here’s a spot on the bridge where it literally took like six uniformed police officers to drag this person back over the side,” said Jonathan Singer, president of the American Association of Suicidology.

The LAPD declined to comment, but said in a statement that it does not have a specific policy in these cases. The agency said it strives to protect the individual’s identity but does not typically seek permission beforehand.

In the 55-second video — posted to Facebook, Twitter and Instagram less than a month after the incident — police were called to the bridge in San Pedro after the woman was seen climbing over the side. The scene is fraught with tension — rushing wind, the woman’s panicked breathing, the squawking of the radios echoing off the bridge’s metal, the clicking of handcuffs.

“Great teamwork resulted in her receiving the help she needed,” the LAPD’s posts said, with a link to the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline’s website. “Remember, you are never alone and there is always help.”

In Oklahoma City, the overpass video posted to the police department’s Facebook page in May includes body-cam footage and interviews with responding officers. The man’s face is blurred out, though the department did not seek his permission before posting the video.

The final clip shows the man being loaded into a police cruiser with the text: “After rescuing the man, officers took him to the hospital and started the process of getting him the help he needed.” The phone number of the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline follows.

Master Sgt. Gary Knight, a spokesperson for the Oklahoma City Police Department, said the goal was showing residents how the actions of the officers saved the man’s life during the two-hour incident.

“The last thing we ever want to do is hinder somebody’s recovery when they’ve been in a state of crisis,” Knight said. “We’re not out here to try to make somebody’s condition worse. That’s why we showed up in the first place — to try to help that person.”

Daniel Reidenberg, executive director of the Minnesota-based Suicide Awareness Voices of Education, said such social media posts may actually deter viewers from calling 911, for fear they might also get handcuffed or arrested.

“It’s too complex of an issue to boil down into a video like that,” he said.

Ronnie Walker agrees. Her stepson died by suicide when he was a college junior, prompting her to form a now-international support group and online forum for other grieving families, the Hawaii-based Alliance of Hope For Suicide Loss Survivors.

“It was really devastating for everybody who knew and loved him,” she said, speaking on the 26th anniversary of her stepson’s death. “It was as if a grenade went off in our family and everyone was wounded, each in their own way.”

Looking at the police posts, Walker said, could easily be traumatizing for people who have lost loved ones to suicide.

“I don’t want to dismiss the heroism of the police or that they have kindness in their hearts,” she said. “I just don’t see some of those videos as portraying that or conveying that. It’s more sensational.”

The police department of Appleton, Wisconsin — a city of 74,000 north of Milwaukee — took a different approach. They had discussions for nearly a month before going public in February with an eight-minute suicide intervention video that is much less explicit than others. They also sought permission from the man who had been in crisis and his family and worked with mental health organizations.

“Is this going to be positive for our community? Is this actually going to cause the conversations that we want to happen around mental health?” Lt. Meghan Cash said. “Or is this just a video?”

In recent years, officials who oversee so-called suicide hot spots like San Francisco’s Golden Gate Bridge and the George Washington Bridge, which connects New York City and New Jersey, have worked to install prevention or deterrent systems.

About 30 people die by suicide annually on the Golden Gate Bridge, and another 150-plus people try to take their lives there each year. Many come in contact with the 36 members of the bridge patrol — whose captain, David Rivera, hopes new conversations around mental health, like Simone Biles’ discussions at the Olympics, will encourage people to get help.

Rivera’s department does not post publicly about suicide interventions, and instead chooses to privately honor its members and others who may have been involved in rescues, like bridge ironworkers, roadway staffers or officers from other police agencies.

“We can recognize them and write up a commendation,” Rivera said.

Berthia, the mental health advocate, went to the bridge in 2005 with the intent to end his life. His encounter over the railing with a California Highway Patrol officer was captured in a photograph published on The San Francisco Chronicle’s front page. The picture haunted him for years.

“It brought me back to the day,” Berthia said. “It brought me back to the moment. It brought me back to the wind, and the smell.”

Now, Berthia speaks nationally about suicide prevention, and says there’s a long way to go on mental health awareness. Still, his message to people in crisis is a hopeful one.

“I need you here,” he says, “I need you here. So please call or reach out, do whatever you’ve got to do.”

___

Associated Press video journalists Angie Wang in Atlanta and Haven Daley in San Francisco contributed to this report.

source https://wealthch.com/mental-health-online-police-posts-of-crises-may-traumatize-wplg-local-10/