#that yelling might turn into screaming later on if you trigger some scenes in Book One but def in Book Two

[lacunafiction]

I can’t wait for you to experience Bee’s route! 🐝🧡

Am finally trying the Beckett route of Fernweh and I’m yelling

BEE

[storysofmyown]

Obey me! Scarred, Chapt. 5

Plot: It’s time for the next step in Diavolo’s plan to unify the  realms. But, in order to work, the demons would be subjected to confront  their worst fears, and in some cases, who they are.

Trigger warning:  Manipulation, PTSD i think

Word count: 2273

It was day the sixth day since the archangels and God had arrived at the Devildom. Diavolo’s entire kingdom was feeling tense. Just a wrong move and the plan of their Prince will fall apart and turn into a war. Except that, Belphegor knew his father did not care about any of this. He wondered why the man had agreed to this visit or even entertained the thought of unifying the realms. The man could not care about anything else except his own stuck up ways of doing things. The children he claimed to love? He didn’t even care about those; they were living proof of that. Lilith was proof of that. Belphegor did not know what his father was planning, but he was sure it had something to do with messing with their family. Of course, it did since it seemed that He had not done enough to cause them pain. Belphegor was sure of that. Beel had barely even looked at him since the meeting he had to be left of, and now Satan was acting strange. He was lashing out at everyone and everything, would scream and throw tantrums at anyone, heck Belphegor once passed by his room and found the young demon breaking his own books. One of his most beloved possessions. He had tried to reason with his nephew, but Satan was not having it. Yelling at him to get out and throwing the books at Belphegor. Satan was acting like he used to do when he was only the embodiment of wrath. “Ya think he’s okay?” Asked mammon, leaning against a wall. They were in the music room, one of the few places they could talk with no one bothering them. “Yes Mammon, he is perfectly fine. That is why at dinner yesterday he threw his plate across the room and almost hit Lucifer with it. What makes you think he isn’t okay?” Belphie responded from the sofa, not even bothering to open his eyes to look at his brother. “Oi! No need to be smartass about it. I’m just worried”, the last part was a mere murmur. But audible enough to make Belphie sigh in frustration. “What about Beel? Has he talked to you about what’s been bothering him?” This made Belphegor sit up and glare at his brother. “I’d take that as no.” “Ah, so you can read an expression. Good work Mammon.” Belphie rolled his eyes, before just starring at the ceiling. “I don’t know why he won’t talk to me. He has been avoiding me so much that now only stays in our room when I’m sleeping. Whenever I try to bring it up, he gets all sulky and leaves. He is acting like a child.” Belphegor put his pillow over his face. The whole situation was frustrating. If it wasn’t enough that his father was in town, his family was falling apart. “Maybe he just needs space or something. I dunno man, there’s lotta of shit going on.” “Yeah, you haven’t stolen anything in almost a week. Must be stressful.” “OI! You make me sound like a bad demon.” Mammon ruffled Belphies hair, who laughed before pushed Mammon’s hand away. “I’m going to take a nap in the planetarium. Please don’t make noise.” Mammon was going to protest but he saw how tired his younger brother looked. So, opting not to bother him, Mammon left the music room heading to bother Levi. Belphie entered the planetarium, starring at the crystal ceiling and taking in the silence in the room. He got comfortable and fell asleep. Or maybe not, he couldn’t tell, because the moment he closed his eyes, the room changed, it was entirely darkness everywhere. There were sobs and cries coming from a corner, the darkness turned into a blinding white light, and there he stood. In front of his memories. He saw Beel kneeling on the floor, knuckles white and tears in his face. He saw himself, standing not that far away, crying and calling for Lilith and a hate for the humans burning deep inside of him. “Your brother was always so strong, yet so emotional.” His father was standing beside him, they were both starring at Beel. “He always cared for all of you so much. Yet, why does it feel like the same cannot be said about you?” God looked at Belphegor, who was wondering what the heck was going on. “What are you doing here?” Belphegor walked backwards, trying to put distance between him and his father. Once he glanced back, he noticed how they were no longer in that memory. Instead, the memory he had landed on was that one time he and Lilith had visited the Human World for the first time. “Not much, just wanted to see my son.” God smiled, or at least Belphie thinks that was a smile. “Why are we in here?” Belphie point around, he saw Lilith and himself playing by a lake. Lilith was entirely entailed by the magnificence of her surrounding, running around and asking Belphie about everything. “Oh? I didn’t do that. This is your dream after all, you choose the destination. Maybe you are trying to tell yourself something.” “And pray tell, what would that might be?” Belphegor glared at the man. He glared at his father, who walked around looking at the scenario. “You know what? I don’t want to know. I don’t care about what you have to say or what you think.” Belphegor started walking, with every step another memory came into play, but he was not going to stay long enough to even give them a second glance. He knew his father was walking beside him, but he couldn’t care. He just wanted to wake up. He had his eyes closed, ignoring every memory that passed along, tuning out the words of his memory. Trying to forget where he was. Perhaps that way he could wake up. “Belphegor!” That was Lilith. It was Lilith’s voice. Sweet like always, with an excited undertone to it. He opened his eyes, and right in front of him, there she was. Smiling, with her small hands cupped, holding something. “Lilith?” he spoke, softly. The memory had positioned itself in such a way that it seemed Lilith was actually talking to him, and not just playing a looping scene. “Okay so, I was down at the human world. Yes, I know you don’t want me going alone, but it’s just so much fun. Plus, you always go down there, and most of the time alone. So, I figured it would be okay to just pay one visit.” Lilith smiled at her brother. But she lied, it wasn’t just one visit, but Belphegor didn’t realize that lie until much later. “The point is, I brought you something back.” She extended her hands, waiting for him to take what she was giving him. “What is this?” He asked. He was playing a long with the memory. It had been so long since he had seen or heard his sister. The way her smile brightened his day, her eyes always with such hope and love in them. He extended his hand, waiting for her to place the object. “I found it down there. I thought you might want it.” Lilith placed the object. Belphegor held it in his hand. Tears accumulating in his eyes. After a couple of seconds, Belphegor opened his hand, starring at the bracelet she had found. He looked again at Lilith. “I found it while in the Human world and thought you would like it. Besides,” Lilith pulled her hand up, showing a matching bracelet on her wrist. That one was embed with gold and white, while his had black and purple. Belphegor touched the bracelet with his other hand. It felt real, the weight of it and the way it had fallen a little twisted in his hand was���just too read. For a moment he wondered, if he was able to touch that, could he touch the memory of Lilith too? He looked up, at the frozen frame of a smiling Lilith. He stepped closer, slowly, making sure to leave some space between them. Lilith’s memory locked eyes with him, before averting her gaze. “Do you like it?” She asked, sheepishly. Belphegor smiled, this time, tears falling down his cheek. There was such a bittersweet sentiment with being able to see his sister again but in the form of a memory. The sentiment was slowly killing him. “I love it.” His voice was shaky, as well as his hands. He smiled widely, at his sister, eyes filled with tears and his heart pounding hard. Lilith cheered, before jumping and giving Belphegor a hug, or at least that is what was supposed to happen. The moment Lilith was supposed to make contact with him, the memory banished, leaving Belphegor broken and this time crying out of pure sadness. God had been standing right beside him this whole time, watching the scene unfold. “Lilith? No, no, no, no, no, no, no! Lilith!” He ran, trying to find the memory again, but no matter where he ran, this time the room wouldn’t change. They were swallowed in a pitch-black room where no one could reach them. Belphegor turned around to see his father, ever the powerful being he was, smiling. “Why are you doing this?” His voice had given out on him in the last few words. “I am not doing anything, son.” The room blurted into red light, a sensation of heat involving his very being. Belphegor looked around frenetically. No, this couldn’t be. His eyes found Beel, who had the most terrified look he had ever seen on his brothers face. His eyes darted between Belphegor and a person behind him. The sound of angels screaming and explosions of fire in front of them was numbing. Goose bumps played with him, as he slowly turned around to see Lilith, scared staring right into Beelzebub. “No.” Was all Belphie could muster, before the knot in his throat prevented him from talking again. He felt frenetic, thinking of ways to save his sister. He needed to save her; he couldn’t lose her. For a moment he noticed how neither of them were wearing the bracelets. They had fallen off during the battle. The only thing Belphie could have to remember her had been lost. And as the final hit was blown at them, he looked over at Beel, to beg him to save Lilith, but as their eyes meet, Beel sprinted towards him, just like before, the moment Beels memory was supposed to come into contact with Belphie, the entire memory disappeared. He fell on his knees. Sobs of pain and sadness filled the silence of the room. He had been so weak, so, so weak. “It’s truly a shame. I loved you three the most. But you had to show Lilith the human world, and I was forced to…kill her; my own daughter, what a pity. And even after that, you couldn’t even save Beel from blaming himself for her death. You caused your sisters death and made your brother feel guilty for it. You owed him that much, you owed him support, but you were so absorbed within yourself that you let him believe he had let Lilith died. My, what a brother.” His father got to Belphies level, lifting his head with a hand, making Belphegor face him. The eyes of them man starred directly at Belphegor’s, and for a moment he wanted to punch his father’s face, but his heart ached way too much for him to do anything. God put his other hand in his pocket, before taking it out and showing Belphie something. It was the bracelets. “I found them after the war, pretty little things, aren’t they? Here, I thought you might want them.” Belphegor snapped them out of God’s hand, still crying. He held them close to his chest, his breathing fast and his mind racing like never. “You should wake up now. Wouldn’t want yourself to get stuck here, relieving those memories over and over again.” His father rose up to his feet, not before smiling satisfactorily at Belphegor, who stayed like that for a couple more seconds sobbing. Once his eyes snapped open, he was back at the planetarium, at the House of Lamentation. His chest felt numb, his throat was sore, and his eyes ached by how much he had been crying. Belphegor moved his hand to clean the tears, but as he did, he noticed the two bracelets that now sat on his wrist. And all plans from trying to act normal fell apart in just a glimpse of an object, at just a split of a second. Once he collected himself and went to his and Beel’s room, he sat on his bed, at the other side sat Beel, who noticed a familiar set of bracelets on Belphies wrist, and immediately went out of the room, feeling worse than before. Belphie watched his brother leave. He wanted to chase after him but the idea that Beel might hate him for him not being a good brother stopped him. So, he laid down on bed trying to fall asleep. Except that he couldn’t, he feared falling asleep and being confronted by that memory again, or even seeing his father again. The thoughts would not let him fall asleep, so he just stayed like that for hours, feeling completely numb inside and starring at the bracelets. One of them still had blood. The other one was a little bit broken. And he thought how befitting of them.

Okay so here we go, baby! Chapter five, honestly I’m surprised I even got this far, i normally just post one shots cuz they are easier for me, but I’m actually really enjoying writing this multi parted fic. Though, i do feel like this is possibly one of the weakest chapters, but i am still not that familiar with writing Belphegor. Oh, also, God has a...wide set of powers and I’m experimenting what could an “All powerful being could do. But yeah, thank you all so much for reading this, next chapter will be out for Monday. can y’all guess which brother I’m gonna mess with next?

Chapter one

Chapter two

Chapter three

Chapter four

Chapter six

Chapter seven

Chapter eight

Chapter nine

Chapter ten

Chapter eleven

Chapter twelve

Chapter thirteen

[itsuki-minamy]

“SWORD WITHOUT A SWORD”

Translation: Naru-kun Raws: Ridia

It was due to the little conversation with his subordinates that Shiotsu thought that it would not be suitable for him on his birthday.

It is the birthday of Minato's twin children, Hayato and Akito.

++++++++++

Minato's children, who will be in high school this spring, said, "I want a sword for my birthday."

"Sword?"

"Yes, "because we are already adults", we want a real sword like the one you are holding."

"Is it a skill control saber?"

Shiotsu's hand touched the handle of his waist.

"This is the equipment loaned to the members of "Scepter 4" under the authority of "Blue King". Just because you have the aptitude, you can't do it alone. Even more, for children…”

Minato nodded with a soft smile.

“Instead of being a hero, he just wanted to imitate an adult. It is not an appropriate treatment.”

"Oh, I see."

Shiotsu's shoulders lost their strength

"Then, as I recall, I can give him a small sword. Boys love those things.”

Minato shook his head slowly.

"Akito said the same thing, but I stopped him. I think those things are still early for our children.”

Minato's wife, Aki Minato, who is also the mother of the twins, is a woman who is part of the "Scepter 4" task force despite being a woman, and is what people in the field say she is "the great woman of Kintama". She often disagrees with her cautious husband.

"I see. If that happens, then it is a home schooling policy.”

Shiotsu bowed.

"Sorry. I told you."

"No... "Holding a knife gives you the responsibility and awareness of an adult". I think there is a reason for such an opinion. Akio also said, "Let's go buy a big one." However, I..."

With a gentle but determined will, Minato said...

"I want them to be ready to harm others a little later."

"I see."

Shiotsu nodded his head. As a single person, he has no idea when a boy is a young minor, an adult, or a child. He is not eligible to make a decision on this matter.

In addition, he regularly trusts the moderate and common sense of the man in front of him.

"So... I'm going to give him something else, not a sword."

"A matching fountain pen."

Minato stopped working on the paperwork and turned the pen around.

"The pen is stronger than the sword." I want you to do that.”

A few days after talking about it, he realized that Habari's birthday was near.

Daily, among "Scepter 4" members, including Shiotsu, there is little awareness of "birthday". Birthdays, birthday parties, birthday celebrations... He remembered after a long time in a conversation with Minato that there were such things in the world.

We look forward to our annual birthday and celebrate with our family members. Such acts belong to a peaceful daily life far from themselves. He behaves differently with sabers and always swaps lives. And a few times a month, he retires after one of his lives suffers. There will be no "happy birthday" on those days. Everyone thinks so out of the box.

But in reality, such "daily life" may be the most important.

The reason "Scepter 4" exists is to protect the everyday life of the general public. If you fight without knowing what to protect, the beast is no better. "Scepter 4", who controls Strains' crimes with his skill, is a law dog, and even a bloodhound is not a wild dog.

Everyday life as a general citizen, life as a person. We should not separate ourselves from such things.

In particular, he wants Habari, the Blue King, to be aware of this. Therefore, it is a "birthday" and a "gift". He wishes his actions could have some influence on what "Scepter 4" is like.

So what to give? It is not wrong to imitate Minato and give him a fountain pen, but he wonders if that is more suitable for Habari.

After hesitating for a few days, she decided on a paper knife.

"Sword" and "Judgment". Knife-shaped stationery. Although Shiotsu wants Habari to keep his society in harmony by exchanging letters and documents with other "kings" without depending on it as a base, he thought it was a tool that symbolized the ideal form of a "king".

Of course, the blade must have beauty and dignity as a sword, even if it is not sharp. In addition, I engrave the "Scepter 4" badge on the handle.

Also, as a result of ordering the materials and so on, the craftsman finished the job to the limit and received it directly on the birthday in the store. It was a bad setup that Shiotsu didn't have.

To make matters worse, there were several emergency dispatches on the crucial day, and not just Shiotsu himself but every member within range who might be called. The only one who was vacant was Zenjo Gouki, who was in the middle of the shift adjustment.

Kikuyodo is a cutlery store in Minokasabashi. They mainly sell kitchen knives and scissors, but he also handles art swords and half orders to artisans.

From Tsubakimon, it takes about 40 minutes by subway and on foot. He goes home, half a day of work.

"Well, don't take a detour. When you receive it, save it, and come directly here.”

Zenjo laughed at Shiotsu, who meticulously said that.

"Haha. It is like a child's messenger.”

"Younger than you."

Shiozu replied half angry.

"If I had another messenger, I wouldn't ask you."

"It is a configuration flaw."

"Yes…"

Zenjo laughed even more at Shiotsu, who was silent when he pointed at him.

"Don't worry like that. It is easy."

"Zenjo."

Shiotsu called out to him when he was walking away.

"This is for personal use. Change your clothes."

"I get it."

"I don't know, but don't take out a saber."

"Is it that bad?"

Zenjo looked back. Hit the saber handle with his hand,

"I will carry it in secret."

"Is there a good reason? Leave it here."

At this point, Shiotsu had made some mistakes. It was not the ultimate mistake, but it was causing an unexpected situation by creating a gap between internal and external routine actions.

An hour later, Zenjo met three members of the enemy clan, the "Purgatory", on the Minogasabashi shopping street.

++++++++++

Minogasabashi is far from the territory of "Purgatory" and is not considered a vigilante area. It was a coincidence that the members of "Purgatory" were there, and that one of them met with Zenjo.

Zenjo was attacked the moment he left the "Kikuyodo" store. One of the three was a strong enemy.

The man is now lying on his back after a fight where the shelves fell and the knives scattered.

A paper knife is stuck between the eyebrows to the base of the handle. Instant death.

"What did you do, Zenjo?"

Shiotsu screams when he arrives on the scene.

"I was attacked, so I decided to defend myself."

Zenjo replied. There are some burn marks on his body, but it is a minor injury.

"We both fought bare-handed, but this one was strong."

Zenjo pointed to the fallen man.

"If I didn't kill him, I was exhausted by this man's flame."

"Ah..."

"Calm down, Shiotsu."

A long-haired man emerged from behind Shiotsu, who was cluttering up his words. The "Blue King", Habari Jin.

Habari kneels beside the body and examines his head.

Sakeku Ryusei. You are an executive in "Purgatory". What do you have on your forehead?”

Zenjo answered Habari's question.

“It is an article commissioned by Shiotsu. It was an emergency, so I used it arbitrarily.”

He uses the fingers of both hands to indicate the length of the blade,

"This is a thin knife. There is no blade.”

"Paper knife? The handle has a small "Scepter 4" emblem engraved on it.”

"That's..."

The moment Shiotsu bets on explaining the situation,

"Oh, today is my birthday."

Habari said.

"But why a paper knife? The twins' birthdays are drawing near. They are high school students and want to stretch, but Minato does not accept it. When I heard it I said, why don't you give him a knife without a blade? It appears to be Shiotsu.”

Habari looked at Shiotsu and smiled coldly.

"The pen is stronger than the sword." I didn't think it was wrong.”

"Everything is my fault."

Shiotsu said.

"It is a boring idea that jeopardizes good articles and creates the cause of a collision with "Purgatory". If they demand a price, give me.”

"No, it's funny, Shiotsu."

Zenjo said.

"I killed this boy. If you gave it to him, it would be my neck.”

"By the way, you're out of proportion to the sake phrase."

"Then instead of changing, cut out a few more people and combine the ends of the book."

"Hahaha."

"That's enough!"

Shiotsu yelled at Habari and Zenjo, who were laughing at each other with unscrupulous jokes.

"I was told that this situation could trigger a large-scale conflict between clans... No, it could trigger the escape of "Red King" Genji Kagutsu.”

"Do you believe that?"

Habari said to control the sword curtain to Shiotsu.

"Purgatory" is the city of the relic, but for the city of the relic, what meaning does this man have?"

"He's an executive! Is it possible for an antisocial group to avoid retaliation if they killed one of its members?”

"No, Kagutsu Genji is not a man who works with both types. Nor is he a man who faces the demands of his subordinates. He is a lonely and uninhabited "King". To be honest, I can't read their behavior."

"That's interesting."

Habari hit Shiotsu's shoulder and asked him to take over.

"Don't worry so much, Shiotsu. Your gift was a last-minute rescue from Zenjo's life, and it also came with the neck of the enemy executive and interesting confirmation.”

Habari put a cross in place and applied a fist to the guy.

"It's a great birthday celebration."

Rather than answer the light talk, Shiotsu instructed his subordinates and began to compile the scene. Things are already beyond individual responsibility.

With a fearless smile and looking at the gap, Habari's brain begins to spin at full speed in an attempt to understand and respond to the situation.

The bomb called Kagutsu Genji may or may not explode right now, with tens of thousands of lives.

If the balance of fate begins to tip toward the worst, the one who can stop it is the power of the "Blue King."

It is impossible that the sword that holds the hand has no blade.

"I will return to base. If there is no profit.”

Shiotsu told Zenjo, that he was trying to start running.

"Use transport vehicles. Hurry up."

[lunadragongem]

This is part 1. Part 2 is the aftermath.

So I've had this idea based on another fanfic (It's School watches Assassination Classroom by TheSteinsGateFormula Please check it out, its amazing)

We know the song 'Sans Needs Help' from YouTube. So why not let it be Karma from Assassination Classroom?

Also, I changed the lyrics a little to suit better for the storyline.

Enjoy!!

Ritsu cleared her throat and gained everyone's attention. "Alright, let's take a break for now! This next video is a mini-episode, more of a music video, ahaha," Ritsu rubbed her arm as she said awkwardly.

"Is something wrong with the video?" Some C-class student said. "N-no...It's more of a sensitive topic...and personal. Karma, could I speak to you in private?"

E-class looked at the redhead who shrugged and went with Ritsu.

<With the students and teachers>

There were whispers and theories all around.

"What do you think they're talking about?" Kayano asked Nagisa. "I don't know. Karma and I have been friends since our first year but, I still don't know much about him. He has this way of easily avoiding things without the other person realizing it," (I hope he's ok...)

<With Karma and Ritsu>

"So...Is it ok if I show them?" Ritsu asked timidly. Karma's eyes went bleary. "Sure, You said my future self told you to show it. That things get better once the others find out. I'm holding you onto that, they're gonna find out eventually, so might as well tell them,"

Ritsu nodded as Karma went back to his seat. Ritsu sighed as she walked back. (You say that but it's clear you aren't ready)

"If any of you have any triggers or need to be away, please leave when you start feeling anxious," Ritsu said. She looked pointedly at Karma, who kept his eyes on the screen. He shook off the stares he felt and kept a smile on his face.

Ritsu pressed play.

The music starts and, the screen showed 'Karma Needs Help.' which obviously raised questions, but they kept watching. Then the cliff scene appeared before moving to Karma on his bed as the lyrics start. The bedroom was mostly clean, except for the bedsheets which half-covered Karma.

I wake up in the mornings

Sinking halfway to the bottom

There's a loud distorted screaming in my soul

There was a close up to Karma's face. He looked panicky but smiled, his smile was strange. Nagisa looked at Karma worriedly, as did most of E class. Karma stared blankly at the screen. He still had that fixed, robotic smile.

Everything is dark and empty

And I don't know how to fix it

So I curl up in a ball

And cry in the comfort of my home

S. Karma (Screen Karma) rolled on his side and curled up in a fetal position. His eyes opened and were glistening from unfallen tears. They fell once his eyes closed.

"Karma, dude, are you ok?" Sugino was worried. Karma turned to him and nodded. He still had that strange look on his face.

Koro-sensei was tense. (Please tell me he's ok. I won't let my students suffer)

Kensaku was also tense, but I don't care about this asshole, so he will be mentioned later on.

I don't know why

I feel like shit

I say I'm fine, but I'm not fine

S. Karma was seen getting up from the bed and, answering Nagisa's texts.

Nagisa: Hey, Karma! Are you ok? The class is gonna start in 30 minutes, and you know Koro-sensei doesn't like tardies.

Karma: I'm fine. Just woke up. Will be there soon.

Nagisa: Ok :)

Nagisa's shoulders hunched as he kept his gaze on the screen.

I'm dying inside

And all I see are demons

I try to hide

All my deepest feelings

S. Karma was walking up the mountain with S. Nagisa. S. Nagisa said something while S. Karma laughed.

Nagisa felt a small grin graced his face at the memory. But, he also frowned soon after at the implication that Karma hides how he feels.

Asano was upset. If anyone asked if he was worried, he would deny it. But he is. (I can't have a proper rivalry if my rival is in pain)

Author: I'm a multishipper for Karmagisa and Karushuu, y'all can see it as romantic or platonic for either.

I'm dying inside

And all I see are demons

I try to hide all my deepest feelings

In a small gap, S. Karma said, "Let's try assassinating Koro-sensei today!" with a smile as the classroom was shown and the next lyrics began.

Hazama frowned, and her brows furrowed. The Terasquad looked at her with worry before averting their attention back to the screen.

I think there's something wrong with me

'Cause all I see is death

During the death line, the students in the classroom were shown hanging from nooses for a split second. Then it changed to S. Nagisa looking worriedly at S. Karma, who flinched but quickly hid it.

"Hold on, PAUSE!" Shindo yelled.

Ritsu sighed in mild annoyance, "I know, you don't have to shout at me," Shindo quickly apologized before he turned to Karma. "What was that?!" He was met with silence.

"A-are you ok-k...?" Okuda asked. She was also met with silence. After a pause, Karma responded, "I'm fine," He sounded disconnected from his body. Asano spoke up, "It's clear you aren't,"

"Aww, is Asano-chan worried about me?" Karma said cheekily.

Asano growled. The A-class sensei thought he needed to stop a fight, but what Asano said caught him off guard.

"As a matter of fact, I AM WORRIED! You hide your emotions even more than I do! You use gallows humor as a shield, but to what extent? The video said 'Karma Needs Help' and it's obvious you need to talk to someone about all this!" That surprised Karma. It surprised everyone that Asano yelled.

Ren tried to clam him down, and he did calm down.

"I agree with Asano, this isn't healthy," Nagisa threw his 2 cents in.

"...oh," was all Karma could say. "Not...yet, but I'll think about it," Asano nodded at Karma's awkward agreement. Koro-sensei felt somewhat relieved that Karma is willing to seek help, along with Tadaomi and Irina.

Every time I go outside

I look like I've been doing Japanese

We see a close up of S. Karma's face, mainly his eyes. There were slight eyebags under them as the screen switched to him sleeping in class.

"Japanese?" Seo asked. "It's my worst subject," Karma said quietly. But with the silence among the crowd, it was heard clearly.

And I sleep for nineteen hours on a Thursday morning class.

S. Koro-sensei was shown waking up and slightly scolding S. Karma, who waved a hand at him while using the other to scratch his neck before looking at his book to write down notes. He still had that smile.

Koro-sensei felt guilt claw at him. (Poor kid was probably tired, but I must've thought he was lazy. I'll have to keep a closer eye from now on)

The scene changed to S. Karma locked in a bathroom stall. His hands had blood on then as his nose bled.

And every now and then I get nosebleeds

And I don't know what to do

We see S. Karma half-hazardly wipe his nose with a tissue.

"What the fucking hell!?" Teraseka exclaimed.

Karma shrugged. "It happens sometimes, not a big deal,"

Machida said, "Most people get nosebleeds out of stress...it happened to me too, before exams,"

Some girl (I think her name was Tsukiya or something) stood up and went to the restroom with her friend.

Karasuma was shaken but kept his composure. (How is this kid on top of the class in both PE and studies? He's barely holding on to dear life!)

Irina laid a hand on his shoulder. Karasuma turned to look at her as she mouthed something to him. 'We gotta do something to help.'

Karasuma couldn't agree more.

The scene once again changed to S. Karma leaning against a tree. It was a tree by the cliff, but not the tree that is sideways on the cliff. He's a good 10 meters away from it.

I don't know why

I feel like shit

I will not see a therapist

"Please see a therapist!" Class-E yelled at Karma, his eyes are even more bleary.

Kensaku grimaced. (What's with that kid? He's a sadistic freak, isn't he? A goddamn psychopath! So he's a little suicidal, but it can't be that bad, right?!)

S. Karma suddenly looked happier.

Author: Fake, obviously.

Ladies and gentlemen,

If you wanna fucking kill yourself

Put your fucking hands up (yeah!),

Razor blades in the air, everybody! (yeah!)

(WTF!?) went through everyone's head as Karma chuckled at the screen. Nagisa is terrified as he realized why Karma was so calm when he fell off the cliff. Koro-sensei didn't have it in him to say anything about the swear words.

A few students like Hazama, Machida, and others slowly rose their hands up. This made Etsuki-sensei whimper a little. Karasuma lost a little composure and let his eyes widen.

(*Coughing*)

Ay, oh, ay, oh, ay, ay, ay, ay, ay, help, help, help, help, help, help, HELP!

There were memories that E-class made where S. Karma was happy on the outside but hurting on the inside. And as it went to the help part, it showed S. Karma getting swallowed by the darkness.

(Poor kid, I'm definitely softening up.) Irina thought as she felt a wave of empathy. She was mildly suicidal before she met Lovro. (I'm...terrible with kids, but...I think the little twerp would like some of my coping mechanisms. I stopped many years ago, but the sure helped me out when I was around his age.)

I'm dying inside

And all I see are demons

I try to hide all my deepest feelings

We see S. Karma get up from the tree and make his way home. The disconnected smile disappears, and he frowns.

I'm dying inside

And all I see are demons

I try to hide all my deepest feelings

S. Karma sat against the bottom of his bed, on the floor. He finally broke down and sobbed into his knees before the screen turned black.

And that's that. Next comes part 2.

[anxiouslyfred]

Never a Model

I wish I could act like Remus so I can avoid situations like I’ve been in this afternoon.

Instead here’s a human au about why Roman thinks Remus acts the way he does.

Triggers: Logan is sort of unsympathetic so I’ll tag it just in case. discussion of the wizard of oz suicide story

/\/\/\/\

“I think it’s his defence to avoid the suggestions we get.” Roman sighed, having listened to Patton yelling over something Remus had done that day.

The words stopped everything the others were doing to focus on him. Janus turned the oven down so he didn’t have to focus on cooking, Patton folded himself onto the sofa and Logan blinked, closing the book he’d been reading instantly.

“What comments are you talking about kiddo?” Patton ventured, glancing to the others to see if they understood what he meant.

Roman just rolled his eyes. “The model comments. God, when we were younger Everyone insisted we should be models and even now I get them occasionally. Being an actor I can counter them pretty easily, especially with how much people think of acting as being based on looks as much as skills, but Remus never wanted to do anything like that.”

“So you think he acts as disgusting and twisted as he does to avoid it being suggested?” Janus raised an eyebrow, think of their friend’s latest adventure.

Logan was shaking his head too. “If that was the case then he’d at least stop acting like it occasionally. Remus is nothing if not consistent over how he acts.”

“Is he? So you’ve never had him tiredly say something and only add on an innuendo or gross comment two minutes later while you tried to find the double meaning in a perfectly plain phrase?” Roman challenged, smirking now. “Virigl definitely has seen the times he’s just calming down in the evening and the first time that happened called me to see if we’d swapped places. You’re his other roommate so I bet you’ve seen it occasionally at least.”

Momentary affront crossed Logan’s face, “Logic would suggest that when he’s tired his usual reactions are either delayed or not worth voicing. Perhaps because the reactions he’d recieve are too extreme given that tired people have been shown to have more creativity accoridng to some studies. That prooves nothing regarding his unconventionally disturbing actions being a mere act.”

“Roman’s his brother, surely he knows Remus better than you.” Patton commented, tilting his head to one side in thought. “Besides if anything being an artist makes Remus more likely than Roman to get comments about being a model, if not in advertising then for other people to paint. They aren’t going to suggest that if he’s got them too creeped out to want to spend time with him.”

Roman just chuckled now, holding up his hands. “True, I am the delightful sods brother, but if you don’t believe me perhaps asking him would work? He is coming over for dinner tonight after he and Virgil finish their shift.”

Logan huffed again, returning to his book muttering that nobody would keep up an act as consistently as Remus would have to be doing and Patton just nodded, wandering up to his room to put his bag away.

Janus however remained watching Roman for a moment. “Does that also mean he doesn’t trust people easily?” He asked.

“There are a lot of different levels of trust he can have in people. Just like you tend not to fully trust people for a while after meeting them and lie or mislead a lot until then, Remus has his own ways of deciding someone is trustworthy.” Roman sighed, leaning further back into the chair. “I’m going to have a nap until our final two arrive.”

Silence was his reply until he heard the over being reheated and movement from the kitchen once more.

/\/\/\/\/\

“There’s a murder on the scenery!” Remus yelled, barging through the door as though he owned the flat. Wherever the friends were gathering Remus would act like it was his home regardless and while the others would have been concerned over the yell they relaxed at Virgil’s snickering entrance behind him.

“Have you been looking up stories about my musical, Remus?” Roman blinked awake, mentally trying to connect how a murder could be added into the backgrounds of his next production.

“Virgie mentioned it so of course I was adding it! Can I recreate the scene on one of the nights? I’ve got a dummy I could make look reallly reallllllly realistic to use!” Remus bounced into the room, throwing himself on top of Roman’s legs before they could be moved.

Patton came downstairs curiously now, “I don’t think there are any murders in Wizard of Oz except for the wicked witches.”

Roman shoved his brother to the floor sitting up once the weight was gone. “Technically no, but there is a suicide connected to it. Remus if you try that do it behind the wings so at the very most only the very front seats furthest to one side of the theatre stand a chance of spotting it. I’m not having you disrupt a performance for a story.”

“Better warn the actors it could happen though. I don’t think there’s a point in the script where Dorothy walks off stage only to run back on screaming in terror.” Virgil pointed out, still snickering. “I’ve got pics of what we’ve done since I know you’re going to want to check, Prince Pouty.”

“How is any of this an act, Roman!?” Logan’s book snapped shut, followed by an arm being flung towards Remus.

Virgil and Remus both paused at that, the outburst seemingly unconnected to anything that had been happening. That only lasted a second before Remus was wrapping himself around Logan.

“Aww, Logie Wolf has been talking about me? Should I be blushing?” His voice was babying, even as he curiously glanced towards Roman.

“One, I didn’t say it was entirely an act. I said I think it’s a defence mechanism to avoid getting told he should be a model as often as used to happen. Two, Remus has always liked dark conspiracies just like Virgil and Janus have done, why would that be part of the act?” Roman wasn’t sure why the idea had upset Logan so much but the fact he hadn’t actually asked Remus before assuming Roman was wrong was more than a little insulting. “And three, Remus is literally wrapped around you right now, why don’t you ask him if anything I’d suggested or said might be true?”

“Four, if it was why would I tell Youuuuuu?” Remus sang his addition, licking Logan’s cheek before letting go and heading into the kitchen. “Those lords are fighting, how are the fires igniting?” They could hear him trill to Janus.

Virgil snickered a little at that, before looking more closely at Roman. “For someone who tries to say he doesn’t like his brother at all you’re pretty astute when understanding him.”

[luuuna-rambles]

Lost Rewatch: 1x02 Pilot, Part 2

We get to see some characters at the start of their arcs, and... boy, is it painful

I know this was shown as one long episode, but the lack of a 'Previously on Lost’ still feels like a betrayal

Yes Kate, I’m sure you’re really glad that Charlie came with you. Especially given the way you forgot his name several times and then forgot he existed

Charlie is The Master, it’s confirmed here

We see Charlie dive into one of the seats maybe three rows behind the front of the plane, but in the present there are way more than three rows in the front of the plane wreckage

Claire and Shannon have a short bonding moment that, of course, doesn’t go anywhere, because Shannon isn’t allowed to have any meaningful platonic relationships

How did Walt manage to get this far away from Micheal without him noticing

I know that Jin has to be a twat so he can grow later, but ugggghhhh. It was just one button, mate!

Michael, you don’t know that it’s a criminal’s handcuffs. Someone could be into some kinky shit

Hey look! Broody Man’s back again! And he’s actually doing something this time! He’s.... starting a fight. *sigh*

Sayid says he’s ‘sick of this redneck’ but, like, Broody Man hasn’t actually done anything yet. Just smokes, brooded, and made a joke about monkeys

Oh, would you look at that, Broody Man is also Racist Man. Wonderful

Oh look at that, Kate pulled a Ginny

Aw, Broody Man’s first nickname. This is one for this history books, guys. I mean, it’s a fat joke, but still

Oh, and our first ‘Doc’, too! This is a pretty momentous conversation

Jack x Sawyer? Haters to Lovers? Lowkey ship it

Romance or bromance? You take your pick

Sayid and Hurley’s first interaction is adorable

Oh look at that, Kate’s being sexualised. I wonder if this show was written and produced by men. Oh it was? What a surprise

Sun looks on with envy. She wants to be sexualised too

Sorry Sun, you don’t get to wear a bikini until it’s symbolic

After Sayid fixes the transceiver, why does he try to find Kate, of all people? And why send a person he thinks can’t speak English to find her?

I can’t remember what the marshal is called, so for the duration of this rewatch I shall call him Chad

FFS JIN, SUN WAS TRYING TO HELP YOU

#NotMyJin

If Jin said they weren’t going to worry about the rest of the passengers last episode, why does he spend this episode distributing food?

Hurley’s refusal to try any of Jin’s food is... really rude, actually. ‘I’m starving, but nowhere near that hungry’??? I know he can’t understand English, but still, what the hell, man?

#NotMyHurley, either

I have a feeling I’m going to like Shannon a lot more this time round. Her confession about her being mean to a man who died is... really heartbreaking, actually

AND THEN BOONE HAD TO RUIN IT. Dude, your sister it going through trauma, and your response is ‘You’re just useless’? Wtf, man?

Do all the characters just suck this episode?

We see Broody Man reading his letter, and then cut to him suddenly deciding to help? Why? What was it in that letter that made him decide to join Sayid Hood and his band of Merry Men?

Also, why does Shannon need to ask for permission to come of The Hike when everyone else can just invite themselves?

Ay, first time hearing the Adventure Theme!

Haha, Micheal can’t remember his son’s age. Except wait: we see later that he remembers his birthday perfectly, he’s very good at maths, and he’s had Walt with him for at least a couple of days. So what’s with the slip up?

In case you don’t get the symbolism of the backgammon game, Locke basically screams it in Walt’s face. Does he know he’s in a TV show?

Why does everyone keep refusing Jin’s food?

Claire is a bean and I love her

Kate yells Sawyer’s name when the bear shows up, but how come she knows his name when we don’t? It sounds like we’re supposed to know, but to us he’s still just Broody Man

The shot of Sawyer shooting the Polar Bear is pretty cool, actually

“That’s a Polar Bear”. And thus starts the most aggravating ‘Unanswered Question’ this show has ever produced

THE DHARMA INITIATIVE BROUGHT THEM HERE

IT’S NOT THAT HARD

And back to Jack and Chad! Now with special guest, Hurley

Why did Jack ask Hurley for help here? There are several main characters who would be better at this who aren’t with Sayid Hood

Yes Sawyer is annoying, but he’s also pretty funny

I jUsT sHoT a BeAr!

Kate pretending not to know how to use a gun is probably the smartest thing she’s done since the crash

Speaking of, why did she drop those handcuffs so close to the crash sight? If they had been a little further away, no one would have found them

Or hell, just bury them!

I see the show was trying to promote the Love Triangle From Hell™ early on

Oh look, Kate’s the criminal! I was surprised at the time, but looking back I should have seen this coming a mile off - Sayid and Broody Man are too obvious, we’ve seen Jack and Charlie on the plane, and none of the other characters are important enough yet for it to be them

The conversation between Kate and Chad bewilders me. Chad says that they might believe ‘her story’, but what story is that? We never see Kate try and come up with an alibi, and her own mother turns her in, so she’s not going to be innocent, is she?

Chad, come on. 'Where is she?’. Are you expecting Jack to know who the hell you’re talking about?

Is Sayid really the only one who knows what ‘iteration’ means?

You see, Boone? Shannon is useful here! Are you going to stop treating her like trash now?

(Spoiler: he’s not. He just gets worse)

Danielle, what do you mean ‘it killed them all’? YOU SHOT THEM ALL! If you mean the Infection, you are still the one who pulled the trigger!

The message has been playing for 16 years (Yes, I know that one’s obvious, but I’m still pointing it out)

‘Guys, where are we?’ - I see Charlie is a Drama Queen as well as a musician

Overall Review:

As I said above, this is the start of several people’s arcs, which means that a lot of characters are especially punchable this episode. Jin, Sawyer, Boone... the list goes on. The show seemed to decide against introducing characters and their arcs one at a time, and instead introduces them all in 40 minutes, which makes it a pretty big mess. But I still think I enjoy this episode more than the previous one. More funny moments, Some very sweet character moments, Sayid looks like he’s having the time of his life, and I remember the last scene of this episode being the thing that started getting me invested in the show as a whole

Overall Rating: 5.1/10

Still a pretty middling episode, but the show is starting to find it’s footing now. It’s mainly uphill from here on out!

[louisapennyfeather2021]

Newsies Teen Wolf AU, but it's my favorite Issac x Allison scenes, which will be known as Katherine x Sarah scenes!

Just some extra short scenes because why not?

Warnings: Mentions of bombs, slight make out session, slight second-hand embarrassment. Mentions of PTSD, mentions of child abuse

____

Sarah's sitting at the desk in the office she shares with Davey when she hears a faint noise outside. She pauses, contemplating grabbing her bow unt she hears a distinct yelp followed by another. She stifles a laugh and not even minutes later, Katherine walks in the office with pursed lips and slightly frizzy hair.

"Electrified the windows?" Katherine asks, her voice higher than normal.

"Yep." Sarah doesn't look up at Katherine, she just keeps flipping through her book looking for any signs of the bomber that they still can't find.

"Didn't think to say anything?" Katherine asks, a tad bit of sarcasm in her voice.

"Nope." Sarah looks up and grins at Katherine before returning to the book.

"Alrighty then."

____

"You find anything?" Katherine asks, half her body hanging off of Sarah's bed. The two moved to Sarah's bedroom more for comfort than necessity. Sarah's pacing her room now, her book in hand as Katherine slides through page after page on the virtual document.

"There's a thing about flies carrying messages from the dead." Sarah stops pacing and sets the book on her bed, her hands now firmly planted on her hips as she thinks. "What about you, did you find anything?"

"Just something about a Lord of the Flies." Katherine stands up and stands closer to Sarah. Maybe she's been working up the confidence to do this for a while and maybe she's hoping that Sarah had been too based on their interactions, but that hope is quickly shot down when Sarah backs away with slightly wide eyes.

"Are you serious?" Sarah scoffs. Katherine's face heats up, but she tries to ignore it. "You were just trying to kiss me."

"No I wasn't." Katherine knows the attempt is futile, but she'd rather try and lose every last shred of dignity she has.

"Okay, then what were you trying to do? Head-butt me?" Sarah laughs nervously. She keeps trying to tell herself she doesn't want that. Yes, she told Jack forever ago that she thinks she likes both girls and guys, but that has nothing to do with that fact that her and Katherine were hardly friends until recently.

"All right, fine, maybe I was trying to kiss you." Katherine caves, now knowing any dignity she had left is long gone.

"Are you completely, totally out of your mind? You actually think that I would want to kiss you? Or any other werewolf again? Because trust me on this, I would never kiss you. Ever." Sarah laughs nervously again throughout her mini speech, shaking her head and making various hand gestures as her faces flushes red.

"Never." Katherine and Sarah both nod in agreement and they're suddenly stuck in an awkward silence. That is, until Sarah is right in front of Katherine. Sarah places her hands on Katherine's cheeks and suddenly her lips are on Katherine's. Katherine's briefly shocked, but she quickly snaps out of it and holds onto Sarah's shoulders. They eventually break apart for air and Katherine is in a slight daze. "Alright, yeah, I won't kiss you either."

Katherine sits on the edge of Sarah's bed and closes her eyes at Sarah reconnects their lips. She holds Sarah's wrist as Sarah's hand rests on one side of her neck and the other squeezes her hip. Katherine is surprised when Sarah pulled away and hurriedly unbuttons her blouse, leaving her in her bra and shorts. While Katherine is lost in a daze, Sarah carefully at first pulls at Katherine's sweater and when Katherine doesn't oppose, Sarah's pulling the sweater over Katherine's head. She's left in a white camisole and her jeans before Sarah's leaning back in for another kiss. Katherine finds herself with her back on Sarah's mattress, the other girl leaning over her while she still stands at the edge. Sarah's carefully working her fingers under Katherine camisole, her cool fingers meeting the warm skin of Katherine stomach, when suddenly Sarah's door is open. Both girls freeze and look up.

And low and behold, there stands David Jacobs in the doorway with a slightly shocked, slightly regretful look on his face.

"Hey Sarah, can I talk to you in the office for a second? Where we keep the guns." Davey stares right at Katherine when he says it. Sarah quickly stands and hurries out the door. Katherine sits up, her eyes wide as Davey follows Sarah out the door. Katherine waits, knowing there's bound to be a big brother lecture. She is not, however, ready for what she hears next.

"ANOTHER WEREWOLF?!"

____

Katherine's still waiting in Sarah's room, voluntarily tuning out of Davey's rant as she aimlessly wanders the room. She's still in her jeans and camisole, not caring much to put her sweater back on. She's looking at an old picture of Sarah, Davey, and their older brother Morris when goosebumps rise in her arms and there's a tingling sensation on the back of her neck. She whips around to see nothing in the dark room, although she's not dumb. She knows something's wrong. She hurries towards the door, knowing she should warn Sarah and Davey, but the door is somehow slammed shut.

And then she hears the whispers.

She turns in a circle as the whispers get louder and louder, her hands gripping the sure of her head as the whispers seem to blend into an intolerable static.

Until she's stopped.

And she's staring into the glowing, green eyes of a shadow.

She tries to run, but two more appear. They grab her arms and hold her in place. The first shadow walks closer and reaches it's hand up towards her face. Katherine starts breathing harder until the hand covers her left ear.

And she screams.

Sarah and Davey immediately stop their arguing when they hear Katherine scream. They rush out of the office to see Sarah's door shut. They run at it, Sarah grabbing the handle.

It doesn't move.

"Katherine! Katherine, what's going on? Open the door!" Sarah yells, knocking on the door and pushing it while trying to turn the handle.

"Katherine!" Davey yells. No matter how angry he might be for Sarah going behind his back and breaking their entire agreement to stay out of the supernatural, he doesn't hate Katherine. He likes her, she's generally okay to be around. Now that she's screaming bloody murder in his sister's room, Davey is panicking. They both keep yelling and pushing on the door until the screaming stops. Seconds later, the door flies open and Sarah all but falls over.

"Katherine?" She breathes when she sees the girl trembling on the floor, her body curled into itself. She hurries over to Katherine and kneels next to her, but she almost jumps back when her fingers touch Katherine's arm. "She's freezing. Dave, she's like ice."

"Katherine, look at me." Davey grabs Katherine's chin and makes her face him. It's then that Sarah can see Katherine's lips moving rapidly and her eye kids fluttering, although her eyes stay wide in what Sarah only recognizes as fear.

"What's happening to her?" Sarah subconsciously asks. She jumps when a broken sound passes Katherine's lips and she vaguely hears the word please being whispered over and over again.

"Katherine, listen to me, you have to turn. You have to trigger it." Davey's voice is loud and clear. It's obvious that Katherine is in a form of shock and if she doesn't trigger the healing, she could die.

Suddenly, there's a loud slap followed by a low growls and Katherine's bolting upright, moving as far away from Sarah and Davey as she can. Davey stares incredulously at his sister, not expecting her to full on backhand the very same girl he had caught her making out with not even ten minutes ago.

"Did you see them?" Kathrine breathes, her body still trembling, but her face more alert and less frozen.

"Who?" Sarah moves closer to Katherine, reaching up to her bed to grab a loose blanket. She carefully wraps it around Katherine, letting the shivering girl grab the fabric and pull it tight around her.

"There were five of them. They wore black, I couldn't-" Katherine has to stop, squeezing her eyes shut and swallowing hard as she trembles even harder. "I couldn't see their faces, they were covered."

"What do you mean, like masks?" Sarah sends a confused look to Davey only to find him frowning in thought.

"One of them, I could see his eyes. They were greenish-yellow, like a firefly." Katherine squeezes her eyes shut even harder and curls her body into itself. Sarah wonders for a brief second if she's remembering the freezer from the basement of her old home. She obviously doesn't ask, bit she knows that Katherine is still plagued by the memories.

"The security system wasn't triggered." Davey mumbles, shaking his head.

"Then how did they get in?" Sarah asks. She scoots closer to Katherine and hesitantly reaches out to her her upper arm, hoping to help her warm up. Sarah is shocked to feel the icy cold through the thick blanket.

"They didn't, it was like they came out of the shadows." Katherine stifles a whimper and subconsciously moves closer to Sarah, her eyes glued shut.

Everything was so cold. She was trapped and it was cold and there was no way to get out. No matter how much she screamed, she couldn't get out. It was like being stuck there all over again. She thought she escaped it, but she was wrong.

"Do you know what that means?" Sarah asks when she sees a brief flash of recognition on Davey's face. "David, what does it mean?"

"I'm not sure, but I need you two to keep this quiet. For a few hours." Davey quickly stands up, turning to leave the room.

"From everyone?" Katherine asks, sniffling as she slowly stops trembling so hard.

"Just twenty-four hours." Davey walks to eh door, but he's stopped again.

"David, they could've killed her." Sarah raises her voice to let Davey know she's not done yet, especially since it's obvious he knows something.

"But they didn't and there's a reason why." Davey leaves the room, leaving Sarah to grab more blankets and sit closer to Katherine.

"I was there. All over again." Katherine whispers. Sarah doesn't think she's meant to hear, so she just sits with Katherine and holds her, confused and concerned.

____

Heyo! So I love the Allison x Isaac scenes in season 3 and that's partially why I made Sarah, Allison and Katherine, Isaac. Also, who doesn't love some fun Newsbians fluff/angst/make out/ whatever you want to think of it.

Let me know if you want any specific scenes or if you have any suggestions! Please, don't be afraid to ask! I promise you aren't a burden and I'll try my hardest to write what you ask for! I love writing and I'm currently stuck home for a while with a lot of free time!

[pug-bitch]

That’s not why I’m going (33)

Humidity’s rising

Book: The Royal Romance

Pairing: Drake Walker x Amara Suarez

Rating: some foul language, some extremely suggestive, and a VERY steamy scene. This is absolutely NOT appropriate for people under 18. 

Word count: around 4,500 (let me know if the ‘keep reading’ cutoff isn’t working well!)

Notes: This picks up pretty much where we left off, as the gang is ready to go to karaoke, starting with Drake’s POV. This chapter is mostly fluffy stuff, because we need it :D

*****

Drake steps into the Uber, closely following Amara, who’s now sitting between him and Maxwell. He squeezes her hand once they’re all buckled in.

‘Are you sure you’re ok, baby?’

She nods enthusiastically. ‘Yes, please don’t worry. I had an episode, it’s gone now, I want tonight to be fun!’

He nods and kisses her hand. Maxwell rubs Amara’s other arm. ‘You’re right, let’s have a fun time! So happy to be all together! But where are we going exactly?’

Amara chuckles. ‘We’re going to the bar where Drake and I went for karaoke once. It’s a cop bar, it’s quiet, we just have to look out for Bastien or even Ilya, but if they’re both not there we’re in the clear.’

Max cheers. ‘Woo! A bar full of hunky cops, I love it!’

Drake laughs heartily. ‘Max, most of them are not hot. I just wanna manage your expectations!’

‘Who knows! Look, Amara was a cop, and she’s hot as hell! Why wouldn’t these cops be sexy?’

Amara gloats, ‘Oh, well he’s not wrong, Walker. Some cops are very hot indeed. Ever seen Broadchurch? David Tennant can get it.’

Max gasps, ‘YES, he can. Every time he yells ‘Millah!’ I feel a tingle inside of me.’

Drake rubs the bridge of his nose. ‘That’s all great, guys. I really needed to know what makes Maxwell tingle.’

The Uber driver lets out a throaty laugh, and then realizes that he did that out loud. They all pause for a second, and resume laughing together.

*****

‘Finally! What took you bitches so long?’ Liv complains as Drake, Amara and Max get out of their Uber. 

‘Relax, Liv, we’ve been here for two minutes!’ Hana chimes in.

Amara rolls her eyes, ‘Oh, two minutes? Poor Duchess Olivia, your time is sooo precious. Alright, let’s get in, and let’s have fun. Bertrand, I wanna hear your beautiful voice, ok?’

Bertrand blushes but smiles brightly. Amara can’t help but think they may have failed to include him enough in the past, but she’s determined to make it up to him. 

They walk into the bar, and Amara scans the room for any known faces, which she notices Drake is doing too. But they looked everywhere, and there’s no sign of Bastien, Ilya, or any other members of the Royal Guard. Just regular uniformed cops at the end of their workday, relaxing with their buddies or spouses. Amara notices there’s a lot more women in here than there were last time, which is great for them. They will stick out less.

‘This is everything!’ Maxwell yelps. ‘How come I’ve never been here? It’s so cute! Those peanut bowls are so retro, I’m into it.’

Amara and Drake look at each other and laugh. Oh, Maxwell. What a treasure. 

The six of them get a booth and Drake goes to the bar to order the first round. He knows Bruno at the bar, Amara remembers from last time, and Bruno makes strong drinks. 

‘Maybe I should tell Drake to just get me a tea,’ Bertrand says nervously. 

‘Bertrand! If you’re gonna sing, you need liquid courage!’ Hana says.

Bertrand shrugs and smiles. ‘Well, I suppose that’s true. I’m already two drinks in, though, maybe it’s too much.’

‘Live a little, babe,’ Liv says as she takes a flask out of her bra, handing it to a blushing Bertrand. ‘Have a sip. It won’t bite, it was just on my boob, not up my ass.’

Amara and Hana bite their lips in order not to laugh, as Bertrand reluctantly takes a swig from Liv’s boob flask.

‘I’m gonna go help Drake carry the drinks,’ Amara says.

She walks up to the bar, where Drake is chatting with Bruno while he’s making the drinks. ‘Hey ma’am,’ Bruno says. ‘I remember you. You sang Queen beautifully last time you were here with Drake.’

‘Oh hi Bruno! Nice to see you. It’s very nice of you to say, I was a little hammered, so I don’t remember much of that...performance.’

Bruno laughs, and serves Amara an extra shot of bourbon. ‘Bourbon, right? You’ll need it if you want to give another stellar performance. Lower your inhibitions.’

Amara laughs and downs the shot. ‘Thanks, Bruno. I’ll start a tab.’

He waves her off. ‘This one’s on the house. A friend of the Walkers’ is a friend of mine. And Drake already put his card down.’

‘Aw, thanks, Drake!’

They walk back to the table with drinks for everyone, a round a double shots of bourbon.

‘Ohh, guys, I’m tipsy just looking at these,’ Hana laughs.

‘Lee, stop it, or I’ll make you drink from my flask too,’ Liv threatens. Hana throws her hands up in defeat, and grabs a glass.

*****

A couple of rounds later, Maxwell gets up and goes up to the stage, under the cheers of a room full of cops. He does a little breakdance as he arrives on stage, provoking more excitement from the crowd. Amara gasps, nervous that he might fall on his face again. ‘Jeez, this man will break his neck just by being himself one day.’

Drake laughs, his hand around Amara’s shoulders. He’s feeling good. At home, even. He wishes his dad were here to see them all having fun together. He’d say, ‘See, Drake? You complain about the nobles, but you had to give some of them a chance. They’re not so bad.’

He looks at Amara. She’s smiling broadly, visibly happy to be here. Surprising in a way, since her past is still so painful. He was afraid, when they came here tonight, that the abundance of cops would trigger her anxiety again, but it seems like it’s doing just the opposite. Maybe she’s just enjoying the proximity to good memories, both from her past, and from one of their first dates. He enjoys seeing her like this. 

Suddenly, Maxwell clears his throat in the microphone.

‘Hello, you gorgeous bunch of cops!’ The crowd cheers. ‘I’m Max and tonight, I’m gonna sing an amazing, deep song that means a lot to me. Hit it!’

He gestures to Louis, who is manning the karaoke machine. Louis shrugs, and presses a button. Maxwell closes his eyes and clutches the microphone dramatically. As soon as the opening notes start to play, Drake rolls his eyes. No he didn’t.

I threw a wish in the well,

Don’t ask me I’ll never tell,

I look to you as it fell,

And now you’re in my way!

The gang cannot stop laughing at Maxwell’s dramatic rendering of Call Me Maybe. Amara actually has tears in her eyes. Before the chorus, Maxwell shouts, ‘Little Blossom, come join me!’ 

Amara, without missing a beat, plants a kiss on Drake’s cheek, and runs to the stage to join Max. He wraps his arm around her and they both sing in unison.

Hey, I just met you

And this is crazy!

But here’s my number

So call me maybe

Drake can’t wipe the smile from his face. Here she is, his beautiful girlfriend --he’s never said this word to her before, but tonight, when they can be normal and hang out with their friends in public, it feels right-- singing with their best friend and having the time of her life. She points at Drake as she sings the next words:

Before you came into my life 

I missed you so bad

I missed you so bad

I missed you so, so bad

Yeah, it’s a cheesy song, and the lyrics are so bad that they’re good, but he feels those lyrics on a deep level, which he would probably never confess to anyone unless he had a gun to his head. He definitely cannot remember one single good thing in his life before she showed up.

*****

Amara and Max get back to the booth, both out of breath and very smiley. Amara kisses Drake on the lips and asks, ‘Did you like it?’

He chuckles. ‘Yeah. You were amazing.’

Amara turns to Hana, ‘Babe, sing one! Come on, Max and I can even join you if you’d like!’ 

Hana giggles, visibly inebriated enough to say yes. ‘Alright, I suppose I can give it a try…’

She gets up and consults the list of songs that Louis is handing to her. Max turns to Drake and Bertrand, a self-satisfied look on his face. He says, ‘Gentlemen, I had an idea for a male-only number, are you with me, or are you not?’

Drake sighs, looks at Amara who is nodding furiously, and says to Maxwell, ‘Fine, I’m in.’

Bertrand, visibly altered by the contents of the boob flask, nods as well. ‘Sure, Maxxie, let’s do it. As long as I know the song.’

Max bites his lip. ‘Oh, you know the song.’

‘Shh, guys, Hana is on stage!’ Amara says excitedly.

Hana giggles into the microphone. ‘Hi all, I’m Hana. I’m not a good singer, so, I apologize in advance.’

Remember those walls I built

Well, baby, they're tumbling down

And they didn't even put up a fight

They didn't even make a sound

I found a way to let you win

But I never really had a doubt

Standing in the light of your halo

I got my angel now

Amara’s jaw drops. She knew that Hana was underselling herself by apologizing for her voice --after all, Hana is good at absolutely everything-- but she didn’t expect her to have the vocal range of Mariah Carey.  

‘Fuck, guys, I have chills,’ Max says, his mouth wide open as well.

Liv exhales loudly, ‘Holy shit, Lee’s got pipes.’

Everywhere I'm looking now

I'm surrounded by your embrace

Baby, I can see your halo

You know you're my saving grace

You're everything I need and more

It's written all over your face

Baby, I can feel your halo

Pray it won't fade away

For the rest of the song, the whole room is silent, taking it all in and enjoying the melodious sound of Hana’s voice. When she finishes the last note, there’s a pause, and a massive round of applause. The gang cheers and screams her name.

She comes back to her booth, blushing. ‘Thanks, guys, I hope I was ok…’

‘OK??? Are you kidding me, Lee?’ Amara says excitedly. ‘You were Beyoncé level! That was glorious!’

Hana blushes some more, as Bruno makes his way to the table, holding a round of martinis. ‘Guys, this is on the house. Miss Hana, you were incredible. I’m speechless.’

‘Oh please,’ Hana says shyly, ‘it was just a little song.’

*****

Drake goes up to the stage reluctantly, following Max closely, not knowing what’s awaiting him. At least, Bertrand is on the same boat as him. 

Maxwell whispers something in Louis’s ear, and the man immediately grins widely, which suggests to Drake that this is gonna be something else.

He recognizes the song immediately, and curses Maxwell under his breath. ‘Oh please, you love it,’ Max replies.

Drake looks to Amara, who’s looking more excited than she’s ever been, obviously recognizing the song as well. Maxwell gestures for Drake to open the song. He rolls his eyes.

You are my fire

The one desire

Believe when I say

I want it that way

He can’t believe he’s singing this in public, but judging from the look on Amara’s face, she’s thoroughly enjoying the moment, so to hell with this. He’s gonna have fun.

Then, the chorus comes, and all three of them sing in unison:

Tell me why

Ain't nothin' but a heartache

Tell me why

Ain't nothin' but a mistake

Tell me why

I never want to hear you say

I want it that way

Drake grabs the drink that Bruno is handing him, silently thanks his savior, and downs it in one go. He’s gonna need this liquid courage to finish the song.

*****

Amara can’t believe her eyes, or her ears, for that matter. Her Drake, willingly singing a Backstreet Boys song. If they weren’t in public, she’d jump his bones right now. But also, the very fact that he went with Maxwell’s wild suggestion without questioning it shows a lot of growth on Drake’s part. The Drake who came to NYC would NOT have gone for a boy band karaoke song. 

She gets up and greets the three guys as they get off the stage. Drake opens his arms to her, and she wraps him in a warm hug. ‘That was hot,’ she whispers in his ear.

‘Oh, was it?’ he chuckles. 

She nods. Now, a very tall and very muscular uniformed cop is starting to sing Rihanna’s We Found Love, and people are beginning to dance. Amara takes Drake’s hand and guides him to the makeshift dancefloor, where they grind on each other for a while, completely forgetting about the crowd around them. They don’t even notice that the music has changed, now a female cop has started to sing a Kings of Leon song. They keep dancing closer and closer to each other, Amara’s body pressed against Drake, and his hands on her hips, drawing her closer. Their foreheads rest against each other, as they try not to kiss, but the intimate position they are in leaves very little to the imagination.  

He whispers, ‘You’re so fucking sexy.’ 

She runs her hands on his chest, then down on his stomach, almost reaching below his belt. She smirks.

‘Don’t tempt me, Suarez,’ he chuckles.

She’s aching to kiss him. No one is watching them, everyone is dancing to the music, and looking at the successive performers. ‘I want you,’ she whispers in his ear. ‘I don’t know that I can wait until we’re back at Ramsford.’

He bites his lip, his breath ragged. She knows he wants her too. ‘Fuck, Suarez, you make me so hard.’

She takes his hand and leads him to the corner where the bathrooms are. 

‘Are you nuts?’ he laughs. ‘That’s a public restroom. Not a palace bathroom…’

She laughs and whispers, ‘We just won’t touch anything. Meet me in a minute.’

She gets in, her heart racing. She looks at her reflection in the mirror, notices that her eye makeup is smudged, in a way that makes it look like a smokey eye. Drake gets in, and locks the door behind them. Without a word, he places himself behind Amara, both of them facing the mirror. He throws his arms around her waist, and one of his hands reaches under her dress, and in her panties. He quickly finds her clit, and draws circles around it with his thumb. She gasps, her breath now uneven. She turns her head just enough to capture Drake’s lips in hers, kissing him more and more deeply as his fingers explore her soaking wet folds. 

With her right hand, she reaches behind her, to undo his belt, and she sets his throbbing cock free. She wipes off his precum with her finger and rubs his length up and down, making him moan. He slides one more finger inside her, and she can’t wait any longer, she needs him inside her again. She shimmies out of her panties, and he lifts up her dress. She bends over a bit more, enough for Drake to find her entrance. He teases it with his cock, but her low groans don’t leave any doubt: she can’t wait. He needs to fuck her now. He enters her completely, making her gasp for air. She whispers, ‘Fuck me hard.’ He obliges. His thumb still on her clit, stroking it, caressing it, he fucks her harder and harder, deeper and deeper. Her walls contract around his cock, they pulsate, she can’t handle it anymore, she’s going to come. She hopes she can stay silent enough. His fingers are driving her crazy, her clit is throbbing under Drake’s hand. She feels his dick getting harder and harder inside her, and his breath is getting quicker against her neck. He kisses her ear a bit more urgently. She needs to try to hold on, she wants to come with him. She hopes he comes soon, she’s about to burst. 

‘Amara…’ he whispers, his voice raspy. It sends her over the edge. Her body gives in, her knees buckle, she comes for him so hard, she knows he can feel it, her walls contracting all around him. He moans long and hard, and she feels him fill her with his cum. They both catch their breath. 

‘Oh my God…’ she whispers. ‘That was… I’m still dizzy.’

‘I can’t breathe,’ he chuckles. ‘Wow. I should sing to you more often…’

*****

When they come back to the table, no one is paying attention to them, Hana, Bertrand and Maxwell being deep in a very giggly conversation. Only LIv is looking at them with a smirk on her face. ‘Did you horndogs just fuck in the bathroom?’ she asks. 

Amara rolls her eyes. ‘Ew, Liv, who do you take us for? A bathroom in a cop bar? That’s insane.’

‘Yeah, Nevrakis,’ Drake chimes in, ‘we may be commoners, but we’re not peasants.’

Liv snorts. ‘You’re not actors either. You’re both very bad liars. I hope you washed your hands. Suarez, I have a mission for you.’

‘Oh?’ Amara says.

‘I’ve been told by Little Beaumont that if I don’t sing a song, I will be, and I quote, ‘a stupid ass loser’. As much as I don’t care what he thinks, I think it could be fun. Do you want to--’ she wrings her hands together, visibly in the position of asking for a favor for the first time of her life, ‘do you want to sing one with me?’

Amara squeals, ‘Yes! Yes, Liv, I’ll sing with you!’

‘Alright, calm your tits,’ Olivia says with a dismissive hand gesture, ‘I’m not asking you to have a quickie in the bathroom, it’s just one song.’

‘Charming,’ Amara replies. ‘Got a suggestion for the title?’

‘Yeah. I already talked to Louis over there. Let’s go!’

They hop on stage, Olivia looking fierce in her tight black pants, high heels and bright red blouse. Amara can’t help but feel like a teletubby next to her, in her bright yellow dress. She bursts out laughing when she realizes which song Liv has chosen. Soo off-brand, and yet so perfect.

Humidity’s rising, barometer's getting low 

According to all sources, the street's the place to go 

'Cause tonight for the first time 

Just about half-past ten 

For the first time in history

It's gonna start raining men 

It's raining men, hallelujah, it's raining men, amen

I'm gonna go out to run and let myself get

Absolutely soaking wet

It's raining men, hallelujah

It's raining men, every specimen

Tall, blonde, dark and lean

Rough and tough and strong and mean

Amara looks at the crowd, and sees that the rest of the gang is standing up now, dancing to the rhythm. She winks at Drake.

*****

‘Aaaah, it was so FUN!’ Maxwell yells as he flops onto the couch, back at Ramsford. ‘That was such a good idea, Amara and Hana! We need to do it again.’

Liv takes off her heels and rubs her feet. ‘I’m as surprised as you guys, but believe it or not, I had a lot of fun! I can’t believe that Big Beaumont over here sang Backstreet Boys like a fucking champ!’ she says as she pats Bertrand’s back. 

‘Ha!’ he says, ‘I blame your um… bosom flask, as you say. I’m afraid I’m a tad tipsy. I should put myself to bed. Ladies and gents, it was grand. Thank you for including me tonight, it was a breath of fresh air. I will see you all tomorrow for breakfast.’

Everyone wishes him a good night and he disappears up the stairs. As soon as he’s out of earshot, Amara whispers, ‘Did he just say ‘bosom’?’

Drake chuckles. ‘Nevrakis, how does it feel to have Bertrand talk about your bosom?’

She shrugs, ‘Everyone talks about my bosom, if you must know. It’s a glorious bosom. Not as glorious as Suarez’s, of course, but I do what I can.’

Amara fake curtsies, ‘I am humbled, Lady Nevrakis.’

Maxwell opens a small bottle of sparkling water. ‘So, now that we’re in private… are you gonna tell us everything, Olivia?’

Liv raises an eyebrow. ‘What do you mean?’

Max rolls his eyes. ‘Come on. We saw you on your phone all day. You were actually--’ he whispers, ‘smiling.’ He fake gasps.

Liv sighs. ‘You guys are the fucking worst. No one can have a private life around here, huh? Did you blab, Suarez?’

Amara shakes her head as fast as she can, afraid that Liv is packing some hidden weapons somewhere, near her flask or in her hair. ‘No! I promise I didn’t blab!’

‘It’s not that hard to figure it out,’ Max adds. ‘You’ve never been in a better mood and you’re texting all day. Amara is not the only one with detective skills, you know! Call me Agent Breakdance!’

Liv snorts. ‘I’ll call you Agent Break Your Nose, that’ll be more on brand.’ She takes a sip of water. ‘Alright, you bitches, you win. I was texting someone all day, and I went on a date on Monday night. Happy?’

Hana smiles broadly. ‘It’s wonderful, Olivia! Is he nice?’

Olivia makes a disgusted face. ‘Nice? That’s gross. He’s sexy, and fun, and he respects me.’

‘Well that’s the whole package, then,’ Amara says, stroking Drake’s hair, as he’s lying down on her lap, both snuggled on the couch.

‘Tell us who he is, Liv!’ Max pleads. ‘I’ll tell you anything you want in return. I’ll tell you everything there is to know about me.’

‘Beaumont,’ she says solemnly, ‘I want to know absolutely nothing about you.’ She takes another sip, visibly pleased with herself for the suspense she’s creating, blissfully unaware that everyone knows who he is. ‘Alright, it’s Domvallier.’

Max feigns surprise. ‘Ohhhh, I love that for you! And he’s hot as fuck.’

‘Yes, Liv,’ Hana chimes in, ‘he’s a very handsome man, and very stylish!’

Olivia nods, a small smile on her lips. ‘I may actually like him, so you clowns better not ruin it for me, ok?’

Max puts a hand on his chest. ‘Liv, we would never! Our lips are sealed. Plus, all our friends are in this very room, so we have no one else to tell.’

Drake sighs, and makes eye contact with Amara. He wonders whether he should tell Liv that Liam knows about the two of them. He doesn’t want to ruin the night. He wonders what it would accomplish to tell her. Probably nothing, right? But the five of them have made a point of being honest with one another, and that’s crucial. He can’t lose her trust, not now. 

‘Liv, I gotta tell you something,’ he says. Amara’s eyes catch his, and she nods at him. He continues. ‘I hope you don’t freak out. But um… I think you deserve to have all the elements.’

Liv suddenly starts frowning, her uncharacteristic smile vanished. ‘What?’ she barks. ‘What is it?’

Drake sits up. ‘I saw Liam Monday night, he was back from the beach. He had texted you, remember?’

Liv’s face falls. ‘Yeah, I got a text from him asking if I want to meet him at the beach at midnight. I never responded, though.’

‘Well,’ Drake pursues, ‘He waited for you there anyways. He saw you and Rashad, and he knows there’s something between you two. He was very upset, and last I heard, he wanted to have a conversation with you to discuss what you want. He seemed to want to make a grand gesture, like an apology for taking you for granted.’

Liv purses her lips, visibly angry. ‘Oh, so Prince Liam wants to apologize, and as always, you’re his little lapdog, huh? His wingman? Like when you broke into Suarez’s room to drop off Liam’s note?’

Amara shakes her head, ‘Liv, that’s not what he’s saying. And that note was ages ago, before anything happened between us--’

‘Stop,’ Liv says. ‘Liam can give me any amount of attention he wants, I’m done with his pathetic ass. I know you fucking love him, Walker, and you think he’s the shit, but let me tell you, he’s never had any goddamn respect for me and my feelings, until he saw me exchanging sexts with another man.’ She stops and catches her breath. She suddenly looks very calm, as if she had just solved her own dilemma.

Drake puts his hands up. ‘I agree with you, Liv. I wasn’t pushing Liam onto you, I promise. Fuck, I think he’s been horrible to you, very manipulative, and you deserve so much better.’

‘Agreed,’ Liv spits. ‘I deserve the world. Liam is willing to give me what? A pity fuck and a dozen roses? Pathetic.’

‘Yeah!’ Max says angrily, obviously wanting to be part of the discussion. ‘Get it, girl!’

Drake nods, ‘Hey, I truly wasn’t telling you that you should be with Liam. I think Rashad is a very cool dude, and I can see the two of you getting along. Like you said, he respects you, and that’s what matters. Please, Nevrakis, don’t shoot the messenger. I was just telling you what I know, so you’re not blindsided when Liam comes to talk to you.’

Olivia nods angrily, visibly calming down a bit. ‘Yeah. I guess it’s good to know.’

Amara chimes in, ‘It doesn’t change the fact that Rashad is good for you. It’s unfortunate that Liam saw you, but it doesn’t change anything at the end of the day. That’s not what Drake meant at all. He was just giving you a heads up.’

Liv, still frowning, nods. ‘Ok. Fine. Sorry. I didn’t mean to snap. I’m just sick of Liam getting what he wants. It’s too little, too late. If he asks me, I’ll tell him the truth. I have no idea if Rashad and I are going anywhere, but he’s making me feel more appreciated than Liam ever has.’

Drake smiles and takes Amara’s hand, relieved that she understood him and what he was trying to do. He doesn’t blame Liv for snapping, though. He used to be what she said: Liam’s wingman whatever happened. Now, in the wake of finding out how forceful he could be, like he was with Amara, and how dismissive he was with Liv, he doesn’t know if he can ever really be in Liam’s corner again. Not like before, anyways. 

Hana clears her throat and speaks the words of wisdom: ‘How about we all get some rest, huh? Olivia, we’re all very happy you’ve found someone you feel comfortable with, and none of us disagree with you being upfront with Liam. We all want you to be happy. Now go to bed and turn off your phone.’

Liv snorts, ‘Yes, mom.’

*****

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Thank you for your encouragements, everyone! Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist :)

[katjacksonbooks]

If you’ve read Room for Three (Erotic Accommodations, book 1) and you’ve found yourself wondering “I wonder what Cali, Mike and Precious are up to,” here’s a short scene of them coping with the stress of the pandemic and new changes in their lives. 

If you haven’t read it, you can buy the ebook on amazon, barnes & noble, kobo and apple for $1.99. 

If money is too tight for books, feel free to pick up a bundle of this and some of my other books on payhip and pay whatever you want. 

And if you’d like to support The Ripped Bodice in this stressful time, you can pick up a paperback copy of Room for Three? and Neighborly or some of my other books here. 

I hope everyone is well and this brings you a bit of joy. And watch this space for some other quick check-ins on some of my favorite characters over the next few days. <3

SIX WEEKS

 “Stay out there,” Cali called to Precious, who was patiently waiting just at the threshold of their new rental home.

“I can help,” Precious said.

“No, I’ve got it. Stay there. I’m almost done.”

Precious rolled her eyes. “You could be done faster if you just let me help you.”

Cali didn’t even respond to Precious’s well-reasoned offer. She shook her head and kept disinfecting their groceries before she put them away. Precious watched, feeling helpless and a little anxious as Cali scrubbed at every surface with the intensity of a woman on the edge, because she was, which only made Precious feel even more anxious.

She couldn’t keep watching her, so she turned and walked through the living room and down the hall to the bathroom — their second bathroom.

When they’d decided to move to New Mexico, they’d been so shocked at the realization that they could afford to rent a small house, not just an apartment, on just Precious’s salary. They’d had to fight the urge while looking at apartments to get the biggest house in their budget and maybe assuage their realtor’s curiosity at why three people were only looking for two-bedroom houses. They didn’t need much space. A big enough bedroom for their California king bed and a small second bedroom for visitors and, eventually, a nursery.

But the second bathroom was a revelation because it meant that when their family members visited, they wouldn’t have to share a bathroom with new people. They were more than adept at sharing a bathroom — and everything else — between the three of them, but the idea of sharing with other people made them nervous. But when they saw that second bathroom, all of those fears had washed away.

Although right now, who knew how long it would be before they had visitors, and they only used this second bathroom to shower whenever one of them — usually Mike — left to go to the store. And that’s where Precious found him.

She pushed into the bathroom without knocking.

“Mike,” she called to him.

He was rinsing shampoo from his hair, and he cracked open an eye to look at her. “Don’t touch anything,” he practically yelled. “I’m going to disinfect in here when I’m done.”

“Oh. My. Fucking. God!” Precious screamed.

“What’s wrong?” Cali yelled from the kitchen.

“Are you okay?” Mike asked as he stepped from the shower, shutting it off absentmindedly.

He stood in front of her naked and wet, and at any other moment, Precious might have already stripped naked to join him under the spray.

“What’s wrong?” Cali panted behind her. She’d run from the kitchen.

Precious swiveled her head back and forth to glare at each of them in turn. “Stop treating me like I’m fragile,” she said. “I’m not.”

She could see Mike fighting not to say something that Cali just said.

“The fuck you aren’t. You’re literally six weeks pregnant. Anything could happen to you,” Cali shrieked.

She sounded hysterical, and Precious understood why. She also knew that Mike felt exactly the same way, and it made her furious.

It wasn’t that she begrudged them their fear, she didn’t, she just hated that they wouldn’t let her share in it with them. This wasn’t the pregnancy she’d imagined, but who ever imagined being pregnant during a pandemic? No one.

“We’re just nervous,” Mike said carefully.

“So am I,” Precious said, swiveling her head again.

But her eyes caught on Cali’s face because what Precious saw there wasn’t nerves, it was terror. It wasn’t just Cali’s darting wide eyes; it was the way she was wringing her dry, cracked hands in front of her body. They were all nervous about the pregnancy in these strange times, but Precious knew the way Cali thought. She knew that of all of them, the danger of this moment might trigger her latent grief about her parents’ death.

Precious took a deep breath because she knew that Cali had started seeing Dr. Toussaint through video chat three times a week, and when she wasn’t cleaning, she was reading every pregnancy and baby book she’d accumulated before the move or checking new ones out on the library’s Overdrive site.

Precious took another deep breath, unclenched her fists, and spoke slowly. “I know that there’s a whole fucking lot going on right now, and I know you both love me, but I’m a person too. I’m not just a womb for our baby, and I’m not so fucking fragile that I can’t help you two disinfect stuff, and sometimes, I need to get out of the house too.”

Cali’s knuckles were going white, she was clenching her hands so hard. She swallowed and shook her head, tears in her eyes. “I don’t want anything to happen to you,” she whispered in a fragile tone that broke Precious’s heart.

“And you think I want something to happen to you?” Precious asked.

Cali’s eyebrows bunched.

“Or Mike,” Precious continued. “Do you think I love you two any less than you love me?”

Cali’s tears spilled over her cheeks. Precious and Mike bumped into each other getting to her. Precious wrapped her arms around Cali’s waist and rested her chin on Cali’s shoulder while Mike gathered Cali against his chest.

They held her and each other while Cali cried silently.

Dr. Toussaint is going to be so proud of her, Precious thought with a smile. They’d been working on Cali expressing her emotions when she felt them and without a filter. She didn’t mention it in the moment, but she would later. She was certain Cali would blush as she accepted the praise. Precious could only imagine how adorable she would look in that moment, and she tightened her arms around Cali at the thought.

“I’m sorry,” Cali mumbled against Mike’s chest.

“Sorry,” Precious said. “I didn’t hear that, can you—”

“No,” Cali laughed. “Shut up.”

Mike’s chest rumbled with laughter.

“I didn’t realize I would feel like this when you were pregnant. I didn’t think…” Her voice trailed off, and she burrowed into Mike’s chest, rubbing her cheek against his skin.

“I get it,” Precious said. “What’s your excuse?” she asked Mike, squinting up at him with a playful smile on his face.

His wet hair was streaming water down his neck, and that one curl right in the center of his forehead was perfectly round. He grinned, and his sharp jaw jutted forward as he shrugged. “I’m just generally terrified. I don’t know anything about pregnancy or babies. Before the pandemic, I was freaking out that I’d lose the kid under a couch cushion while playing Halo.”

“What?” Precious breathed.

Cali’s body shook with laughter.

“I know. I don’t even play Halo.”

Precious took a deep breath to calm the nervous giggles that wanted to spill from her mouth. “I say this with every bit of love I have,” she said in slow, deliberate words. “You two are absolutely fucking ridiculous.”

There was a moment of silence.

“Duh,” Cali breathed, turning her head to raise a skeptical eyebrow at her.

“Are you just now realizing that? You’re the sensible one in this relationship.”

“Definitely,” Cali added.

Precious let go of Cali’s waist and moved to stand beside them. She took another deep breath and thought of how easy it would be to learn Lamaze with all the practice she was getting. “Well, since I’m the sensible one, how about you two listen to me and just…chill. Don’t treat me like I need to be covered in bubble wrap or think you have to take care of me without letting me take care of you too.”

“But Precious,” Mike started, but Precious cut him off with a raised hand.

“This is going to be a long ass pregnancy. Soon enough, I won’t be able to do some things, and I won’t want to, but until that time comes, just treat me the same.”

Precious could see the battle behind Cali’s eyes. Mike tightened his arm around Cali’s shoulders and held her close to him. “It won’t be easy, but we can do that. Right, babe?” he asked Cali.

Cali’s eyes darted between him and Precious. She worried her lip and swallowed thickly before nodding. “I’ll add it to my list for Dr. Toussaint,” she said.

Precious pushed a hard breath out of her mouth, relaxing muscles she hadn’t even realized were tensed. She rushed to press her body against Cali’s, holding the other woman’s face in her hands, gently and reverently. Her thumbs caressed Cali’s bottom lip. She licked her lips, and Cali’s lips parted on a soft sigh.

“All I want is for you to try,” she said, reassuring Cali with her words and her touch.

“I can do that,” Cali breathed.

“So can I,” Mike said as his hands moved up and down Precious and Cali’s backs. “Um, since we’re all feeling better…” His voice trailed off, and his hips jutted forward.

Cali and Precious turned to him. “Seriously?” Precious asked.

“You interrupted my shower,” he said as if that was an answer to her question.

“I’m okay with it,” Cali said, her small, dry hand covering Mike’s hardening penis.

Precious laughed. “I’m shocked,” she said, pulling Cali into a kiss. Their lips and tongues touched tentatively as Cali squeezed Mike’s dick rhythmically.

“Let’s go to bed,” Precious said against Cali’s lips, already stepping into the hallway. She walked backward to their bedroom, watching as Cali followed her and led Mike by the tip of his penis.

In their almost fully unpacked bedroom, Cali and Precious quickly undressed as Mike climbed onto the bed. Precious kissed her way up Mike’s thighs, licking at the leaking head of his dick, her eyes on him as she moved up his body.

Her back arched as she groaned into the muscled planes of his abs when she felt Cali’s tongue at her wet cleft. Precious had been on a mission up Mike’s body, but she stalled as Cali pulled her ass cheeks apart and licked her from her puckered bud to her clit and back again. Precious had just enough wherewithal to wrap her hand around Mike’s dick and stroke him, his abs jumping under her cheek as Cali’s tongue brought her over the edge. Before long, her body was slick with sweat and shaking as Cali sucked her sensitive clit, bringing her to a quick, intense second orgasm.

Precious jumped when Cali’s palm smacked her ass cheek. She was so weak, all she could do was laugh and crumple to her side, her cheek on Mike’s stomach. It was the perfect vantage point to watch as Cali sucked Mike’s dick so deep his hips arched from the bed, and he groaned so loudly it shocked Precious, but in a good way.

Mike’s hand landed heavily on the small of Precious’s back, stroking her and squeezing her ass as she and Cali made eye contact, watching one another as Cali’s lips moved up and down Mike’s shaft.

After a few minutes, Cali released the head of Mike’s dick with an obscene pop that made Precious’s clit ache. Cali leaned forward to kiss Precious so she could taste herself and Mike on Cali’s tongue. As always, it was the specific dirty romanticism that Precious had fallen in love with years ago.

Their kiss didn’t last long because even though Precious had come twice, Mike and Cali were still desperate for one another. Precious watched as Cali gripped the base of Mike’s dick and threw her legs open over his waist.

Mike’s hand clenched around the meat of Cali’s ass, his fingers playing at her opening from behind.

Precious watched with rapt attention as Mike’s dick slowly disappeared between Cali’s legs. Her nails scraped across Mike’s happy trail. She moaned as his fingers pressed between her legs and slipped inside her pussy.

His fingers fucked her as Cali rode his dick, and for the next few hours, they forgot about how difficult it was to find toilet paper, or about where exactly to store all the kimchi Mike’s parents had sent them, or the fact that Cali was terrified about her sister all alone in her cottage now that the local libraries were closed. They even stopped worrying about if they could paint their spare bedroom that would have to be a nursery sooner than they planned or the fact that they hadn’t had nearly enough time to find a doctor to get them through this pregnancy before the pandemic.

They fucked and kissed and licked and sucked one another and allowed themselves to forget how terrifying the world was outside their door, because whatever was out there, they knew they’d get through it together.

[peaches-of-1]

(Y/N), Namjoon, and The Great Comet of 1812 (Cont)

This is part 2 of this story. I’ll be releasing them all today, so don’t worry about missing any or having to wait long for the next part.

Changes: Russia is changed to Korea. Hanboks and such are worn. Instead of French being high language, it is English. Everyone is speaking in Korean, but since English is the language I am writing in, them actually speaking in English will be denoted by (^) being around the word(s). Example ^I love you^

Mstrlst in bio!

After the show, Jin and his sister went to her place for a bit, still in good spirits and not wanting the night to end. Hyolyn just wanted to grab her purse and leave, but her brother ended up talking to her husband while she scoffed and left ahead of them all.

Jin bowed to the younger but richer man, “Good evening, Namjoon, studying?” Namjoon replied, “Yes, how was the opera?” “Lovely~ (Y/N) was there.” He perked up at the mention of her name, “Oh? Dear Jackson's betrothed?” The man looked away from his book and towards Jin. “I have known her family for years and long carried affection for her.”

Seokjin rolled his eyes. The amount of times he had been told this were astounding, “Yes… charming.” He clapped his friend’s shoulders. “Look, Yoongi’s coming around, and we're off to the club. Will you come, old man?”

Drinking? And he wouldn’t be alone?

Joon’s reply, “I will come.”

“Lend me 835.53 won?”

Yoongi entered the room jamming to a tune he often sung when excited, “Drink, drink. Gonna drink tonight. Gonna drink tonight. Gonna drink, gonna drink, gonna drink tonight. Gonna drink tonight. Gonna drink tonight. Gonna--”

The other men joined in as they rode to the nearest club gathering, “Drink, drink. Gonna drink tonight. Gonna drink tonight. Gonna, gonna drink, gonna drink tonight. Gonna drink tonight. Gonna drink tonight.”

It was a song everyone in the club knew, and so they were singing it when the three men arrived to join the party. Hyolyn waved them over since she enjoyed the company of 2 out of three of the men.

Drink with me, my love For there's fire in the sky And there's ice on the ground Either way, my soul will die Whoa-ohhhh-oh-ohhhhh-oh-ohhh oo-oh-oo-oh-oo-oh

Grabbing his first drink, Namjoon told his friends, “The doctors warned me that with my corpulence.”

Others scoffed, “Corpulence!”

“Soju and wine are dangerous for me.” He downed the first cup and got another fill. “But I drink a great deal. Only quite at ease after pouring several glasses mechanically into my large mouth.” Now when one drinks and drinks a lot, they tend to feel a pleasant warmth in their body as well as a sentimental attachment to their fellow man. That was the same here. People who were known as shy or the usually kept to themselves became more tender and loving and touchy with the consumption of alcohol. Others cried in corners but the other drunkards came over to comfort them.

Looking over at her betrothed as she sat on a table, Hyolyn told her husband to keep drinking since it was the easiest and best way to keep him busy. He did. Then both Yoongi and Jin cheered on their friend in his drunken endeavor to chug himself into an early grave. But it was all in the name of fun, of course.

Nearly an hour had passed at this point where Jin pouted and stared into his mug of beer, “(Y/N), oh (Y/N)! Her arms, her shoulders, her neck, her feet.”

Hyolyn chuckled, “The air of a connoisseur.”

“I will make love to her!” He loudly proclaimed.

Suga, standing in between Hyolyn’s legs, hands on her thighs, decided to warn his friend against such a choice, “Better not, ^mister^. She's first rate, but nothing but trouble.”

Both him and his lover said, “Better wait ‘til she's married!”

Seokjin was actually a married man. This was a fact known only to his intimates since a Chinese landowner of some small means had forced him to marry his daughter.

He waved it away, “Nevermind about that now. It doesn't matter; I don't give a damn! Just as a duck is made to swim in water God has made me as I am. All I care for is gaiety and women and there's no dishonor in that. As long as there's money and soju, I'll keep a feather in my hat.”

The whole hall was a beautiful sound of clamor and excitement, “Whoa-ohhhh-oh-ohhhhh- oh-ohhh oo-oh-oo-oh-oo-oh!” Now past the giddy stages of his drunkenness, Namjoon bemoaned his current situation as he usually did, “I used to love! I used to love! I used to be better!” To which his friends replied, “Keep drinking old man.”

Honestly, Hyolyn was over it, “Drink, drink, drink. God to think I married a man like you!”

“Don't speak to me, wife! There is something inside me…” He didn’t know what, but he knew that she wasn’t helping.

“Suga, pour me another!”

Namjoon continued talking to himself and contemplating life, “Something terrible and monstrous…” It had been many hours now since this party began and it didn’t seem like there was any sign of it ending any time soon. Yoongi, now with Hyolyn on his lap, raised a toast, “Here's to the health of married women, and a smile lurks at the corner of my mouth. Here's to the health of married women and their lovers!”

Everyone who heard raised their glasses as well, “Here's to the health of married women! Here's to the health of married women, and their lovers!”

It took a while, but Namjoon began to realize what was going on. His suspicions. The gossip. The constant whispers about his relationship or lack of with the woman he had never consummated his marriage with. Yoongi was all over her. All over his wife!

“Here's to the health of married women! Here's to the health of married women! And their lovers!”

Angry and drunk, Namjoon shoved the black haired man, “How dare you touch her?”

Not even trying to hide things, Yoongi replied, “You can't love her!”

“Enough!” He bellowed. “You bully, you scoundrel! I challenge you!”

Whispers spread and people moved about to give them space. The two men began to walk outside.

Suga was simply amused, “Oh, a duel? Yes, this is what I like.”

With slight worry about the outcome, Hyolyn tried to stop the man she married, “He will kill you, stupid husband.”

If you may recall, Suga was a very good shot. He killed the brother of a very important man and was fawned over for it. There was grounds for his cockiness especially when it came to the terms of a duel.

Did Namjoon care?

“So I shall be killed! What is it to you?”

Nope.

He reached his hand out to his friend, “Hyung, my guns.”

To which Jin gave to him, but not without speaking his mind, “Oh, this is horribly stupid.”

Yoongi had his guns too, “Well, let's begin. This is child's play!”

People watched from the windows and the stoop of the two men who had gotten drunk and angry as men tended to do when drunk. Especially if a drink or twelve was how they decided to “cope” with their feelings.

One man spoke, their referee, “As the adversaries have refused a reconciliation, we shall please proceed with the duel. Ready your pistols...And on the count of 세 begin to advance! Everyone counted, “하나 , 둘 , 세!”

Jin hated this, “Namjoon, hold your fire. Joonie, hold your fire. Namjoon, not yet!”

The trigger was pulled by a man who could barely stand on his own two feet. The bullet hit its target.

Suga reared back, “No! Shot by a fool!!!” This evern sobered Namjoon up real quick, “No, wait, I didn't mean –” “Quiet, old man!” The other man yelled back. “My turn.” His turn to shoot, and Namjoon’s turn to…

“Namjoon, stand back!” Jin ordered, not wanting to see his brother in law get hurt. Gunshot. Hyolyn screamed, but for who? A moment later, and it was revealed that the younger man was unharmed.

Yoongi couldn’t believe it as he stumbled, “Missed, missed. Oh my mother, my angel. My adoréd angel mother.” He was losing blood fast and wasn’t making any sense. “Take him away.” The only important woman in this scene said.

As onlookers began to help get Suga to the nearest surgeon’s, the referee said, “The sun is rising, the duel is at an end, and Kim Namjoon is the winner.”

He would hardly call this a triumph, “Winner? Winner.”

His wife took one more jab at him before walking away, “You are a fool!”

Ladies laughed but were silenced as Hyolyn looked at them with sharp and unamused eyes. They quickly went back inside to see if there was any more money to be made before the sun was completely up. Jin walked beside his sister, “Well, sweet sister, you certainly bring out the beast in men.” “What can I say? It's a gift.” She said quite bitterly.

“How I adore you.” He said and opened his sister’s carriage door for her. He asked her, “Will you ask (Y/N) to the ball tonight?” before closing it. Hyolyn smiled at him, “Of course, dear brother.”

Seokjin closed the door and his sister rode off to get some sleep. He returned to his friend who was staring at the blood stained snow only a few feet away.

“Come on, old man, let's get you home.”

“In a moment.” “Sleep it off,” he helped his old friend up. “And be happy, we live to love another day.”

Now at home, in a place that wasn’t his bed and yet not his study, Namjoon became introspective using his sober mind, something that rarely happened. He tried to keep it at bay. However, the fact that he could die and very soon had been put right in front of him tonight after challenging the best marksman to a duel.

He wiped his lips from the vomit that just passed them, slammed his gun down on the piano’s top and began playing the same chords over and over again.

“Is this how I die?” He asked himself. “Ridiculed and laughed at. Wearing clown shoes? Is this how I die? Furious and reckless? Sick with booze?”

Looking around at the empty and dark room, he asked to no one but himself and started playing like he used to, “How did I live?”

He tasted every wasted minute, every time he turned away from the things that might have healed him. How long had he been sleeping?

“Is this how I die?” The question came again to Namjoon. “Frightened like a child? Lazy and numb? Is this how I die? Pretending and preposterous and dumb?” He scoffed. How did he live? Was he kind enough and good enough? Did he love enough? Did he ever look up and see the moon and the stars and the sky?

He was furious at how blind he felt, how blind he had made himself, “Oh why have I been sleeping?”

A thought came to his head. It was so strong, that it stilled his hands. They say we are asleep until we fall in love. We are children of dust and ashes, but when we fall in love we wake up and we are a God and angels weep.

Namjoon was more than asleep. He might as well be dead due to his lack of ever loving someone. But if I die here tonight, I die in my sleep. As he saw his unfinished books lying all around, he got mad and spoke quickly “All of my life I spent searching the words of poets and saints and prophets and kings, and now at the end all I know that I’ve learned is that all that I know is I don’t know a thing.”

It was so easy for him to close off and place the blame outside. He was always just hiding in his room at night so terrified. He thought of all the things he could have been, but he never had the nerve.

Life and love?

He didn’t deserve either after throwing everything away.

“So all right, all right! I’ve had my time. Close my eyes, let the death bells chime! Bury me in burgundy, I just don’t care! Nothing’s left! I looked everywhere!”

If books didn’t have the answer. If booze didn’t have the answer. How would any one man have the answer to life, to love that he had been searching for his entire life?

Is this how I die?

“Was there ever any other way my life could be?”

Is this how I die? Such a storm of feelings inside of me?

He gripped the end of his bed as tears fell from his eyes, “But then why am I screaming? Why am I shaking?”

Kim Namjoon didn’t dare ask he next questions out loud, Oh God, was there something that I missed? Did I squander my divinity? Was happiness within me the whole time?

They say we are asleep until we fall in love. We are children of dust and ashes, but when we fall in love we wake up and we are a God and angels weep.

If he would never love, he believed he would die here tonight and in his sleep.

“They say we are asleep until we fall in love...and I’m so ready to wake up now.” He threw away all his bottles, just chucked them out the window. Maybe it would help. Maybe something good would come of it.

“I want to wake up!” Namjoon admitted. “Don’t let me die while I’m like this. I want to wake up! God don’t let me die while I’m like this. Please let me wake up now! God don’t let me die while I’m like this!”

He would do anything. He was on his knees. All he wanted was to fall in love with someone. It didn’t matter if they loved him back. Kim Namjoon wanted, no had to feel what love felt like at least once his life no matter the cost.

Tears started to stream down his face as he yelled, “I’m ready! I’m ready to wake up!!!”

But would he ever truly wake up?

Early Sunday morning, you and Jeongyeon lit a candle placed far away from any doors and looked in the mirror to see if any premonitions of the future could be seen. She told you to look, but you saw nothing.

“I see my face.” You said.

To which Jeongyeon replied, “Don’t be silly. They say you can see your future in the long row of candles stretching back and back and back into the depths of the mirror. In the dim confused last square you’ll see a coffin or a man.” She rolled her eyes. “Everyone sees a man.”

All you could see were the candles stretching back so far away, “I see the mirrors...I see a shape in the darkness. Is it him or is it—He’s lying down!” You grabbed Jeongyeon’s arm. “Oh Sonya why is he lying down? I’m so frightened!”

You feared that Jackson would never come or something will happen to you before he did.

Interrupting, Youngja called from the foyer, “Sunday morning! Time for church!”

On your way there, as it was customary and not necessarily because you had faith, you worried no suffered more now than before. The theater and Seokjin. That man who aroused such terrible feelings you didn’t understand.

In your mind you asked to anyone who was listening, Have I broken faith with Jackson? Am I guilty?

After church, Youngja left for Prince YG’s place, screaming, “The rudeness of that man! I’ll straighten him out!” She said, grabbing her heaviest fan. You didn’t even wanna hear that name again, “That terrible old Prince. I can’t bear to think of it! I’ll shut myself in my room, and try on new dresses!”

Making your way to your room, you undressed to be only in bloomers while your cousin went off to say goodbye to your godmother and then off to write some letters. It is what people often did in their past times.

And just after Youngja left, there was a knock at the door. You had just turned your head to the glass when you heard a voice that made you flush.

“Oh my enchantress, oh you beautiful thing. Charming, charming. Oh, this is really beyond anything.” It was Hyolyn dressed as beautifully as always, a dark fur coat draped across her green and black hanbok.

Although the other maids were lowing their heads, not daring to set their eyes on you in this undressed state, she eyed you up and down. It was a curious thing, but you didn’t hate the attention. Of course she wanted to look at you. You were you.

Hyolyn went to the closet, looking through your things casually and eventually pulling one out to look at better, “These dresses suit you.” She motioned to her own clothing now that her coat was off. “This one, ‘metallic gauze’ straight from Paris. Anything suits you, my charmer.” Your cheeks were on fire. To say you had a praise kink wouldn’t be wrong, but it wasn’t sexual satisfaction that you were getting from this. No, not at all. Flattery was simply something you ate up quite easily and also got a lot of. You were spectacular in every area of life, obviously, but it didn’t hurt to hear it from others who agreed as well.

“You’re so ^charming, so charming!^ You are such a lovely thing oh where have you been? It’s such a shame to bury pearls in the country ^charming, so charming^ quite charming.”

Another and more revealing dress that you had gotten (even though you weren’t sure you would ever wear it) was taken out of your wardrobe by Hyolyn. You were still in just a bra and panties soaking up every drop of attention.

The dirty-blonde girl got you to stand up and held the dress in front of you, “Now if you have a dress, you must wear it out. How can you live in Seoul and not go nowhere? So you love somebody?” She sat on your bed, “Charming, but that’s no reason to shut yourself in. Even if you’re engaged, you must wear your dress out somewhere.”

She threw the dress on the bed and held both of your hands, sitting you in front of your golden vanity. Hyolyn spoke as she styled your hair, “My brother dined with me yesterday, but he didn’t eat a thing cuz he was thinking ’bout you. He kept sighing about you~.”

You had to stand up and hold your cheeks as they began to warm and blush once more. Again she called you charming in English and asked how someone as beautiful as you could’ve stayed in the Korean countryside for so long. How a charming person such as yourself enjoyed living in such a boring place.

Compared to the city, she was right. “Now a woman with a dress is a frightening and powerful thing. You are not a child when you’re draped in scarlet and lace.” Hyolyn took the simple pearl locket you had gotten from Jackson from your neck and playfully ran away with it. “Your fiancé would want you to have fun rather than be bored to death. ^Go out in the world rather than dying from boredom^”

She instead gave you the double layered pearl necklace she had been wearing at yesterday’s opera. You still weren’t sure if this would be the right thing to do what with your head still swimming about questions of the heart. Why would he talk about you so much to his sister? Would he even want you at the party? He did invite you before, but for what reason?

Hyolyn could see the questions as if you had written them plainly on a blank page. She smirked at how naïve you were and decided one more thing that would get you to say yes. Playing her biggest card, she gave you the brightest grin.

“My brother is quite madly in love. He is quite madly in love with you, my dear~”

No way. Even though she spoke, it was hard for you to listen as a new and more fabulous dress was tied around your waist. It seemed to be the one Hyolyn liked the most on you. Was his love truly the reason for him wanting you to come to the ball? It’s not like anyone would ever lie to you about such things, so it had to have been the truth.

What once seemed so terrible, now seemed simple and natural. She knew that you’re engaged, and still she talked so frankly. So it must be all right!

Hyolyn knew she had you and sprinkled more compliments on just in case, “There is a ball at my house tonight. You must come~ Oh your wide-open, wondering eyes! You will be the prettiest there~!”

How the thought of throwing them together amused her!

“You must come~”

You nodded and answered, “I will come.” with a giggle.

As she left, you admired yourself in the mirror. This white dress sparkled and shone more than anything you had ever worn before. It was devoid of any straps or sleeves that weren’t completely made of thin lace. The layers of the skirt made them fun to hold and twirl around in since they would fly up like angel wings.

Jin was waiting at the door. Waiting at the door, waiting. Simply waiting at the door. Waiting at the door, waiting.

Oh, how I adore little girls! He thought to himself. They lose their heads at once!

You entered in your whitest of dresses with pearls in your hair and white lacy gloves on your hands. Jin was dressed in the fashion of a European soldier such as those seen in the Nutcracker play you had gone to since you were a child. Nothing like the opera of yesterday.

He eagerly grabbed your hand the moment you entered and began twirling you about the dance floor. You were seized by feelings of vanity and fear since once more there was no barrier between you and him. Whispers and moans, and ringing in your ear though nobody was as close to you as Jin was. There was no barrier.

Things were divine, delicious, but you did not see or hear anything. You were borne away to a senseless world so strange, so remote. You no longer knew good from bad because of Seokjin. Kim Seokjin.

One thought crossed your mind, I'm so frightened.

“You are enchanting.” He said.

But his words didn’t comfort you as much as they should have. And as you danced, he pressed your waist and hand and told you that you were--

“Bewitching.” Then he smiled, “And I love you.”

He was more bewitching as he said those words, “And I love you”

And during the ecossaise, he gazed in your eyes. He said nothing just gazed in your eyes, your frightened eyes. Jin had such confident tenderness, you could not say what you had to say. Instead, you tried to lower your face as not to be entranced by his deep gaze. It didn’t work.

Instead, he lifted your chin up and spoke, “Don't lower your eyes. I love you. I am in love, dear. I am in love. Gaze in my eyes. I love you. You are bewitching. What can I do? Darling, what can I do?”

You replied with shaking confidence, “Don't say such things. I am betrothed; I love another.”

“Don't speak to me of that when I tell you that I am madly, madly in love with you!” He licked his plump lips. “Is it my fault that you're enchanting?”

All you could think about was how you were so frightened. You didn’t understand anything tonight.

Jin held you closer, “I'm here now~”

And tilted his head to kiss you, but you broke away, pushing him. What was going on? This wasn’t who you were! Was it?

“(Y/N)?” He spoke.

You could feel his eyes upon upir. Blocking your path, he brought your face close to his. His large, glittering, masculine eyes were so close to yours that you saw nothing else.

“Is it possible that I should never see you again? I love you madly! Can I never?”

Seokjin chased you through the halls of the divine dance, “(Y/N)?”

He was finally able to catch you with both hands that pressed into your arm.

“(Y/N)?”

He’s hurting your hands as his grip slipped to them!

“(Y/N)?”

You didn't understand. You had nothing to say...as he kissed you. So rough and desperately that you could not help but kiss him back and hold him tight. Not even sure where you were or whose eyes were on you. Not caring, either. Jin and you embraced passionately as heat took control of your actions. Burning lips pressed to yours until he pulled away after what felt like an eternity. You silently asked for someone to tell you what just happened. You’re trembling. It was all so frightening.

Jackson. The name floats in your consciousness, but you love Jin. Of that there is no doubt. How else could all of this have happened? How else could you have kissed? It means that you have loved him from the first. It means that he was kind, noble, and splendid.

And I could not help loving you. I will love you, Jin-oppa. Your heart beat. I'll do anything for you.

You can only look at each other as you both promised, “I'll do anything for you.”

Before you realized it, you ran back to him and he took your hand. The two of you left the party to do what most people did when they leave a party with someone they were romantically and physically attracted to. Especially when they believe they are in love with one another.

[theinvisiblespoon]

Front of a Building - Chapter 5: You Waited Smiling For This

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Yeah, I know, I know, it’s been five-ever. And it’s 1:30am EST. But here’s the thing; I made an outline. That’s when you know you’re screwed. Have fun! :)  Chapter title is from the song “burned out” by dodie. It’s cool. She’s cool. 

Word count: 1938 

Trigger warnings: insanity, manipulation, alcohol mention, fear, anger, surgery and gunshot mention, gun mention, discussion of murder (wkm), brief allusion to violence. It’s gonna be bad in the next one, too.

Ego Manor had three floors. The top floor only held Dark and Wilford. The second floor held the kitchen, storage closets, bathrooms, and the rooms of Bing, the Jims, King of the Squirrels, Bim Trimmer, Dr. Iplier, Chef Iplier, and Silver Shepherd. The first floor held a living room, a library, a recording studio, a clinic, bathrooms and the rooms of Host, Google, Ed Edger, and Yandereplier. It was less of a “manor” and more of a “really big house”, but everyone, if not lived together, existed together.

Dr. Iplier was helping Wilford Warfstache up the stairs to his room after the incident that had just occurred in the kitchen. It left him with more questions than answers, but at least he knew not to ask Wilford about this “William” guy again. He couldn’t say that he didn’t want to try again, however. He needed to know what was happening. And if the cost was the rest of Wilford’s sanity…Dr. Iplier glanced at his charge, who was mumbling softly, barely conscious. The doctor shook his head; what was he thinking? He couldn't do that to another ego, much less one of the oldest. But there was the thing — according to the Host, Wilford and Dark weren't the oldest. According to the Host, it was the Jims, of all people. How much did the Host know? That weirdo seemed to understand more than he was letting on.

"No, hey there, we're going this way, Wilford," he urged, turning the ego away from the banister.

"…it's my fault…" he stumbled, but Dr. Iplier caught him before anything else could happen. "…didn't mean to, I swear…"

The doctor searched Wilford's eyes, but they remained as unfocused as ever. "It's…okay, Wilford. It's okay. Just come with me, alright?"

He said something indistinguishable, and Dr. Iplier took that as a confirmation. As they struggled down the hallway and into Wilford's room, the doctor couldn't help but peek at the door to Dark's room. Three weeks had passed since, for lack of better words, his surgery. Wilford lurched forward before the doctor could get a longer look.

"Alright, alright, come on, in bed, let's go…" The Host had really outdone himself; Warfstache was utterly out of it. With one last push, Wilford fell into his bed, dazed and confused. He muttered something again, but it was barely audible.

"What was that?" Dr. Iplier asked, leaning in.

"…don't leave me here. Don't…" Wilford's face scrunched up at some unseen torment.

"Wilford, it's fine. I'll stay if you need—"

"…please, you're all I have left. I'm sorry, don't leave me, don't…" Wilford finally trailed off, sound asleep.

The doctor straightened up, confusion evident. Who was Wilford talking to? Who was William? What the hell was going on?

He leaned back, rubbing his face and calming his breathing. He needed…he needed coffee, he thought. He needed a drink, he tried not to think. Intent on making his way to the kitchen, he stepped out of Wilford's room, but then stopped in the middle of the hallway. Slowly, he turned to the next door down. Did he dare check on Dark? Everyone avoided the top floor when possible, and no one ever went within five feet of Dark's bedroom.

There were three steps between him and the door. Reluctantly, but fueled by curiosity and obligation, he took one of them. What are you so afraid of? He took the second. It's just a door. Don't be so paranoid. He took the last and raised his hand, but before he could knock, he heard a sharp ringing noise coming from directly behind him. Whirling around, he locked eyes with Dark himself.

"D-dark! I didn't see—"

"Clearly."

"I was j-just, uh, bringing Wilford up, and—"

Dark rolled his eyes and pushed past the doctor, reaching for the handle.

"Wait!" Dr. Iplier caught Dark's arm, who stilled. Slowly, Dark turned to stare at the doctor. He said nothing, but the ringing grew and his eyes flashed dangerously. Dr. Iplier let go and took a reflexive step back.

"What?" Dark asked through gritted teeth.

Dr. Iplier paused. Get out, his mind screamed at him. He ignored it. "Dark, are you okay?"

"What do you mean?"

"It's been three weeks since anyone's seen you, and well, you were shot—"

Dark's aura cracked, and he muttered something under his breath as he turned the handle. "Leave me the hell alone," he warned over his shoulder, and then the door slammed shut in Dr. Iplier's face.

He let out a breath he didn't realize he had been holding, but he was still on edge. Before the door had shut, he had gotten a glimpse of the room beyond. It was completely torn apart; splintered wood from some type of furniture was scattered in a corner, the bed was overturned, the mirror was broken, and the lamp was laying on the ground. However, there was one thing left untouched. Not only was it intact, it was covered in dust — completely undisturbed. The doctor shut his eyes, trying to remember.

A pipe? No, something else. Long, with a handle…a silver handle. Not a pipe. A cane.

-oOo-

The Jims were an odd pair. They were always out and about, reporting on one thing or another. No one disturbed them — the Jims were best left to their own devices, doing…whatever they did. As a result of their constant absence, their room was more often than not empty. So, the next day, Dr. Iplier found it easy to slip into their shared bedroom when no one was looking.

The oldest egos, huh?

He had reasoned that there was no extracting any helpful or reliable information from the pair, but as they recorded nearly every event remotely interesting in their lives, their tapes might tell a different story. Looking at the boxes upon boxes of VHS tapes spilling out from the open closet, however, Dr. Iplier wished he could go back to his office and drop this entire thing. Groaning, he settled himself onto the floor and pulled a box towards him.

Title after title previewed nothing but useless footage. He pushed aside a saga of sand castle related film to find a tape labeled "JELLY BEANS?!" An entire box told the thrilling tale of buying furniture at IKEA, and another revealed the secret conspiracy of oceans. After an agonizing two hours later, he was still finding nothing. Each title was more stupid than the last: "WRAPPING PAPER FIASCO!", "BOOKS: THE MOVIE", "CRAYON CANON!!", "CORPSE ABDUCTION?", "BIRDS IN TREES!" — wait. Corpse abduction? Since when was there a death? Dr. Iplier picked up a stack of VHS tapes held together by string and reread the first one again. No, that definitely said "corpse abduction". He sat up straighter and turned the stack to see the rest of the titles. They read "SUSPECT WITH A SHOOTY?!", "DEMONS JIM, DEMONS!!" and "DUMMY JIM REENACTS GRISLY SCENE!" This had to be what he was looking for. Excitement flooded through him, and he eagerly undid the string, pulling out the first tape. He stood up (ow, that did not feel good), stepped over his haphazardly made piles, and slid the tape into the TV next to the closet.

The scene opened up on a shot of a manor. Words flashed across the screen: "Breaking News: Markiplier Manor."

Mark has never owned a manor.

Someone was shouting.

"Jim! Jim!" The camera panned to a shot of Jim, gesturing at his the cameraman — his brother. "Jim, come on! I've got the shot!"

When was this made? Even for a VHS, this thing was old. He glanced down at the other tapes in his hand, but the date was either not marked or faded completely. He frowned and went back to watching the TV. A detective had just come into view.

The Jims had been spotted. The detective was now yelling from out of frame. "Hey! Who the hell are you? You listen, this is a crime scene!"

Crime scene? Not only was there a manor that had never been known to exist, but a crime had been committed there?

The Jims were sneaking into the room. The reporter gestured at an outline of a body, and soon after he held up a gun.

"This is profound, in the least," He was saying.

You got that right.

The tape ended in static. The excitement of success was gone, and Dr. Iplier was once again left with more questions than answers.

In went the second tape; except for more of the detective being shown, nothing helpful. In went the third; nothing helpful was in this tape either. He had begun to give up hope when the fourth tape came into view. The Jims were making their way into a room full of evidence. Dr. Iplier fumbled for the remote but finally managed to hit the pause button.

"Don't trust the Seer," he read aloud. The Seer? Who is the Seer?

He continued the tape, starting and stopping to read parts of the scraps of paper littered across the walls and on the desk.

"…safari hunt gone wrong…mayor in legal trouble…" There were (what he guessed to be) names beneath pictures of people, but he couldn't read them. "Fallen movie star…police remain clueless following celebrity death…celebrity actor in cahoots with beloved mayor…" So the movie star — the celebrity — died, and this guy was involved with a corrupt mayor? "…the colonel did it. The colonel did it, the colonel did it, the colonel…"

He should feel excited for knowing more now, shouldn't he? Why, then, did it feel like being in the eye of a storm?

He let his mind wander over the evidence he just been given, the tape falling into static. Dr. Iplier was lost in thought when he heard the pounding of footsteps in the hall.

"We got it, Jim! We got the shot! Jim is going to be so—" Jim skidded to a halt, his brother nearly running straight into him camera-first. "What are you doing here?"

The doctor was about to retort back when he realized this wasn't his own room. "Uh," is what he settled on instead.

"Hey! Those are our tapes!"

"Oh, I was just—" he clumsily hid the ones he was holding behind his back, but he was saved the trouble of finishing his statement by the cameraman gesturing at the other Jim. He was hovering over a half-empty box Dr. Iplier had stopped looking through. Reporter Jim peered over his brother's shoulder. "Jim, look at that!"

The camera was already pointing at the box, so the Jim holding said camera compensated by zooming in further.

"Have you ever seen those tapes before, Jim?" Jim held up his mic to the box as if expecting it to answer.

"Tapes? What tapes?" Dr. Iplier stood and gazed into the box, too. Four tapes stood out from the rest, the black cover contrasting against its white title. The doctor reached in and picked them up. "Who Killed Markiplier?" he spoke aloud. He hadn't seen these before. Why didn't he see these before?

"Hey!" Jim protested. "Those are ours!"

"You just said you had never seen—"

CRASH!

All three of them froze, staring at each other in the tense silence. The silence broke, and Reporter Jim was the first out of the room, followed by his brother with Dr. Iplier close at his heels. They burst into the kitchen together, looking wildly around for the source of the noise. Their eyes locked onto the Host.

He was on the floor, clutching his throat, with Google towering above him.

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[dammit-stark]

Below the Surface

This here is a Hotch x reader requested by anon. It gets pretty angsty in there (a near-death experience), then ends with some, um, making out? So beware. Also, I wanted to address the elephant in the room which is the fact that it’s been so long since I’ve posted anything and all I can say to that is that I’m truly sorry and I’m working on it. For the time being, I hope this satisfies some of your BAU-loving needs. I was really happy with this one and I hope you are too :)

You and Hotch are in a secret relationship where the you can’t swim and when an unsub tries to drown you, Hotch has to save you. Then the team finds out about your relationship.

“Good morning,” You smiled, walking into the kitchen of Hotch’s apartment, “How are my two favorite boys this morning?”

You kissed the top of Jack’s head on your way to Hotch, who tugged on your waist and pressed a kiss to your lips, “There’s pancakes on the counter, babe,”

You smirked, “I knew there was a reason I kept you around.”

Sitting back down at the table next to Hotch, pancakes in hand, Jack was just finishing up his last pancake.

“Put your dish in the sink before you get dressed, bud,” Hotch reminded his son before the young boy could run out. And then you were alone, eating in silence.

Your phone dinged and you laughed when you saw who it was from, “Emily had a wild night last night. Met a guy. I bet she’s never going to talk to him again. She doesn’t even know his name, ha,”

Hotch made a face, “I really did not need to know that about Prentiss.”

You laughed, “Oh, that’s nothing! Last weekend was even worse! She had a whole big adventure. There was lots of drinking and multiple guys and cowboy boots and a spotty trip to Alaska and back that she doesn’t entirely remember. It sounded wild!”

“Oh no, why does she tell you these things!”

“We all tell each other about one-night stands, Emily, JJ, Penelope, and I. Sometimes I wish I could tell them about you, babe. They’d love to hear all about it.” You smirked, letting your hand fall around Hotch’s wrist in the most seductive manner you could manage, “I’d certainly love to brag about you, anyway.”

Hotch scrunched his face even more, an odd combination of being grossed out at the thought of the BAU girls knowing the most intimate details of his sex life and apology over the fact that they couldn’t, “I’m sorry, babe. You have no idea how much I would love to brag about you to the world whenever we’re in public or on the job, but we agreed that it was simpler to keep things private for awhile.”

You smiled back at him, because yeah, you did know that, and anyways you were enjoying things how they were, your little secret. So you told him that, your hand gradually gravitating farther and farther up his arm and across his chest and up and up until you were gripping his tie and pulling him close and kissing Hotch with all your might.

“We’re going to be late for work,” You said, much too late, far too into the kiss, panting.

Hotch paused, grimaced, thought it over, “Do we care?”

You laughed at Hotch because this was how it was supposed to be, just you and him, and that was all that mattered.

At work, morning kisses over pancakes and laughable chats about one-night stands don’t matter. At work, they don’t even exist. All that matters, all that is real, is the formidable unsub, the body count, the job at hand.

But, okay, also, Hotch looked super hot in that suit.

So, yeah, maybe the two of you were making inconspicuous heart eyes at each other from across the table, but that was neither here nor there. Work was the priority, and this unsub was particularly rubbing you the wrong way and the debriefing wasn’t even over yet. It was going to be a long week.

The UnSub’s MO seemed to be that he preyed on adults that couldn’t swim, then drowned them on nearby piers. Hellloooo, can you say issues?

Spencer spouted out some statistic about how more than half of Americans (“Just about 54% if you really wanna know,” he had informed the team) can’t swim. You were part of that statistic, but that didn’t scare you one bit. This unsub didn’t scare you. They never did anymore, just one after the other.

Hotch stared at the board for a long moment after Penelope stopped talking, thinking over every detail she had just told them, his hatred for this cold blooded killer building in his veins.

Hotch’s eyes made contact with yours one final, meaningful time before he nodded, “Wheels up in fifteen.”

“I think I have a lead,” You said, closing the laptop and grabbing your jacket, “I’ll be back.”

“Do you want me to come with you?” Hotch asked, frowning from the doorway.

“No, I don’t think it’s anything, but I’m just going to check it out anyway.”

“Alright,” Hotch said, making that face of his again, the one that kinda looked like he had a million regrets.

“I’ll be at the pier downtown. I have my phone and walkee. Call me if you need me.” You said, heading for the door.

“Wait,” Hotch grabbed your arm. Nobody else was in the room, but Hotch stuck with a meaningful look, “Just be careful.”

You grinned confidently, “Of course, Hotch. Who do you take me for?”

When the wood beneath your feet really started to creak and you got that eerie feeling in the pit of your stomach, that was when the ominous premonition that your lead had been dead-on hit you like a natural disaster.

You were alone and you’d never regretted it more. The unsub was here somewhere, he had to be, you’d bet the world on it, because that beating in your chest, that feeling of a fluttering bird trapped within your ribcage, where bars are bone and all is dark, wasn’t just luck, it was an instinct you had developed over years of hard work, over time and time again of working with predators like this monster. That ominous feeling? It was a gut reaction to what was inevitably going to come next.

You could hear the wind whistling, the footsteps behind you, before you, beside you, somewhere, anywhere, everywhere.

“Mr. McCollough?” You called out into the mist, “I’m with the FBI. I thought I would be able to find you here. Can we talk?”

But you couldn’t see him through the fog, could only feel that the unsub was lurking within one of those shadows, and you clutched your gun a little tighter.

“I just want to talk,” You said, you didn’t really mean it, not at all, and he knew it. Your knuckles were turning white around the charcoal handle of your weapon, and you couldn’t help but think of Hotch and the team back at the police station, safe and pensive and utterly unaware.

You were almost positive that the unsub wouldn’t fall for your trick, wasn’t about to listen to a woman, let alone a woman cop, but you weren’t about to stop trying. You made sure to use all the right trigger words, tried your damnedest to lure him out, hoping to god that  it worked, held onto hope that he didn’t claim you as another one of his victims.

The hope shattered when you felt breath on your neck and a gun at the base of spine.

He growled in your ear, and you shivered as he cackled, guiding you closer and closer to the edge of the pier.

“Brave cop girl can’t swim, can she?” He laughed, gravelly, low, sounding like death and disaster, something like the end of the world, and you hated it, “I saw you. You’re afraid of falling in.”

He laughed again and spat obscenities down your neck, “FBI scum. Worthless bitch.” He used the words fear and afraid like insults that nestled in his hands. 

You heard a voice, so blessedly familiar, and you wanted to fight back, wanted to stab, kick, punch, shoot, anything, but then suddenly the wind was knocked out of you as the unsub landed a hard blow to your stomach. He grabbed you and just threw you straight into the water.

You’re drowning.

You realized with shocking clarity that you couldn’t breathe. You were gulping in seeming gallons of water at a time, and you screamed for help and only got a mouthful of water in return. You dipped beneath the surface again and again, tried to splash or float and only fell. Everything was so terrifyingly dark, oblivions of tiny daggers stinging your eyes and your lungs and you cold even see the moon and the stars above, like a naive illustration in a children’s book, laughably bright against the faceless waters, and you’re so sure this is it.

But then you heard your darling Hotch, and he was yelling, frantic, even as you sank deeper and deeper. There was a gunshot, muffled by distance, followed by a heavy-limbed splash, sort of like fireworks firing in quick succession. Somewhere you heard the sound of a perfect dive into the water, could see a jet of Hotch swimming toward you.

With your head beneath the surface and your eyes closed, Hotch wrapped an arm around your waist and called your name.

There wasn’t enough of you there to reply, all consciousness pulled beneath the water, drowned.

When you woke up again, you were on your back and choking up the entire lake. There were artificial lights blinding you, the LEDs used by the crime scene techs shining in your face.

Hotch and the rest of the team were hovering nervously above you. It was obvious Hotch had just given you mouth to mouth, and with your mental capacities at half-speed and the chaos and the trauma all compounded into one mega detriment, you made a weak joke about kissing and Hotch that fell utterly flat and you forgot within a moment.

Everybody just sat there in silence, huddled protectively around you, until a local cop came in and ruined the moment, in need of the help of the legendary BAU. A medic approached you with a woolen blanket and a demand to check you out and you’re forced to divide from the group.

You felt cold without Hotch by your side. And lonely.

Hotch managed to slip away much later, alone this time.

There was nothing but metal and red and blue as you tucked yourself into an ambulance with him and tried not to think about deep waters and terrifyingly blue oblivions. Hotch settled beside you and pulled you close and you just cried and cried and cried because this was Hotch and you could.

He rested his head on the top of yours, whispered sweet nothings, told you how everything was going to be just fine. Then he kissed the top of your head over and over again, nevermind the lake water, until you felt like you could cry no more and that the wet of your cheeks was more tears than lake water.

You pulled away from him, hands pulling taut on his tear-stained shirt, “Thank you.”

Then you kissed him on the lips, hard, crushing your mouth against his, drinking him in because he’s even sweeter than air. You inched yourself closer and closer until there was no space left and the only thing left to do was to pull yourself into his lap so that you were straddling him. He let out a soft gasp of surprise, but you didn’t stop. No way in hell. You didn’t want to.

“Thank you.” You whispered again

Your fingers wound around the nape of Hotch’s neck and found the tips of his hair as his hands landed on your waist. You pulled him closer as he opened his mouth for you. You felt like crying again, but instead you stuck your tongue down Hotch’s throat, because who needs tears and sadness when you have this man and oh god you’re pretty sure you’re in love with Hotch and that you’re entirely okay with that and also okay trauma and near-death experiences certainly have a way of causing you to readdress your priorities and Hotch is most definitely pretty high up there and-

The mixed sound of an absolutely shocked gasp and an elated giggle forced you to pull away from Hotch, ever-so-slightly. Emily and Spencer were standing at the entrance to the ambulance, looking nothing short of utterly mortified (though Emily looked just as excited as she did horrified) at the frankly scarring sight of you with your tongue down Hotch’s throat.

In that moment, you’re well aware that you really should care a whole lot more about the compromising position that your friends just found you in, but you honestly couldn’t care less. Who cares if they know? Who cares if the world knows?

So instead, you lean into Hotch and laugh.

[peblezq]

Epiphany

PAIRING:

Older!Richie Tozier x Older!Eddie Kaspbrak

DESCRIPTION:

SPOILER ALERT! Do not read this if you haven't read the book “IT” by Stephen King! I don't wanna ruin the end for you if you don't already know how it ends.

This is my own version of the ending of “IT”, but in the movie universe. So basically, this is how I think IT: Chapter 2 (2019) should end… a whole year before it even comes out, lmao

AUTHOR’S NOTE:

Hi! I deleted my fanfiction side-blog because I’m a self-concious moron, so I’m gonna post this on my main blog.

This idea has been floating in my head for a while now, so I wrote it down.

I wanted to write an alternate ending to the novel “IT” by Stephen King, but it’s in the movie universe; so The Losers Club are kids in the 1980s, and adults in the 2010s.

This is a rewrite of the second - and final - battle against Pennywise. I changed a lot of stuff about the battle to fit into the movie universe, however, I kept some references from the book and mini series scattered in here :)

I’m just gonna start right in the middle of the battle scene because there’s no need for me to write the entire book before this, lol.

Sorry if there’s any typos or grammatical errors. I only read through this once before posting, haha.

Story starts below the cut! I hope you guys like it :)

~Pebbs

PART I

The tunnels of the sewer were darker and murkier than they remembered. The rancid stench hit all of their senses like a hundred busses driving on the freeway and hitting a single tree. The blood and bruises on the five remaining losers are just the tip of the iceberg to the pain that they feel. The fear impaled each of them in every way that it possibly could. How did they conquer this thing before? How the hell did they beat IT?

Eddie can feel his lungs collapsing on him like he's left floundering in the ice-cold water of the Atlantic Ocean. He struggles to gasp for air as each loser is preoccupied with their own fear.

Just as Eddie is reaching for his inhaler, he feels a hand grab his with the plastic tube of placebo medication. He looks up, startled, but then quickly eases his tense shoulders as he makes eye contact with none other than Trashmouth Richie.

His brown doe eyes are still prominent and huge, even without his thick frames to magnify them. Blood drips when the corners of his lips lift ever so slightly, revealing a small, but powerful smile. Eddie’s heartbeat thumps so hard that he might have a stroke with the way his blood is flowing through his veins right now. He drops the puffer and folds his hands around Richie’s, returning the smile. All of the losers suddenly notice what's happening, and they all join in, holding hands and suddenly feeling less afraid than before.

The moment is stolen away when Pennywise swipes a large tentacle arm to separate them, throwing each loser to a separate wall in the room. Eddie sees Richie fall on his face, crushing his nose and wailing in pain. He sees his other friends, all grown up and vulnerable as they all scream and groan in pain. He sees his puffer, lying on the cold sewer floor not too far from Pennywise. He frowns, furrowing his eyebrows in concentration as he struggles to crawl over to it. If he thought he couldn't breathe before, he was truly kidding himself. His chest feels like three knives are stuck in various places. One in the back, one in the side, and one close to his heart. As he collapsed on the moist cement, he determined his ribs must be cracked from the sudden impact against the wall.

The gashes on his face start to sting as salty tears roll into them. He pushes himself up, his arms and legs shaking violently as he stumbles to a crouching position. He quickly determines he cannot walk to his desired location fast enough, so he settles for crawling again. He reaches out and grabs the cold, plastic and metal tube with fake medicine, ignoring the fact that the cut on his forearm is coating it in his thick red velvet of blood. Eddie stumbles to his feet, vaguely hearing his friend’s desperate screams for him to stop.

“Eddie!! Watch out!” Beverly croaks out in a hoarse scream. Eddie ducks, stumbling backwards as he does so whilst feeling a rush of air above him before standing up as straight as he can. He notices Pennywise's other arm swoops back in the opposite direction, but he doesn't even flinch. He just glares at the clown as he steps back, avoiding the impact before quickly pulling up his medicine in front of the clown from Hell. Pennywise frowns and starts to charge at Eddie, causing an uproar of screams behind him from his beloved friends.

“It's time to take your meds, asshole!” Eddie belts hoarsely as he squeezes the contents of the medication onto Pennywise's face. The clown stumbles backwards, holding ITs face as it shrieks out in pain. All the losers quiet themselves immediately as IT lowers its hands, revealing half of the clowns face to be melted and burnt. Pennywise sneers at Eddie, its melted mouth drooping as it does so.

Eddie’s sudden adrenaline rush allows him to punch the clown in the face, causing it to fly backwards. Eddie stumbles forward, ready to shoot more medicine on ITs face. Pennywise jumps up, grabbing Eddie as IT slowly grows and shifts into a half spider-mantis-clown nightmare. ITs jaw breaks open, pulling more and more as thousands of rows of sharp teeth reveal themselves to Eddie. The losers start to scream in horror again while Eddie's body goes limp as he catches a glimpse of ITs deadlights at the back of ITs throat.

Ben, Bill and Richie try to help Eddie, but the freeze as they too catch a glimpse of ITs deadlights. Beverly shields her eyes and searches around herself in a panic, trying to find some sort of weapon. The nail-gun that Mike provided them with glimmers in the corner of her eyes, and she quickly stumbles towards it. She picks it up, readies the trigger, and climbs the piping beside the creature. She pushes the end of the gun to its heart and pulls the trigger, causing it to screech out in pain.

The three men on the ground blink and stumble out of their trance whilst IT throws Eddie as it stumbles backwards. Eddie smacks against the cement wall, a loud crack echoes with the impact before he rolls onto the floor. Every loser hurries to his aid, falling on their knees as they gingerly check his pulse.

“Eddie!” Richie cautiously holds Eddie’s face as tears begin to cloud his vision. “Eddie Spaghetti…”

“Don't...call...me...that…” Eddie sputters out, violently coughing up blood to punctuate the end of his sentence. The four remaining losers can't help but smile in this bittersweet moment.

Eddie barely notices the others since his vision is slowly blacking out, only showing Richie’s face in the centre of his pinhole-vision. He attempts to smile at his friend, but it seems to distort Richie’s features, causing him to frown pitifully at Eddie.

“You...looked...better...with...glasses…” Eddie comments.

“And you look like shit,” Richie jokes. “You've seriously seen better days, my friend,” he adds, forcing his lips to form into a faint smile.

“Beep...beep…” Eddie starts coughing again, slightly leaning over to spit his blood away from his friend’s face. Eddie tries another smile, but he knows it looks crooked and forced. He leaves it anyways, willing to spend his remaining energy on this moment.

Richie’s breathing suddenly becomes shallow as the situation sinks in. His hands, still gingerly holding Eddie's face, starts to tremble. He suddenly becomes very aware of his close proximity to Eddie, and to his pounding heartbeat skipping occasionally. His fear builds up, but it's barely for the clown anymore. Richie does not want to lose Eddie. Not again. Not ever.

Richie acts impulsively, knowing that this could very possibly be the last chance he gets to do this. He leans over to close the gap between him and Eddie, locking lips with him. Eddie’s eyes widen for a moment before he gently closes them, leaning into the kiss as best as he can from lying on the ground. Richie smiles into the kiss as he tilts his head to deepen it without hurting Eddie too much.

Ben blinks, completely dumbfounded. He respectfully leans back to not invade their moment. Beverly and Bill lean back as well, but they smile endearingly after the initial shock eases away. Ben’s lips soon tug into a smile moments later.

Richie tastes his and Eddie’s blood in the kiss, but he doesn't care. Richie suddenly feels weak, trembling hands grab onto his hair, pulling him down even more. Eddie suddenly winces in pain, causing Richie to quickly peel away from Eddie.

“Sorry!” Richie blubbered out nervously, feeling like a child again.

“I've… wanted… to do that… for a long… time…” Eddie responded, ignoring Richie’s apology.

Eddie’s eyes started to close, but Richie wasn't having it. “No! No, goddammit, you are not dying on me today!” Richie belted. The three other losers notice Pennywise behind them, sluggishly stumbling towards them for another round.

“Don't…  be… afraid,” Eddie coughs, “and kill… that fucking… clown…” Eddie forces one last smile before letting out a long, slow breath.

“No, Eddie!” Richie yells.

...

“Ed's!” Richie tries again.

...

“Eddie Spaghetti?” Richie’s voice becomes quiet as Eddie doesn't respond. Eddie’s muscles have become slack, and his lips are parted ever so slightly. Richie blinks, and Eddie is thirteen again. His skin is smooth with no sign of ageing wrinkles, and his hair lush and full of life again. Richie is a child again, too. He’s suddenly wearing his glasses, and the sounds of his friends' voices are their voices from their childhood.

“Richie!” Bill yells from behind.

“Richie, its up!”

“It’s coming, Richie!”

Richie can't even decipher whose voice is who anymore as they scream for his help. He cradles Eddie’s face and whispers, “I've always loved you, Ed’s.”

Richie sluggishly stands up and turns around, his eyebrows furrowed and his lips pulled into a thin line. He glares at Pennywise who still has a partially melted face from Eddie’s puffer. ‘Don't be afraid,’ Eddie’s voice echoes in Richie's head as he marches towards the demon clown, filled with anger and determination. The losers are not kids anymore, and they’re here to kill this clown.

“First, you kill Stanley,” Richie’s voice is dark, somewhat startling his friends as he marches in front of them. “Then you almost killed Mike,” Richie leans forward and picks up the axe that he dropped a long time ago. “And then you killed Eddie,” Pennywise tilts its head, smugly raising the un-melted eyebrow. “Now I'm gonna return the favour, asshole!” Richie lifts the axe and swings it, slicing off Pennywise’s arm in one swift motion.

“I'm gonna fucking kill you!” Richie screams as he continues swinging the axe at the clown. Black tar sprays out of each gash and floats up in the air above IT as the shapeshifting alien stumbles backwards. The other losers take swings on the clown themselves with pieces of pipery from the sewer floors, impaling it and smacking it with double the force each time.

They get IT to the ground, not showing mercy as they continue to attack the beast. All of them fight with a fire in their eyes that hasn't been lit since childhood.

Richie slices the chest cavity of Pennywise, barely flinching as its black blood sprays all over him. The four remaining losers drop their weapons and kneel beside the creature. They each claw into the monster, ignoring its shriek of pain as they dig deeper inside of IT. They hear cracking and slurping noises as they bury their hands deeper until they find the large cavity they were looking for. They grab the heart together and rip it out with their bare hands.

They keep pulling as they notice a cord attached to the heart, and they rip it right out, revealing the physical form of ITs deadlights. They throw the heart onto the cement and Ben stomps on it, causing it to burst out its gooey black tar blood.

They stare at it for a while as the children and Bill’s wife slowly float down. Bill hurries to her aid whilst Ben and Beverly head towards Eddie. Richie continues to glare at the corpse of the monster, feeling completely numb.

Suddenly, Ben’s desperate voice cries out, “I feel a pulse!”

PART II

They emerge from the depths of the sewers, squinting as they make contact with daylight. Bill adjusts his unconscious wife over his shoulder whilst Richie does the same with Eddie. They all continue to rush towards their cars and they immediately head to the hospital.

~°*°~

Bill’s wife is fine, but she hasn't spoken a word since the incident. The doctors say that the shock of the traumatic event has silenced her, and they can't tell if she will ever speak again.

News on Eddie hasn't come back yet, and Richie can't stop pacing. All he can think about is every moment in his teens after their summer fighting IT. He remembers how every day, the kids slowly drifted apart from each other. He remembers when Ben moved away, and how they rarely saw Mike since he was homeschooled, and how Stanley made new friends that didn't irritate him as much. Stan did still talk to them from time to time, and he said goodbye at the start of summer when they all moved away for college. Richie didn't go to college, he just moved to Los Angeles and auditioned for many talent agencies until he got accepted. He then auditioned for Saturday Night Live, and the rest is history now.

Richie sits down, nervously shaking his leg as he ponders how different his life could've been if he just picked up the damn phone and called his friends once in a while. The only friend he even saw between graduation and now was Bill. Richie never approached Bill, but he saw him at one or two movie premiers with his actress wife - who may be scarred for life now since she just had to come here instead of listening to Bill’s warnings to steer her away from danger.

‘Such a stubborn lady, but I guess that’s why Bill fell in love with her,’ Richie muses to himself as he rests his chin on his hands. His thighs feel like they might become numb if he keeps the pressure he’s using with his elbows right now. Richie pushes his hands further up his face, covering his features as he groans in pain. ‘I probably should've seen a doctor. Every-fucking-thing hurts.’

Richie starts thinking about his relationships - or rather, lack thereof - throughout his adult life. He dated one girl - an actress he worked on a rom-com with in his twenties - but that lasted for maybe a month because their relationship was too public. They were constantly pestered by paparazzi, and they rarely spent time with each other outside of their press tour. He realized that their relationship wasn't real when the buzz from their movie died down a bit. It was all an accidental publicity stunt on their parts. They parted ways on good terms, and they're still good friends to this day, still working on the odd film with each other now and again.

Richie only ever had hookups after that, and he didn't enjoy any of them. He sighs, realizing that all this time, there was one person he secretly wanted to spend the rest of his life with, but it took a battle with the demon clown from his past to have this epiphany.

‘I'm a grown-ass, middle-aged man, and I just now realized that I was suppressing romantic feelings for my childhood best friend? Fuck that. I am not gay!’ Richie groans again, rubbing circles in his temples and he closes his eyes. ‘I did kiss him though. That's...pretty gay.’

“Hey, you should really see a doctor.” Bev’s voice startles Richie, causing him to sit up and look over at her like a deer caught in headlights. ‘God, I hope I didn't say any of that out loud.’

“No, I'm fine,” Richie snaps. He awkwardly looks away, feeling guilty for snapping at her. “I'll leave the medical resources for the people who actually fucking need it.”

“There are plenty of doctors here, Rich. You're not going to stop anyone from saving Eddie,” Beverly sighs, sitting down beside him. “And you do need a doctor, too. You may not be dying at the moment, but you're clearly in a lot of pain.”

“I don't care,” Richie mutters, slouching as he glares at the opposite wall. “I'm not seeing a doctor until I know that Eddie is okay.”

Beverly sighs again, looking off to the side before looping her arm around Richie and resting her head against his shoulder. Richie glances at her over his shoulder and smiles at the floor. “You're hurting my neck,” Richie mumbles under his breath, his smirk more prominent now.

“I don't care. I'm going to sit here like this with you until we know that Eddie is okay,” Beverly replies with a bittersweet smile.

~°*°~

Richie finishes by tightening his tie. He briefly smiles at himself in the mirror. He turns around when he sees Beverly walk in the reflection behind him. He watches her as she examines him, smiling and patting down his shoulders.

“You look great, Rich,” Beverly compliments with a bashful smile.

“Thanks, Bev.”

She pauses. “They’re all waiting for you outside,” she says with a small smile.

“Yeah, yeah,” Richie takes one last look at himself in the mirror, dusting his suit jacket and adjusting his tie one last time. “I always show up fashionably late to any event.”

“This isn’t just another one of your movie premieres, Rich,” Beverly pouts with a raised eyebrow. Richie sighs, suddenly becoming rather fond of his shoes.

“I hope we all continue to stay in touch after all of this...” Richie’s voice falls, and he clears his throat nervously.

“Me too,” Beverly replies, smiling brightly. Richie faces her, and she pulls him into a tight hug. He holds her just as tightly, suddenly feeling the tears overwhelm him.

“Dammit,” Richie mumbles as he wipes his tears over her shoulder. “Don’t tell anyone I cried.”

Beverly pulls back and wipes the second tear that escaped his eyes. “I promise.” He wipes her escaped tear and they give each other quick smiles before walking out of the room. Richie and Beverly meet Ben, Bill, BIll’s silent wife, and Mike in the hallway outside of the room. They all walk close together into the cathedral, and they meet the gazes of all the people who ever knew Eddie Kaspbrak. They all walk slowly, trying to avoid eye contact with anyone as they head for the front of the church. They try to ignore the whispers of people wondering who they all were and how the losers even knew Eddie. Many of them glared, knowing they must be the old friends he went off to visit - and who they believe caused his demise.

The five remaining losers - plus Bills wife - make it to the open casket. They all look down at Eddie’s features that have been touched up to look presentable. Richie’s eyes are stuck on the cleaned and stitched gash on Eddie’s cheek, remembering the blood no longer oozing from it as Eddie took his final breaths. His eyes then fell to his lips. They’re pale and cracked, and there’s no trace that they were ever coated in his own blood. Richie ponders that Eddie’s lips no longer look as soft as they felt when Eddie was still alive. Richie blinks when he realizes that his own tear hit Eddie’s nose, and he quickly started rubbing at his own face, trying to rid himself of them.

All of the losers joined hands and leaned in around Richie, protecting him like a forcefield. They all loved Eddie, but Richie’s love for Eddie was so much more, and every remaining loser learned that the moment Richie kissed him.

“Why did you have to die?” Was all that Richie was able to croak out that day before his best friend - his soulmate - was buried.

[worldupdatereviews2017-blog]

The way to raise a rock celebrity, by way of Dave Grohl's mum

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The way to raise a rock celebrity, by way of Dave Grohl's mum

Is the hat it want to be the mom of a rock famous person? Is the strongest feeling satisfaction at seeing your infant loved with the aid of a delirious crowd? Or anxiety surrounding the intercourse and tablets that go along with the rock’n���roll? Do renown and money ultimately save the disappointment of getting a teenager drop out of college to mistreat a guitar or drum package in a seedy club? Virginia Grohl, whose son is Dave Grohl of the hugely a hit Foo Warring parties and, earlier than that, Nirvana, determined to find out how her enjoy compared with different women in her scenario: so she met the mothers of Pharrell Williams, Amy Winehouse, Dr. Dre, Mike D of the Beastie Boys and a dozen or so extra to speak approximately life as a “rock mum”.

Within the e-book that has emerged from those conversations, From Cradle to Level, Dave Grohl – or David, as his mom steadfastly calls him – recollects a moment while song took over his lifestyles. He changed into In the back of his mother’s Ford Maverick on a warm summer season day in 1975 whilst Carly Simon’s You’re So Vain got here on the radio. Dave, then aged six, his sister Lisa and Virginia could always sing Within the car; his mom becomes belting it out “above the booming roar of the open home windows”. Then “as Mick Jagger’s unmistakable voice joined the refrain,” Dave writes Within the ebook, “our voices break up into harmony for the first time. My mother commenced making a song Mick’s decrease line as I sang Carly’s excessive lead vocal. Without realizing it … I was harmonizing! My heart lit up … Hell, this was the chicken AND the egg!”

Once I communicate to Virginia at her domestic in L. A. – wherein she lives close to Dave and Lisa – she recollects her son as a boy “so outgoing and talkative; I virtually remember [him] as a child happening an escalator and he’s talking to the humans coming up … He turned into usually truely amusing to be around. He did a few devilish things, but I by no means the idea of him as horrific.” She divorced Dave’s father In the mid-70s and turned into a happy unmarried determine (“a number of us are excellent at it”), even though their house close to Washington DC changed into small and the youngsters argued usually. Dave has reminisced about “Mother making cinnamon toast and sticking shirts In the dryer to warm them up as it was bloodless outdoor”.

Less happy became Dave’s revel in of faculty, which hit his mom in particular hard, as she changed into an instructor. Strolling through her book is the concept that colleges don’t cater well for lively, innovative but non-academic kids. In his early young adults, she tells me, Dave’s existence was “all failure, and doom and gloom – not going to high school, after which getting detention due to the fact he didn’t cross … it became simply deadly”. by this time, he becomes learning to play drums in his bed room, the usage of a chair because of the high-hat and a pillow on the floor as the snare; and turned into without problems selecting up songs on his guitar. The high-school band he turned into playing in had the awful name of Dain Bramage. (Improbably, they performed an old humans’ domestic and sang Time Is On your Aspect.) He changed into also smoking lots of weed: he changed into, he has stated, so stoned at college that “I didn’t realize what I was studying”.

Then Dave, a ferocious drummer, turned into asked by means of the punk band Scream to join them on a tour of Europe. This becomes step-up, and it triggered what his mother calls “the Verbal exchange”, the ceremony-of-passage while schooling is deserted. It didn’t help that she had no concept what 17-yr-antique Dave’s new band became making a song approximately, “because they were just screaming their heads off” – she become “pretty positive they wouldn’t update the Beatles”. and then there had been the “Mohawks! Tattoos! Shredded jeans with more holes than fabric … now not exactly healthful”. however, she wasn’t an ordinary mom; she had helped out with his preceding bands and taken him to jazz golf equipment. “I may want to have said, ‘just pass to school, get your training, have some thing to fall back on. no longer many people make it In the track commercial enterprise.’ but I didn’t.” And Dave went to Europe with Scream.

Only some years later he changed into one in all three members of Nirvana, who, in Virginia’s words, “became the most important sensation in music in a long time. They changed the direction of popular track … my son had emerged as a rock famous person!” She embraced it – it’s perhaps telling that she became a former singer born late enough to realize rock’n’roll in her youngsters – and went to a number of the band’s indicates. “when I used to be teaching,” she has recounted, “I had a senior class and had just come returned from time on the road with Nirvana. I said to the class: ‘I’ve been teaching for 30 years and had all varieties of successes, however, I’ve by no means had a roar.’ Then sooner or later I used to be referred to as out of the room. When I came again, the elegance gave me a roar.”

Her interest as to why she rarely met other rock moms at such indicates and gala’s led to From Cradle to Degree. but having founded an unofficial “unique sorority of mothers of musicians”, she has discovered she is not alone. Marianne Stipe, the mother of REM’s Michael Stipe, went at the band’s ultimate Eu tour, visiting at the excursion bus, and joining the gang earlier than locating a “secure, at ease behind the scenes spot”. Then again, Val Matthews, whose son formed the Dave Matthews Band, gets “highly irritable” while, having been given an amazing seat, the target audience stands up and ruins her view. And sings.

Mike D’s mother, an “imperious” highbrow and art collector who lives in a Long island penthouse and whom Virginia tells me she found “a bit horrifying”, contributed to her model of “the Communique” by way of ruefully commenting that her son’s preferred career preference changed into “just an excuse for no longer running”. She had no hobby Within the Beastie Boys’ hip-hop, but while she went to peer them play, and appeared down from the balcony at the dance-hall ground below, which had “emerge as a mosh pit, a tornadic mass of young, fearless fanatics of chaos”, she became a not likely admirer of the bands indicates, crowd-browsing and all: “To me they weren’t approximately track, but approximately strength and improbable rapport with the target audience.”

Mike D would possibly have grown up with museum-first-rate artwork at the partitions of his condo, but his mom still had to negotiate with their neighbors approximately while he turned into allowed to play drums Inside the nighttime. And she insisted her son, the burgeoning rapper, take cabs, no longer the subway, to stay safe. Mary Weinrib, whose children consist of Geddy Lee of the rock band Rush, agreed on an 8 pm curfew together with her neighbors in Toronto when her son started to deafen them with Eric Clapton chords on his guitar (“me yelling lower back” at authority). Weinrib, whose terrific tale of surviving Auschwitz and Bergen-Belsen Grohl tells, was determined for her son to be a medical doctor, and couldn’t stand his lengthy hair – she deliberate to reduce it off in his sleep. In line with Lee, “It wasn’t till she noticed me on Tv that she realised I was succeeding in something.”

Grohl says that the “bleak days” while younger band contributors or singers “move from city to city with just sufficient cash for warm dogs and Slurpees aren’t what mothers of the musician-adventurers fear”. It’s the “subsequent step, the only wherein cash and fame update impoverished obscurity”. I ask her about Dave’s new-located celeb back Inside the early 90s. “I did fear for women.” Then she laughs: “I don’t know how to inform you this, it’s so embarrassing, however my biggest worry became that Madonna might take hold of him up.” As for capsules, she in no way minded approximately marijuana (“I’m the handiest person I realize who hasn’t done it yet; I nevertheless may”). Anyways, Dave gave up mushrooms and weed elderly 20, and understood enough approximately his hyperactive tendencies by no means to strive cocaine or heroin (“You see the manner I drink espresso!” he has said. “It’d be throughout!”).

“I actually didn’t lose a whole lot of sleep about it,” his mom says. Any situation she did have became sharpened by the properly-publicised heroin dependency of Nirvana’s singer, Kurt Cobain. when Virginia decided to fulfill those rock mothers it changed into Wendy, Kurt’s mom, who was “uppermost in my mind. She turned into the primary ‘rock Mom’ I met”. The 2 girls made pals in The big apple town in 1992, a time whilst the “wave of Nirvana’s reputation was creating” and they were alongside for the journey – staying in fancy inns, being chauffeur-pushed to Television studios, “escorted by admiring young staffers”. Virginia assumed that The two mothers would “do the entirety” for years.

She becomes coaching in her school room while the news broke of Cobain’s suicide: “Someone came in to tell me, and of direction, the youngsters have been reacting. And … it became shocking however I wasn’t amazed. things had been so bad and there were more than one different instances … I used to be concerned about David … dropping a chum in the sort of horrible manner, and losing a career.” however she in no way idea “he could be destroyed by it. He’s such a fine man or woman, and he has suitable stuff pouring out of him.”