#the hair made it till Brussels

[parcequecestnotreprojeeeet]

EUCO - day 1 (Arrival)

(2023/06/29)

[whatdoesshedotothem]

Friday 27 September 1833

7 ¼

1 55

very fine morning F63° at 8 ½ am – at my German and read the Hamburg Reporter of the 24th instant and breakfast till 11 25 - M. Christiani from 11 ¾ to 1 35 lesson 3rd then till 4 writing out the translation of my 2 former lessons, and that of this morning - off to the de Hagemanns’ at 4 ½ no change of dress took Eugenie to do my hair - M. de H- on duty with the king – dinner at 5 ¼ Lady H. and I tête-à-tête – Albinia did her lesson to mamma, and I read the introduction to Henderson’s Iceland 1 vol. 8vo (1804?) very interesting – Read Mallets’ northern antiquities – comte...... appointed to Brussels, came for a few minutes T.T.L. – then to tea M. Nissen who made himself agreeable and staid till I made the move – well informed – so that no idea it was so late – home at 12 – at German till 1 – I already began to be able to translate so that it interests me and I cannot leave the book – very fine day – beautiful moonlight night – F64° at one tonight –

[poptod]

In Death (Josh Washington x Reader)

Description: You take care of him.

Notes: posted this wrong had to correct it here it is Word Count: 1.8k

+

He wasn't weak when they found him. Scared, yes – but not weak. He fought back and he hurt them, but they controlled him, and sent him to the hospital where he was contained for a month. For the better half of that month he was not allowed visitors, not his parents, not his friends, but you visited him anyway. You weren't allowed inside his room, but you stood outside with your face pressed against the glass. He breathed deep when he slept – almost normal, with a Joker-like tear in his grin, teeth like a shark, and blood dripping from the wounds that refused to heal.

He turned to you and did not grow angry. He turned to you and he almost smiled – almost human – and the doctors let you in. So you sat at his bedside, talking nonsense and reading him stories. Unfortunately his condition had fed a sickness to his mind, and though you showed up every day, he did not remember his time in the hospital.

His memory started to work like any other's only when he returned home from the hospital, kept in his room he recognized so easily. No one could tell if it was a conscious recognition or just a comfort in a familiarity he couldn't decipher, but it kept his tantrums and screeching at bay, and the sight of you sitting on his bed was one that calmed his temper. He didn't know why that was.

You spent all your time in his home, growing a fair enough relationship with his parents as you took care of him. Both his mother and father were busy, and as much as they wanted to be there for him, they couldn't fund his medicine and spend time at home. That was where you came in; you moved into the bedroom beside his and you took care of him.

Running the bathwater, you peeked out into his room, where he sat entranced with the poster above his head. A small smile came to you before you turned back to the adjacent bathroom, dropping lavender and honey scents into the steaming water. Once it filled halfway you put in bubble mixture, watching as mountains of it began to appear, stopped only when you turned the faucet off.

"Josh?" You called softly, looking out to find him still staring at the poster. Quietly you made your way to him, taking his hand in yours and pulling gently. "I ran you a bath."

You couldn't tell if he understood your words. No one did, but nonetheless he followed you, a half smile on his face, which was as much as he could do with the scars healing across his cheeks. They were a horrific sight, still gaping and scabbed but you'd grown used to it. 

Sitting him down on the edge of the tub, you raised his arms, pulling his shirt off of him while he looked up at you as though you carved the moon into the sky. He often looked like that around you. You knelt in front of him, helping to pull off his socks and jeans before removing his boxers, all of which you kept in a pile on the floor while you helped him step into the warm water.

Immediately a rough sigh left him, his eyes closing as he sank into the bubbles. Rolling up your sleeves you grabbed a nearby cup, dipping it into the water before pouring it gently over his head, watching carefully for any sign of distaste. Like usual he enjoyed it – you supposed you'd enjoy warmth too if you were stuck in winter mountains for six months.

"Do they hurt much today?" You asked him, your soothing voice always a helper in your interactions.

With a water-soaked hand you cupped his cheek, running your thumb ever so gently over the injuries, helping the biting cold dissipate. He shook his head – a simple no, but when you tried to withdraw your hand he pulled you back, placing your warmth over his scars and melting into your touch.

"I'll need that soon, but alright," you murmured with a quiet giggle, an expression that had him smiling a crooked, broken smile.

Once more you ran water through his hair, letting him keep your hand sandwiched against his cheek (he still hadn't moved his hand away from yours) for another minute or so before moving to the shampoo.

"You're quiet today," you noted in a hum, massaging the shampoo into his scalp in just the right way. You'd gotten a lot of practice.

Like usual, he didn't respond, at least not in words. Despite his appearing to have forgotten english, you kept talking to him like normal – maybe it was laziness on your part, but you liked to believe he could understand you. Eventually he'd gain the consciousness to speak again. After all, he was getting slowly better, and with each passing week he grew more civil.

"Close your eyes," you said, preparing to run water over his sudsy head. He did so, and as your cup spilled warm water down his neck, he hummed pleasantly.

You went slow till you finished up, reaching low into the tub to release the plug. Even though your sleeves were rolled up nearly to your shoulder, you still managed to soak your shirt, bubbles still resting on your chest and stomach. Not that you minded, but you'd have to change shirts to make lunch.

The doctors told you one good meal a day – vegetarian of course, and snacks were allowed throughout the day. You kept to their words, though you could tell it annoyed Josh. He must've missed his old favorite foods quite a lot. If he remembered them.

Stirring the tomato sauce, you eyed Josh sneaking out of his room, making his way over to you. He looked over your shoulder and you could feel his breath, a warmth that only grew when he wrapped his arms around your middle, his chest against your back. Resting his chin on your shoulder, he hummed a tune you couldn't quite identify, pressing his cheek against your neck and jaw. You chuckled.

"Pasta or baguette slices?" You asked, looking to the unopened box of spaghetti and the freshly baked baguette his mother had gotten from a nearby bakery.

Unwinding himself from you he knelt at the counter, coming to eye level with the two objects. After a moment of looking between the two, he reached for the baguette, handing it to you.

"Alright," you said as you took it, offering a smile before he left the kitchen.

You sliced about half the baguette up, setting the pieces on a tray seasoned with olive oil, salt, and a hint of garlic. The tomato sauce would go well on it, and since the sauce already had garlic in it, you didn't need too much for the cooking sheet. With the sauce and the bread boiling and cooking away, you cut up broccoli and brussel sprouts. Those soon went into a pan, before being seasoned with olive oil and jalapeno slices. Fresh vegetables always took a shorter time to cook, though Josh liked them a little overcooked, which was a little harder for you to enjoy. Still, you found comfort in the routine, always happy to help him.

When you finished you called Josh over, who quickly jumped over the couch and rushed to your side, looking over the food with a hungry look. To be fair, he usually looked hungry. You helped him load food onto his own plate before getting your own, joining him on the couch, where you pulled up Hatari on the television. A classic.

He couldn't sit through the whole movie, so at the midway point you paused, taking care of the dishes before joining him in his room. For the most part he stayed up there, and this time was no different as you found him lying on his bed. In his hands he held an ADHD fidgeting toy covered in scratches from his claws which, to your surprise, were fading at the same pace of his scars. No one expected them to go away, but it was a pleasant revelation.

"I brought cookies. You know, the ones I made a couple days ago," you said, climbing onto the bed with him and placing the cookie box between you. "There aren't any more heart shaped ones, though. Sorry. I only made three of those."

One for his mother, one for his father, and one for him.

Scooting across the sheets, he leaned against you, his posture much lower than yours to the point where his head was almost in your lap. You placed your arm over his head, resting your hand on his shoulder and tracing tiny shapes on his shirt.

"We'll need to go take your medicine soon," you reminded him softly, something that had him burying his face deeper into your waist. "You can sleep for now, though."

He loved touching you, that much was obvious to anyone who observed your interactions for more than a minute. Something in his mind told him you were safe – you couldn't be more thankful for that little memory, as faint as it was.

He never said your name. He didn't always recognize your voice if you called from another room. When he had nightmares, he didn't realize it was you waking him up unless you turned on the lights. But sometimes, he tried to sing to you. Weird, yes, and according to his friends and family he never sang before the incident, but it was sweet, and... lonely. There weren't any words, and despite that it still put an ache in your heart. Other times he tried to massage you, but you couldn't bear him doing that for very long, what with his claws. He clung to you when you sat beside him, especially in bed – he'd wrap his arms around your waist or chest, slinging his legs over the lower half of your body till there wasn't even a chance of escape. Over everything, you found it endearing. His parents found it embarrassing.

He didn't remember when you first spoke. He didn't remember driving you to the outskirts of town just to ask you on a date – he didn't remember you saying yes, and he didn't remember how you made him banana bread when he mentioned that he liked it. He didn't remember that you kissed him, and he didn't remember kissing back.

He didn't remember anything to do with you or any of his friends, or really any part of his life.

No, he didn't remember you, but he recognized you.

Only you.

And to him, when you murmured 'I love you' into his ear, you were all that existed.

[butterbuni]

♥ Prologue ♥

Prologue of Disguise, a Kaminari x Fem Reader

"Hello my dear viewers! Thank you for joining my stream. If your new here thanks for coming. If your one of my regulars welcome back, you know the drill." I looked up at my left monitor watching the numbers of watchers rise as well as the number of donations.

"We are just waiting for one more guest! LightningMcSpark101 he is always late." I rolled my eyes playfully knowing he would be watching the video later when I upload it. My discord rang and I quickly answered it, "Dude you are so late!! The viewers were waiting!" I said into my mic.

"Aw man, I was so sure I was on time this time!" I heard him say from the other end. "Alright alright, all is forgiven! Hurry up and let's get this started. I only have 2 hours today!"

"Sure thing dude! I am so beating you this time!"

"In your dreams Sparky!"

"It's on G/N (Gamertag name)"

I smirked at my screen and took hold of my controller pressing play on the newest battle game that I was sent to try and review.

The screen lit up as it announced my ultimate victory. "Haha! In your face Sparky!! I win once again!"

"Awe man!!! I was so sure I was going to win this time!! You defeated me dude how is that even possible!!!" he exclaimed from his end.

"Ha, you thought. Thanks for helping me show off this game!" I looked over to my left monitor and saw my view had only gained as well as the occasional donation, "I hope you guys enjoyed my demonstration as much as I did! Make sure to go out and buy this amazing game! It's a lot of fun to play especially with friends maybe one of you may get lucky and I would play with you next time. Unfortunately, it is time for me to log off however same time next week. What do you say Sparky?"

"You bet!"

"Bye guys!" I said as I waved goodbye with one hand and clicked end stream. I let out a sigh of relief. That was so much fun. "Sparky you do not know how much fun that was!"

"I am so glad you let me try it out with you! Hey, when are you going to let me see your face you always wear that face mask. I only see half of you!"

"I will let you see my face when pigs fly!" I said scratching the side of my face avoiding not wanting to give him a straight answer. He asks this every single time we go on live together. "Plus it's not like I've seen your face either for all I know you are a 40-year-old man, but you don't sound a day over 15," I said cheerfully.

"Oh wow thanks." he said sarcastically, "I would show you my sexy awesome face but I don't think you would be able to resist me."

"Ha, you wi-"

The alarm on my phone went off stopping all conversation, "Oop looks like my time has come! See ya later dude!" I said quickly changing tabs to end our call. "Aw, c'mon just a little longer. I'll promise I'll be good."

"Sorry, sparky you know the drill I really need to go now," I said hastily wanting... no needing to end the call.

I heard him sigh from the other end. My cursor hovered over the end call button impatiently. My eyes kept darting to my bedroom door. He was taking too long and I didn't want to end without saying goodbye

"I'll catch ya next time G/N. Next time I promise to beat you in whatever game we play."

"Don't hold your breath," I laughed and clicked the end call button. Once it ended, I quickly tore off my face mask and took off my headset. I pulled out a medium-sized box from beneath my desk and put both of them in.

I quickly took out the game cd and put it back into its packaging. I pulled out a bigger box from beneath my desk that had various other games I've collected and put the game in. I sighed, "I wish I didn't have to live like this." Almost as soon as I closed both boxes and put them away, there was a knock on my door.

Fuck. Already?

"One moment!" I called out. Why why why now. I went into my walk-in closet and quickly changed into clothes that my parents deemed suitable for walking around the house. There was another knock at the door, "I'm coming!" I fixed my hair and opened the door quickly revealing my butler. He wore a simple black and white suit with a handkerchief hanging off his arm and as usual his gray hair was slicked back.

"Hello Bertrum," I said standing up as straight as possible.

"Hello ma'am your parents are waiting for you downstairs. Dinner today is coffee-rubbed steak with brussels sprout salad." He bowed down to me.

Great just my luck. I rolled my eyes just before Bertrum rose from his position. "How wonderful I will be down in a second."

He nodded and went on his way. I shut my door closed once he left. With my back against the wall, I slide down to the ground. I wish we could have normal food for one. I would kill for a hamburger right about now.

I got up from the floor and dusted myself off. I might as well get this over with. The sooner I get there the sooner I can leave.

I walked over to my vanity mirror making sure all my 'imperfections' were perfect in the eyes of my parents.

Once I felt ready I walked out of my bedroom making sure to be extra slow about it. I walked through the halls of our family portraits and statues. I've walked this same path for years and each time I still don't feel like I belong.

Every single one of the pictures had a family member who did something great with their lives. Some went on to be some of the greatest support items manufactures. Some became politicians. Some even became costume developers. But here I was, some random teenager who just happened to be born in a family with everything.

I walked down our spiral stairs my hand running down the banister. Well, everything except parents with the capability of love and care.

I walked into the family dining room to see the long table completely dressed in fancy dishes. Both my mom and dad weren't looking at each other. Mother was typing away at something on her laptop and Father was talking to someone on the phone.

I don't even know why they require me here anymore when they wouldn't even pay attention to me.

"Hello Mother. Hello Father." I said flatly announcing myself in. "Hello Y/N," they said without even glancing at me.

I sighed. Of course, they wouldn't even look at me. I am sure they have even forgotten how I looked considering I don't even remember the last time they looked at me for more than 10 seconds.

I took my seat at the far end of the table to wait for the maids to deliver the food.

The dining hall instantly fell into silence with nothing but the clacking of Mother's keyboard and the low gruff talking of Father on his phone. It was unbearable.

Mother finally spoke to me as the maids came into the room with our dinner.

"We have decided where you will be going for high school." She spoke, "With your quirk, we decided that you will go to U.A and join their support course."

"But mother I was planning on becoming a hero like the rest of my friends," I spoke up as a maid dropped my dish in front of me.

She scoffed at me, "I can see why the Todoroki family would want their son to be in the hero course but I don't know why the Yaoyorozu family would let their daughter partake in such a trivial career."

"Mother heroes have a lot of importance in our society! Without them, the world would spiral into chaos. Plus the support course won't even have people to sell their inventions."

"Support for quirks will always be in business with or without the heroes. The heroes are the cause of chaos. They refuse to properly dispose of villains, making our society go into a cycle of a hero-catching villain only for the villain to escape and wreak more havoc. If they would make an example of one of those good for nothing bastards, the people in our society wouldn't have the nerve to stand against heroes."

"But Mother that is such a horrible-" I started to say looking at Mother in disbelief.

"I know you are not talking back to me right now!" she raised her voice at me slamming her fork down on the table.

"No Mother," I said looking down at the plate of food.

"Good."

It was silent once again. Father didn't even bother trying to come to my side and I didn't even bother standing up for myself.

I've learned the hard way that when something is asked of me, I have to do it. Or else.

I picked up my fork and picked at my food. I wasn't even that hungry plus it wasn't like brussel sprouts and steak were very appealing.

"Aren't you eating Y/N?," Father said turning off his phone and picking up his own fork to eat. He only said that to me so he could still pretend to be that caring father he once was in his only little fantasies.

"I just don't have the appetite right now," I said dejectedly. "You should eat your food. Do you know how many kids are starving?" Mother said.

"Maybe you should feed them this nasty stuff," I mumbled.

"I didn't quite hear what you said. Could you repeat that for me?" Mother's eyebrow twitched as she gripped the fork in her hand tightly. I didn't think she could hear me. "I just think we should distribute our wealth to help people less fortunate. People could stop going home hungry," I said dropping my fork down. If she wanted to talk about starving people we can talk about starving people.

"It is not our fault that they made bad choices in their lifetime and ended up poor. Why should we share what we worked hard to get." She said not sparing a glance at me.

I rolled my eyes once she paid more attention to her food than me. Every time I try to have this conversation with her she shuts me down with her hypocritical ass. I stared at her as she ate her food. Who is she to talk about hard work when she worked her way up into my father's pants. The only hard thing she's probably ever done up till now was picking a way how to seduce him.

After a considerable amount of time of pushing my food around my plate the maids came and whisked away our plates. I gave them my thanks. Mother and Father however just picked up their laptop and phones and excused themselves from the table leaving me by my lonesome.

I sighed. Welcome to the life of L/N Y/N.

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

Once my parents were out of sight I rushed up the stairs and past the halls filled with everything my family wanted me to be and into my bedroom. The one place in this house that I felt comfortable. The one place in this big mansion that felt like home.

I locked the bedroom door and quickly logged into my computer. I looked at the number of donations I received from today's stream. I let out a yell of excitement seeing the 2000$ on the screen. A whole 500 more than last time.

I could do more with this money. I pulled up a list of local poverty fundraisers. If Mother and Father won't do anything, I will.

I donated the money equally between the topmost trusted charities. As soon as I clicked the submit button for each I felt satisfied. Even if it wasn't much, the money I made off my twitch account was what kept me motivated to keep going. People out there were suffering and people like my parents were sitting down and letting it happen when they could be doing something about it.

I've thought about wiring money from my parents' accounts but I'll just get myself in trouble so two years ago I started live streaming. When I started earning money from it, I realized I could be making a difference with it.

I sighed as I leaned back in my chair. Two years ago I wouldn't have dreamed of going against my parents' wishes but here I am. Created my own monitors from scratch with the help of my quirk and Momo making the parts. I let out a sad laugh. I even went as far as to covering half my face just so I won't be recognized by anyone.

Just as I spun in my chair looking at my ceiling, my phone buzzed on my table. My head perked up looking at it. Who could be texting me at this time?

I picked up my phone seeing it was a discord notification from Sparky. I smiled softly at my phone. It's like he always knew when I was down in the dumps. I may not know who he is behind that screen but he has quickly become my best friend. ~~~~ Y/N Character Sheet 

[joyful-soul-collector]

Questions about me

Thank you to @nazezdha321 for “tagging” me (more of a “if you see this and wanna play you should situation but shshshssssshhhhh it looked fun ok)

1. what is the color of your hairbrush?

Blue, like my hair

2. name a food you never eat

Brussel sprouts and tomatoes. Just, no. 

3. are you typical too warm or too cold?

Too cold, always and all the time, I need like 3 blankts on me at all times to make it through winter and two the rest of the year. All of this is while wearing pants and a sweater.

4. what were you doing 45 minutes ago?

Talking to a friend online, still doing that haha

5. what’s your favorite candy bar?

I love chocolate tbh, probably something like kit kats? Plain chocolate is great too though

6. have you ever been to professional sports event?

Nope

7. what is the last thing you said out loud?

“Ok I’m gonna head to my room, have fun guys!” My sister’s boyfriend is here, they’re watching a movie together in the livingroom. 

8. what is your favorite ice cream?

Hmmm, I really love chocolate. There’s a place in my town that has a kind with brownie bits and fudge swirled in, it’s amazing, I love that one

9. what was the last thing you had to drink?

Some water, it’s in a cup next to me haha

10. do you like your wallet?

Eh it’s alright, I mean it works. It’s a bit too big, I gotta get a smaller one, but it’s alright!

11. what is the last thing you ate?

Some tortilla soup for dinner

12. did you buy any new clothes last weekend?

Nope, I haven’t bought new clothes since summer, and even then it was like two shirts. 

13. what’s the last sporting event you watched?

I don’t even remember, I haven’t watched sports in years. I don’t care for them and neither does my family, so we don’t watch them

14. what is your favorite flavor of popcorn?

I love super buttery popcorn. And this isn’t really a flavor, but I love it with chocolate drizzled on top

15. who is the last person you send text message to?

Uhhh I sent a message to @baloobird on discord? But I haven’t texted using like, my phone number in a looong time

16. ever been camping?

Nope, unless you count out in the backyard

17. do you take vitamins?

No, I haven’t for a while, we haven’t bought any since like YEARS ago

18. do you regularly attend a place of worship?

Nope

19. do you have a tan?

Not anymore, haven’t been outside very often at all. 

20. do you prefer chinese or pizza?

Pizzaaaaaaa

21. do you drink your soda through a straw?

Yeah but just because we only buy it when we go out to eat, and they always give you soda in a cup with a straw. I haven’t drank from a can in forever, we never buy them. 

22. what color socks you usually wear?

Black. I have some fluffy socks that are red and white, but I only wear them in Christmas time

23. do you ever drive above the speed limit?

Yeah but only by a few miles at most

24. what terrifies you?

The idea of old bullies coming back somehow, the idea of my family being hurt somehow, and never being able to make and keep good friends for longer than a couple years. Those are a few that I know off the top of my head. 

25. look to your left, what do you see?

My teddy bear I keep on my bed for my bad anxiety days. He’s very huggable

26. what chore do you hate the most?

Hmm. I don’t like doing the dishes for sure, I have to do that every day, or sometimes every other day if there’s not many to do. Don’t like laundry or shoveling the driveway when it snows either

27. what do you think when you hear australian accent?

The movie Rescuers Down Under

28. what’s your favorite soda?

Sprite. I don’t drink soda very much, i can’t remember the last time I had something OTHER than Sprite

29. do you go in a fast food place or just hit drive through?

Usually drive thru, we don’t like eating in places, even before the pandemic haha

30. what’s your favorite number?

24. No idea why, I’ve just been attached ever since I was little. When I was like 3-4 I would answer all math questions, mainly grown-ups asking me “what’s 2+2?” with 24. No clue why. 

31. who’s the last person you talked to?

Online would be @baloobird, irl would be my family at dinner a little while ago

32. favorite meal?

Fettucine Alfredo... god my stomach’s rumbling just thinking about it haha, I haven’t eaten in a couple hours

33. last song you listed to?

Crumbs by Belaganas. It’s the only song by them I have on my playlist because @tracle0 recommended it to me. It reminds us of my OC Tatum. 

34. last book you read?

Reread a bit of my favorite comic called Saga

35. favorite day of the week?

Saturdays, i usually get some time to myself then. I didn’t get that this Saturday though, too much work it spilled out into the weekend, but I did get a little today. 

36. can you say alphabet backwards?

Nope haha

37. how do you like your coffee?

So sweet it barely even tastes like coffee. 

38. favorite pair of shoes?

My mismatching red and blue converse with black laces. 

39. time you normally get up?

7:30am

40. what do you prefer, sunrise or sunset?

Sunrise. Everything is quiet and you’re still a little sleepy and it’s probably a bit cold if you’re on the beach, and that’s perfect. 

41. how many blankets on your bed?

Three because I’m a touch-starved bag of twigs that’s constantly cold.

42. describe your kitchen plates.

Some are blue and are made of plastic, some are white and made of ceramic or glass or whatever cheap plates are made of. 

43. describe your kitchen at the moment.

Lots of cabinets, an old toaster oven and a stand up mixer in the corner, window over a deep sink, next to that a dishwasher. Counters are a brown marbley kind that make it impossible to tell if it’s dirty or not. 

44. do you have a favorite alcoholic drink?

Not old enough to drink, nope

45. do you play cards?

Eh? My family likes 3-13 and Egyptian war, but board games are our favorite. 

46. what color is your car?

We have two, both every very old. One is a red little one, the other is a tan minivan. 

47. can you change a tire?

Nope, should probably learn to do that at some point

48. your favorite state or province?

I... don’t know. I’ve moved around quite a bit, live in different parts of CA, lived up in WA, now I live in PA. I’d say WA because it feels like I can relate to a lot of people there, like WA people are my kinda people ya know? And it’s so beautiful and has just so many things I love in it... But that’s also where most of my bullies were. So every time I think about it it always has that shadow because I was miserable half the time. But PA isn’t my favorite because the people here are so different from me, and CA isn’t my favorite because my extended family lives there and they’re Very Not Cool. I’ve had bullies in both those places as well too, but not as bad as WA. So uh... I don’t know, I suppose. 

49. favorite job you’ve had?

Never had a job unfortunately, my parents said I couldn’t get one till after High School cuz they wanted me to focus on school, and then, halfway through my senior year, a pandemic happened. Yay Class Of 2020! Anyway, I haven’t gotten a job because if I don’t need it, I don’t want to get one and potentially but myself, my family, and other people at risk, even though having the extra money would be nice. 

Tagging: @tracle0 @baloobird @jelly-pies @silver-bubbles @mysterycheerio @shadedrose01 and everyone else who wants to do it! Feel free to tag me and say I tagged you haha

[kumeko]

A/N: For the Summer Lovin’ zine, where I wanted to do a light, fluffy, summer romance. With bonus Steph and Tim teasing Damian (as is their right) and Cassandra helping out where she could.

…

…

…

…

Endless fields of unripe wheat. A cloudless blue sky stretching as far as the eye can see. The occasional house poking out of an otherwise flat terrain. Damian stared outside the car window and clicked his tongue. No wonder his father had declined to come; there were no shadows here to hide in, only light.

 “What’s the matter?” Stephanie asked, an impish smile on her face as she poked his cheek. “Bored?”

 “Of course not.” He swatted her hand away but that only made her laugh. “We shouldn’t be here.”

 “Why?” From the driver’s seat, Tim glanced at him in the rear-view mirror. If Stephanie’s smile was teasing, his smirk was downright malicious. “Scared you’ll have fun?”

 Damian crossed his arms. He would never for the life of him understand what his father saw in that fake Robin. No, it went deeper than that—what did he see in most of his proteges? Stephanie didn’t take anything seriously, Tim didn’t have the skills, Dick was too fun-loving, and Jason had no control. The only not disappointing one in the bunch was Cassandra, and Damian feared that one day the others would infect her as well. He should have gotten rid of them while he had the chance. “We should be training, Drake,” Damian replied, irritation leaking into his voice.

“An important part of training is taking breaks.” Stephanie poked his cheek again. He was going to break her finger one day. “It’s summer, school’s out, and Bruce and Dick have Gotham covered. We can have a little vacation, the world’s not going to destroy itself without us.”

 “Without you, maybe,” Damian sneered. The effect was ruined as she pulled his cheek.

 “Without us,” she repeated, still sporting that insufferable smile. “If it’s serious, they’ll call us. It’s not like the League doesn’t know where the Kent farmhouse is.”

 Damian wasn’t sure if that was a good thing. Surely the most dangerous man in the planet should have his parents hidden somewhere secure, instead of having their name on file. Villains broke into the JLA all the time as it was; it wouldn’t be that long before someone stumbled upon this badly kept secret.

 “You’re wasting your breath, Steph.” Tim shrugged, his eyes on the road. “He doesn’t know what a break is.”

 From the front passenger seat, Cassandra gave Damian a sympathetic smile. She had been silent till now, more than content to just listen. Which was probably why he preferred her to the others; she wasn’t a blabbermouth like the others. “A break can help your body recover,” she offered.

 At least that was practical advice for once. Damian leaned back in his seat. “I suppose.”

 “You’re such a softie to her and Dick.” Stephanie leaned back into her seat, finally leaving him alone.

 “It’s too bad Dick couldn’t come,” Tim sighed. “He could have muzzled the brat.”

 “Well, while we’re meeting our favourite aliens, he’s got his own alien to meet.” Stephanie waggled her brows before she and Tim burst into a fit of laughter. Leaning forward, she rested a hand on Cass’s shoulders. “Don’t worry, I’ll share mine with you.”

 “Okay?” Looking confused, Cassandra nodded.

 “And Damian’s got Jon,” Tim chimed in, exchanging a look with Steph.

 Wisely, Damian kept his mouth shut. With these two, almost any response he gave would only be ammo.

 -x-

 “Damian!”

 He barely had time to turn around before Jon barreled into him, knocking him over. Landing flat on his back, Damian grunted as his breath rushed out of him. Jon had little restraint in the best of times, and almost none when he was emotional. Frowning at the mop of dark hair on his chest, he rolled his friend off. “Kent.”

 “Kent,” Tim and Steph said at the same time and he didn’t have to see them to know they were wearing identical smiles.

 “Damian!” Pushing himself off the ground, Jon shot him a grumpy look.

 Quietly, Damian muttered, “Fine, Jon.”

 The idiot duo cackled behind him and he wasn’t sure if Jon’s bright smile was worth it. Picking himself off the ground, Damian didn’t bother to dust off his clothes before hauling Jon up. “Where’s my room?” he asked, dragging Jon along as he headed to the main house. “And please tell me those two are sleeping in the barn.”

 “Nah, they’ll be rooming with Conner and Kara, just like you’ll be with me.” Jon wrapped an arm around his back, almost skipping as they headed in. “It’ll be fun!”

 Fun. That wasn’t the word he’d use for it. Perhaps he could at least sabotage their beds after this.

 -x-

 Balancing a dagger between his two fingers, Damian studied the target. It was perhaps one of the simplest targets he’d practiced with, a static bale of hay only 50 yards down. A single red x made of cardboard sat on the bale. There was no challenge in this. Still, some practice was better than none. Raising his hand behind him, Damian whipped his arm forward and tossed the dagger.

 With a solid thwack, the dagger hit the target dead center.

 As expected. Child’s play, really.

 As though to cut into his preening, Jon applauded behind him. “Wow,” he cheered, his voice deadpan. “That was amazing.” Sarcasm dripped from his words as he hovered over the ground, giving Damian the most bored look possible.

 “There’s nothing else here to use,” Damian sniped back, not appreciating the reaction. It figured this was the place the Supers called home, this land of sunlight. The Kents owned few weapons, if one could call them that. A shotgun, several farming tools, and an oddly sharp kitchen knife were their defenses of choice. Miraculously, no supervillains had dared to take over this quaint town, and he could only chalk it up to luck. Probably the same luck that allowed all the Supers to fly without a single neighbour to report them.

 Not finished, Jon leaned forward, shielding his eyes with a hand. Fake squinting, he studied the target. “That’s, what, ten in a row? All in the same spot, somehow?” The scorn disappeared from his tone and Jon gave him a thumbs up. “That’s actually really cool.”

 Cool was again not a word Damian would use but he accepted the compliment. “If I couldn’t do that much, I’d hang up my cape.”

 “Right, right.” Jon landed on the ground next to him, clapping him on the back. “And you’re doing ten more of these?”

 “I need to keep up the practice,” Damian muttered, distracted by the tingling in his back. It had been happening recently, at Jon’s point of contact, and he wondered if it was some uncontrolled Kyptonian strength running through his flesh. “Even if the practice is subpar.”

 “Of course.” There was a mischievous twinkle in Jon’s eyes. “But you’re just going to get the same result. And it’s boring.”

 Rankled, Damian pulled away. “Practice is not—”

 “There’s more fun ways to practice instead.” Jon pounced, tackling him to the ground. “Let’s fight.”

 Well, that was certainly something Damian could get behind. Flipping them over, he smirked. “You’re on.”

 -x-

 “So, Damian, was it?” Ma Kent smiled at him kindly as she exited the kitchen. The smell of cooked chicken wafted through the air, filling the dining room. In her hands was a bright, flowery plastic bowl filled with Brussel sprouts. “I heard a lot about you.”

 Damian stared at her. The dining room was empty save for them—the others hadn’t yet come back from whatever wasteful endeavours they had planned and Jon was feeding Krypto. While he had begrudgingly accepted the fact that he’d have to eat dinner with everyone, there had better not be any expectations of conversation. He had planned to let Jon do all the talking, to cover up his silence, but that wasn’t possible right now. When Ma Kent smiled at him, he reluctantly replied, “I see.”

 “Ahaha, got a way with words, I see.” Chuckling, she set down the bowl. A bowl that did not match any of plates. Actually, now that he was paying attention, none of the big serving bowls matched, all of them hideous plastic monstrosities. Noticing his scornful expression, she rubbed her neck sheepishly. “I know what you’re thinking. I used to use my good china whenever someone came, but after two dinner attacks and one food fight, I’ve learned my lesson. If the powers are out, my plates stay in.”

 “I see.” Not that he had asked for clarifications. Not that he was curious in any way, shape, or form about it.

 “You really do have only one mode.” Laughing, she returned to the kitchen. “Like father, like son. Glad the rest of your lot didn’t turn out like this; don’t think I could have handled that much grumpiness at my table.”

 “I’m not grumpy,” he muttered under his breath.

 “Man, Krypto was hungry tonight!” Jon tumbled in through the window, ecstatic. Catching Damian’s expression, he cocked his head. “What, did I miss anything?”

 Resisting the urge to cross his arms (because he wasn’t grumpy, he was stoic), Damian gave him a surly look. “Nothing.”

 Ma Kent chuckled again. “Nothing, hun. Now make sure to wash those hands.”

-x-

 The stars were bright here. Sprawled on the roof, Damian leaned back and studied the night sky above him. Without Gotham’s pollution, the milky way was visible for once. Stars glittered above him, taking advantage of the moonless night. He had almost forgotten what the night sky could look like, what it had those nights long ago when he lived in the desert, training under his mother’s watchful eye.

 An almost silent presence approached him and Damian discretely reached into his pocket for a dagger. The stranger’s hand touched his, stilling it, and he looked up to find Cassandra Cain. She offered him a smile. “It is silent here,” she murmured, sitting down beside him.

 “I suppose.” Damian glanced at her, then at the fields below. It looked like a dark sea, threatening to swallow them whole. An owl hooted, crickets chirped, and all in all, it was far quieter here than it was in the city. Just when had he gotten used to the never-ending honking? Even the smell here was different. The farm felt clean.

 “It is,” she corrected, hugging her knees. She closed her eyes, listening. “It is…not bad to relax.”

 Not bad, perhaps, but not good either. Not when there were lives at stake in Gotham. Damian wouldn’t call himself a hero, not by any stretch of the word, but Gotham was Batman’s. Gotham was his and he was loathe to let its citizens die when they under his protection. “Isn’t it?”

 “No.” Cassandra closed her eyes. Words were hard for her, action easier—perhaps one of the things he respected so much about her. When she spoke, her words meant something, they were considered and honest. “Relaxing…you can recover. Recharge. See things differently.” Opening her eyes now, she smiled at him, a waxing moon. “See what you are protecting.”

 Damian stared. He was too late; Cassandra had been infected by the others. “I don’t need to see—”

 “Damian!” Before he could finish his sentence, Jon floated down beside him. Dressed in bright blue pjs his mother had to have bought for him, Jon landed on his right. “What’re you doing up here alone?”

 “Alone?” Damian looked at his left once more. Empty. Cassandra was gone. Even if her brain had rotted, her skills remained, and he didn’t know whether to be impressed or irritated at himself. Turning back to Jon, he shrugged. “Reflecting.”

 “Reflecting on what?” Jon raised a brow before asking. “Wait, is this one of those bat-broods Dad was talking about? How you guys all go to a corner at some point or another and just sulk?”

 Speechless, Damian gaped, his jaw hanging loose. Of all the things he expected to hear, that wasn’t one of them. That wasn’t even on his least likely list.

 “I mean, I can’t picture Steph sulking, but maybe she wasn’t Robin long enough to get the broods.” Jon sat down next to him, bumping shoulders. “Or maybe you took all of them?”

 “I’m not sulking,” Damian growled, resisting the urge to hurl Jon off the roof. Not that it would do any good, he’d just fly back and be twice as mocking about it. What was it with the Kents and their presumptions?

 “Then what?” Jon’s eyes lit up and he hit his fist on his empty palm, as though he’d solved a case. “Stargazing?”

 It was as good an explanation as any. Better, actually, than his own, considering he had none. “Sure.”

 “Prepare to be amazed!” Jon pointed up, a wide smile on his face. “A city boy like you, you haven’t seen half of these stars before.”

 “City boy?” Damian scoffed. “You’re not much better.”

 “I’ve been in the country plenty of times,” Jon retorted, his mood still bright. It was like sitting next to the sun. “Besides, I can fly. Dad’s takes me up all the time to see the stars.”

 A very frivolous waste of power. No wonder Bruce worried about this family.

 “Anyways, see that star over there?” Jon leaned closer, wrapping an arm around Damian’s back to bring him closer. “So that’s part of the big dipper.”

 Of all the stars to start with, the big dipper? Really? Damian didn’t know if he should be insulted or not. It wasn’t like he was much of a ‘city boy’ himself; growing up in the desert, his mother made sure he could navigate just as easily at night as he did the day.

 He could say he had the best tutors, that he knew every constellation by heart.

 He could say that Jon was pointing at the wrong dipper, he meant the one slightly below it.

 Damian could say any or all of those things, but for once in his life he kept quiet. Jon was smiling and he didn’t always have to prove he was the smartest person in the room.

 -x-

 “So, any bets?” Steph asked, shielding her eyes as she leaned back and squinted at the sky. Despite the intense July heat, she stood away from the shade. Above them, small specks in the bright sky, were Conner, Kara, and Jon. They raced through the air, sometimes coming low enough to hear their laughter, other times they were barely visible.

 “On what?” Tim asked. Like her, he was staring up at the sky. Unlike her, he was smart enough to stay next to the barn and the meager relief it provided. Perhaps he did have a modicum of intelligence after all.

 Not that Damian would applaud him. Using a handful of pebbles, Damian started flicking them at distant targets, smirking when they hit with a satisfying thwink. Perhaps Jon could hide his training dummies and Tim could hide his weapons, but they couldn’t force him to be idle the entire time he was here. Glancing at Cassandra, who was sitting nonchalantly on the ground next to him, a pleased smile on her face, Damian was perplexed. How could she handle this?

 “The next Super. Like, it’s obvious that Cass is the next Batman, but I dunno about them.” Ignoring Damian’s glare, she finally strolled into the shade. She leaned against the barn door and crossed her arms. “It’s between Conner and Jon.”

 “So Kara’s not interested?” Tim stroked his chin thoughtfully. After humming for a few minutes, he turned to Cassandra and asked, “Who’d you rather work with?”

 Unable to handle the indignancy anymore, Damian barked, “I’m the next Batman.”

 “Sure.” Stephanie rested a hand on her hip, giving him a pitying look. “Whatever makes you feel better.”

 “Go easy on him, it’s not easy to find out that he’ll be Robin forever.” Tim shook his head sadly. “All of that time, all of mommy’s promises that’d he’d get the job, it must be crushing.”

 “What?” he squawked.

 “He couldn’t even accept that Cass is Bruce’s favourite.” Coming over, Stephanie squeezed his shoulder. “And then there’s Dick—you’re maybe third? Maybe?”

 Picking a pebble out of his hand, Cassandra flicked it at the bushes. A bird shot out of it, startled. “Either of them…are fine,” she answered slowly. “Conner, then Jon?”

 Et tu, Brutus? Damian turned to Cassandra as she tossed yet another pebble with pinpoint accuracy. He should have realized earlier that they were all after his job, that there was no one here he could trust.

 “Ah, Conner takes it on for a little before giving it to Jon.” Stephanie nodded sagely. “True, that’s also in the running.” Her hair fell in front of her as a flyby occurred and she quickly pushed back her golden locks. “You know Jon actually hangs out with them?” Wrapping an arm around Damian’s shoulder, she bemoaned, “Why can’t our baby be so friendly?”

 “It would be…weird,” Cassandra pointed out, getting up now. She patted him on the back. “He is…different.”

 “Who is?” Kara landed on the ground, her hair looking like a wild nest. It seemed being Kryptonian didn’t protect them entirely from physics.

 “Damian, but you already knew that.” Stephanie retreated before he could attack her. “What’s up?”

 Kara glared at him before smiling at Stephanie. “A race! We’ll each pick one of you up and see who can fly the fastest. So, Steph or Cass?”

 “Cass!” Stephanie volunteered, leaning against Cassandra. “I’ve had plenty of flights. It’s a sacrifice, but someone has to do it.”

 “Sacrifice.” Tim rolled his eyes. “You just don’t want to mess your hair.”

 “Both things can be true.” She stuck her tongue out.

 By now, Jon and Conner had landed as well, standing next to Damian and Tim respectively. Conner smirked cockily. “We’ve got this in the bag.”

 “Yeah, we did this every day in the Teen Titans.” Tim high-fived Conner. “It’ll be too easy.”

 “Oh, just you wait and see!” Kara stood next to Cassandra, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “I’ve practiced.”

 “We’ll win!” Jon declared, grabbing Damian’s hand. Leaning closer, he whispered, “And no matter what, you’re my Batman.”

 “Huh?” Damian tried to look at Jon but before he could, he was already in the air and the race had started.

 On that day, Damian discovered that his stomach was both stronger and weaker than he’d expected.  

 -x-

 At nine pm, it was dark. Dark in a different way than Gotham got—for all the narrow alleys and forgotten warehouses, it was never truly devoid of light. Whether it was a flickering streetlamp or the semi-blocked lights of an office, there was light somewhere.

 Here, though, in the middle of nowhere, it was pitch dark. Damian could just make out Jon’s figure sitting next to him. The others, still sitting near the barbeque a short distance away, were impossible to see. The only thing visible were the stars above, as disgustingly bright as ever. Somehow, the sky never turned truly dark, a thing he had forgotten. It had been too long since he’d been in the desert, since he’d left the city behind.

 “I’m glad you came.” Even without looking, he knew Jon was smiling. He was always smiling, always moving, always something, like his face didn’t know how not express his emotions, like his body would combust if he stayed still.

 Damian didn’t bother to reply. Leaning forward on the dock edge, he skimmed his shoe against the still waters, watching the dark ripples warp the galaxy below. The only thing rivalling the stars were the fireflies drifting lazily nearby, yellow spots against the black.

 Unfazed (and Damian didn’t want to think about when that happened, about when Jon stopped getting angry at his silence and just accepted it), Jon rested his hand on Damian’s, threading their fingers together. It was an oddly intimate sensation. Damian didn’t mind it for some reason. “It’s a lot more fun when you’re around. I wish you didn’t have to leave tomorrow.”

 This time, Jon’s stare was expectant. Damian glanced at him, then back at the fireflies. “It wasn’t a complete waste,” he muttered, a half-truth. Perhaps there was something to vacations, but he loathed to admit it.

 Jon laughed, seeing through him. “Knew you’d like it here.”

 Feeling a little prickly, Damian glared at him. “Don’t act like you know—”

 “But I’m right, aren’t I?” When Damian didn’t say anything, Jon leaned closer. “I know you.”

 Before Damian could react, Jon’s lips were on his cheek, a warm pressure that was all too temporarily. His jaw fell slack. His skin burned. For once, his words failed him and he felt like a simpleton.

 “If I knew that’d shut you up, I’d have done it ages ago.” Jon smirked, looking playful.

 “Jon!” Pa Kent yelled. “We’re making smores.”

 “Save me some chocolate!”

 And just like that, Jon leaped to his feet, dashing away, and Damian still didn’t know what to say.

 -x-

 The roof was empty when he sat on it. Cassandra wasn’t there to give advice. Jon wasn’t there, laughing as he strung together stars like they were the pearls, creating tapestries on the sky above. There was just complete and utter silence, just as Damian preferred.

 While his skin had cooled down, his heart hadn’t, and he tried to meditate. Crossing his legs, he emptied his mind. Jon’s lips had been soft. He emptied his mind. His hand was rough. He emptied his mind. Jon—

 And maybe he had been wrong before; it was too late for himself. He’d been infected by all these damnable people around him, to the point he had actually considered asking Tim Drake of all people for advice. Friendship, family, love—

 It was too late. He had all of them and as loathe as he was to let them in, he was even worse about letting them go.

 -x-

 “So.” The confident Jon of yesterday was gone, leaving a more nervous boy in its wake. He was constantly fidgeting, his eyes darting all over like he didn’t know where to look. Judging by the bags under his eyes, he probably hadn’t slept.

 Good. He deserved a little suffering for leaving like that, for forcing Damian to think about his feelings. “So?” he drawled out, relishing in the little flinch Jon gave.

 They were standing in front of the Kent’s house, in the cool morning air. For the first time in two weeks, the sun wasn’t beating down on him and Damian couldn’t wait to return to the air conditioning of the Wayne manor. Already, the others were packing up the car, leaving only him and Jon to say their goodbyes.

 Or, well, whatever it was that Jon was trying to say. Damian tapped his foot on the ground, raising a brow when Jon didn’t say anything.

 “See you later?” Jon managed weakly.

 Sighing, Damian tossed him a bone. “Even a stopped clock is right twice. This vacation wasn’t terrible, I’m not adverse to doing it again. However, we are making this up with double the amount of work when we get back.”

 Jon blinked. “You still want to be partners?”

 Damian nodded. “Yes, I thought you had superhearing?”

 “And the other thing?” Jon asked, stepping closer.

 It took all of Damian’s willpower to not step back, not even when Jon was close enough to touch, to kiss. Feeling a familiar flush on the back of his neck, he coughed and looked away. “That…that was fine too.”

 “Really?” Jon’s voice was filled with an earnest hope and Damian’s stomach flip-flopped.

 “Don’t make me repeat it,” Damian growled, feeling uncharacteristically flustered.

 “Damian!” That was the only warning he got before Jon’s arms were around him once more, his lips pressed against his own. Behind him, he heard a bag drop and of all the people to bear witness to this, it had to be the morons in his family.

 It was hard to pay attention to both them and Jon, to the pure joy that radiated off his—Damian didn’t know what to call Jon anymore. Friend didn’t feel appropriate. Whatever it was, he’d figure it out later, when they were alone and they didn’t have the peanut gallery around. Gingerly, he wrapped an arm around Jon, pulling him closer. When they finally parted to take a breath, he glared at Jon. “Did you have to do it in front of them?”

 “That’s your first response?” Jon grinned, leaning close to kiss him on the nose. Reluctantly letting go, Jon stepped back. “See you in a week.”

 “Like I’m letting you off the hook that easily,” Damian grumbled, pretty sure his entire face was red now. While he took after his mother, his brown skin could only hide so much, and unfortunately his carmates eyes were sharper than most.

 Ignoring the stares, he marched to the car and plunked himself into the front passenger seat. He was not going to deal with Stephanie’s teasing a second time around, not when she had more ammo. At least Drake would have to keep his eyes on the road.

 -x-

 The entire car ride back was filled with Tim and Stephanie singing, “Damian and Jon, sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G.”

 Damian had never been more tempted to kill.

[betweenthetimeandsound]

Three Minutes to Eternity: My ESC 250 (#230-221)

#230: Dschinghis Khan -- Dschinghis Khan (Germany 1979)

"Die Hufe ihrer Pferde, die peitschten im Sand Sie trugen Angst und Schrecken in jedes Land Und weder Blitz noch Donner hielt sie auf"

"The hoofs of their horses, they lashed in the sand They carried fear and horror in every country And neither flash nor thunder stopped them"

One of my favorite songs to jam to is Boney M's "Rasputin". A disco-influenced song about the life of "Russia's greatest love machine", it's energetic while telling that of a myth. I mention this because Dschinghis Khan is compared to this often, in all the ways.

Only this time, it's about the great conqueror Chinghis Khan, who took over the whole universe (and lasted for a very long time). From how he struck fear across the steppe to fathering seven children in one night, he is seen as the embodiment of masculinity.

While entertaining, sometimes I'm put off by the gimmickry. It can be argued that it wouldn't age that well today, because it can be seen as culturally appropriative or mocking Mongolian culture. But for what it's worth, it's enjoyable and still a classic today.

Personal and actual ranking: 4th/19 in Jerusalem

#229: Louisa Baïleche -- Monts et Merveilles (France 2003)

“Oh, mon amour Où es-tu, mon amour?” “Oh, my love Where are you, my love?”

A definite case of love at first listen for me—Monts et Merveilles is a calming ballad, albeit with sad lyrics about the end of a relationship. The instrumentation is quite nice; it reminds me of songs that stood out on the charts during that time. It also had the "ethnic style" percussion in the bridge, which made me think that France Televisions wanted to mix what worked in the last two years (ballads) with the ethnic sounds from the 1990s (as Louisa is half Kablye, an Algerian ethnic group)

Despite it, it got a pretty low result—though it may be because 2003 was a stronger year songwise compared to the two years that came before it. Or it maybe because of the hair getting into her face that took away from the experience...

Personal ranking: 5th/26 Actual ranking: 18th/26 in Riga

#228: Hakol Over Habibi -- Halayla (Israel 1981)

"הלילה, הלילה, יהיה זה הלילה נאמר דברים שלא אמרנו מעולם"

"Tonight, tonight, it will be the night We’ll say things we’ve never said before"

On a random note, whenever I would search up Idan Raichel's "Hakol Over", Hakol Over Habibi would be one of the first search items that pop up. I would completely ignore it until now, when they actually participated in Eurovision!

That said, Halayla is very groovy song which plays with the disco vibe of the 1970s and the highly energetic choreography that would define 1980s Israeli Eurovision entries. The instrumentation is quite awesome, with the mix of piano, strings, and I think accordion setting up the vibe. (And it switches well from minor to major and back again , which can go awry when done wrong).

The members seem to have a ball on stage, and Kikki looks beautiful in her dress, which was fitted that way because she was pregnant at the time!

Personal ranking: 5th/20 (though it jumps around often...) Actual ranking: 7th/20 in Dublin

#227: Wind -- Laß die Sonne in dein Herz (Germany 1987)

"Manchmal bist du traurig und weißt nicht warum Tausend kleine Kleinigkeiten machen dich ganz stumm Du hast fast vergessen wie das ist, ein Mensch zu sein Doch du bist nicht allein"

"Sometimes you feel sad and you don’t know why Thousands of little reasons are making you dumb You nearly forgot what it’s like to be a human being But you are not alone"

Wind has the interesting distinction of participating three times and coming in second twice out of those three. The first one, "Fur Alle" was seen as such as a big contender that there were bets made against it winning. And then it didn't.

Laß die Sonne in dein Herz didn't come that close to winning in 1987, but I can argue it's the better song of the the three.

It catches you right away with the reggae influences, which creates a relaxed vibe throughout the song. It builds up well with every key change--it does get repetitive at times (especially with the choruses), but never boring. And while it shares a similar theme to Fur Alle, it doesn't come off as either derivative or charitys-single like.

(That said, I did grow to like Fur Alle eventually, but this one was more instantaneous.)

Personal ranking: 7th/22 Actual ranking: 2nd/22 in Brussels

#226: Charlotte Perrelli -- Hero (Sweden 2008)

“This is a story of love and compassion Only heroes can tell.”

The better Charlotte song, in my opinion. The song she won with, “Take Me to Your Heaven” is a complete vintage track, almost influenced by ABBA-nostalgia going on at the time. “Hero” , while still on the same schlager vein, modernizes the production a little bit, to the point I imagine it would be a good pop song of that era.

Alongside that, Hero has some compelling lyrics, one which could summarize the hero's journey in general. I wouldn't be surprised if somebody were to write a Eurovision jukebox musical, they would use this in some format.

That may be the case on why l like it better, but it could also be because it should’ve done better in the contest. The fact the jury wildcard saved Charlotte is a reason why they're around, but the fact there was a wildcard which kicked out the actual tenth placer (North Macedonia's Let Me Love You) could be totally flawed too.

Personal ranking: 6th/43 Actual ranking: =18th/25 (with France) in Belgrade

#225: Carlos Paião -- Playback (Portugal 1981)

“Podes não saber cantar nem sequer assobiar, Com certeza que não vais desafinar, Em play-back, em play-back, em play-back,”

“Maybe you don't know how to sing or even how to whistle But you won't sing out of tune for sure, In playback, in playback, in playback”

This is so modern and infectious it’s unbelievable. From the introduction to Carlos’ biting lyrics to the choreography, it makes one wonder why it got neglected in the voting. 1981 was a strong year, sure, but this song is definitely one of the best of that field.

Playback, as the title suggests, is about the pervasiveness of lip-synching in the music industry. One day, nobody will have to learn how to sing because the playback will save them. They can all focus on the performance without taking note of the song.

It's eerily relevant to Eurovision today, considering we don't use live music anymore and backing vocals can be mimed. I have mixed feelings about the latter, because one side argues it allows different genres of music to appear, but the other argues it reduces artistic credibility. I prefer having live vocals; if a delegation wants to use them on the track (e.g. looping), it should be on a case-by-case basis.

Maybe that's why it somehow made the ESC250 the last two years...

Personal ranking: 4th/20 Actual ranking: =18th/20 (with Turkey) in Dublin

#224: Emma -- La mia città (Italy 2014)

“E dimmi se c’è davvero una meta O dovrò correre per la felicità”

“And tell me if there really is a destination Or I have to run for happiness”

The black sheep of Italy’s post-comeback output, and coincidentally the only song completely chosen internally. That being said, La mia citta is still a good song, and for me it’s better than some of the fan-favorites out there.

Admittedly, I prefer the punchy verses to the chorus, with the latter reminding me of something out of P!nk's discography, but I revel on Emma’s energy and her letter to the city of Rome. We have struggles about the place we are from, but still try to sing its praises when we can!

The staging was a bit tacky at times, but I did like the aesthetics of it—particularly her laurel wreath. Her costume had a good concept also, but is also overdone it in terms of the bejeweled top.

(As for the Sanremo winner that year, Contravento, it feels like a bit of a grower. The clarinet intro really takes one in, but there has to be a whimsical, sweet staging to accompany the hopeful song. Had they done so, a left-side finish would've waited for them)

Personal ranking: 6th/37 Actual ranking: 21st/26 in Copenhagen

#223: Brigitta -- Open Your Heart (Iceland 2003)

“Everything you share with me Turns a little darkness into light And that is how we’re meant to be Truth will keep the light shining brighter”

Also known as, the woman who originally came from Husavik! The difference is that Birgitta was the lead singer of the group Irafar. Open Your Heart reminds me of songs that end up on DCOM (Disney Channel Original Movie) soundtracks—it can actually work in the end, but also in the beginning to introduce the characters and/or their circumstances. The random running order really helped it with being first, haha! Beyond that, it's an optimistic song, helped with the guitar influences which ground it in the era. Plus, the production and lyrics add to this feel, encouraging even the shiest to open up their feelings. Also, I like the flowery aesthetic that Birgitta has, from one in her hair to the larger one (which I think is real?) on her microphone. Personal ranking: 4th/26 Actual ranking: 8th/26 in Riga

#222: Tomas Ledlin -- Just nu! (Sweden 1980)

“Han vill dra iväg, kanske ner till Paris Och hitta äventyret på något vis Inte sitta här på stans konditori Och låta tankarna, bara fladdra förbi” “He wants to go away, perhaps down to Paris And find adventure somehow And not just sitting here at the local café Just letting the thoughts flutter by” The 1980s saw the genre New Wave come to vogue, and Just Nu was a valiant attempt on the genre, especially considering the direction Eurovision would go later. From the opening notes, I got the punkish notes from the instrumentation, and the lyrics definitely add to the feeling of being free from societal expectations, crying out "right now"! (which is funny, because I learned Romanian at one point and nu means no in the language. So I keep thinking it's "just no!" against conformity) Tomas also shows quite the attitude on stage--he just struts into the stage with a boyish charm and kickstarts the song. With his looks and usage of the microphone stand, he portrays this rebellious character well, though the orchestration could’ve been improved with the strings and flute. Personal ranking: 2nd/19 Actual ranking: 10th/19 in Den Haag

#221: Lea Sirk -- Hvala, ne! (Slovenia 2018)

“Moje ime je Lea in/Za vas imam nov lik!” “My name is Lea/ And I have a new character for you!”

I love the opening lines for this song—it immediately sets the tone and has a strong statement alongside it. She's Lea, and she won't let anything down on She asserts that she can’t be sold out, and has a great attitude to accompany the trap beat, which reminds me of a K-pop song for some reason. The staging fits the song to a T--though it didn't need any changes from the NF, haha. As for the fake break, I don't have any strong opinions on it, but it definitely kept up interest for the song. A nicer touch was the Portuguese line in the end. Either way, it was a surprise qualifier in its semi that year, and it was one surprise that I greatly welcomed. Hvala da!

Personal ranking: 8th/43 Actual ranking: 22nd/26 GF in Lisbon

[nkp1981]

Christmas and New Year Eve 2025/2026

They had all agreed on to meet and celebrate New Year’s Eve in Prague.

Joe and Nicky had arrived around Christmas, where they used the opportunity to be a couple on Christmas vacation to the fullest by eating good food, visiting their old stomping grounds, going down the narrow streets hand in hand being like silly teenagers, who had been left home alone and spending plenty of time in the bed.

As they walked down The Charles Bridge the clock struck twelve, they decided to take a break and looked out on the Vltava. “Merry Christmas, Habibi!” Joe said in Arabic and took Nicky’s hand, which he started to caress. “Merry Christmas, Mi Amore!” He replied in Italic with a smile and leaned into his shoulder. ”I got something for you!” Joe said and took out a bag of figs from his pocket together with some honey. “You incurable romantic.” Nicky replied with a big smile, when he saw the figs. “Remember our first Christmas as friends back in the small inn in Alexandria?" Joe wanted to know. "Yeah, we talked all night even though I'm not sure we understood each other completely since we still were trying to understand each other." Nicky replied with a laughter in his voice. "I think it was that night, I fell in love with you, because I had never seen anyone eat figs like you did with such a delight, so I thought that it was a good idea to do it again.” Joe admitted and handed him a fig. “It is, but how can me eating figs like a wild man be the reason why you fell in love with me?” Nicky wanted to know and tilted his head. It was something he did when he wanted an answer from Joe. “You looked lovely, but it also had to do with that I probably for the first time in my life could be myself without anyone telling me what to be instead of what I wanted to be!” Joe replied and took the last fig in the bag. “I felt the same way that night and I’m so grateful, that the feeling hasn’t disappeared that we still are together and still have time left in the world.” Nicky said and took the fig, he was handed. “You look just like in the inn!” Joe said laughing when fruit juice started to run down Nicky’s face. “Thanks! So, how did you get it through the custom?” Nicky wanted to know. “Well, I just used the concierge service, but I have to say, he didn’t listen when I ordered them.” Joe replied a bit disappointed that the figs were not as ripe as he had wished for. “Doesn’t matter. It is the thought that counts, and I appreciate it!” Nicky said and gave him a kiss on the cheek before he handed him a packet. “This is excellent craftsmanship, that I’ve seen in centuries. Where on earth did you find it?” Joe wanted to know when he saw the dagger and started to examine it closely. “I’m not telling!” Nicky replied with a secret smile. “Just wait till we get back to the hotel, then I’ll get the information out of you!” Joe said as he pulled Nicky in for a kiss. “Then you better put in an effort, because as you know, I’m not easy to get any information out of!” Nicky replied in a teasing tone and gave him another smile before he started to walk again. “Oh, there will be no doubts about that!” Joe said as he took his hand once again, while they talked on the way back to the hotel.   

Andy and Nile didn’t have the same quiet Christmas as Joe and Nicky had. They had been on a mission to take out an Ukrainian arms dealer, who in a desperate attempt to get out of the warehouse had fired a rocket launcher at them, which made Nile throw herself over Andy to shield her, while the rocket flew over the head of them hitting some parked cars behind them. “Told you to stay back at the hotel!” Nile said as she sat up and looked at cars, who were burning. “And miss out of all the fun? I haven’t had this much fun in years!” Andy replied sarcastically and reloaded her gun. “We two have very different definitions of fun and besides I think the boys prefer to see us both in one piece instead of a million!” Nile said and looked towards the arms dealer, who was running for his cars. “You may have a point there. Can you hit him?” Andy wanted to know and looked towards the man. “I don’t have Nicky’s rifle skills, but if you can deal with the big one over there, I may have an idea. Wait for my signal.” Nile suggested and Andy nodded, so when Nile went to the left, Andy waited and when Nile made the signal, they both hit their targets at the same time.

“I could really use a cold beer!” Andy said, when Nile sat down next to her. “Me too, so Merry Christmas!” Nile replied, when the bells could be heard in the distance. “Merry Christmas. Let’s get out of here and find that beer before the police show up. I don’t feel like talking to them or spending the night in a cell.” Andy said and the women walked in the other direction away from the police.

They found a small pub who still had open and sat down in a corner with their cold beer. “I have to say that the Europeans make better beer than the Americans.” Nile concluded and looked out on the snow that had started to fall. “Nah, the best beer in the world, you get in Thailand. I’ll show you one day.” Andy promised with a smile. “I’ll keep you to that promise, Andy. I can’t believe it has been two years since we last saw the boys.” Nile said and drank her beer before making a sign to the waitress to bring another round. “They are still the same. That’s the good thing about them, but I think that when we have celebrated New Year’s Eve, you should talk with Nicky about getting some more sniper training. He is the best teacher.” Andy suggested and took another beer. “It has been on my mind, but I’m also thankful for all the training, you have given me, Andy!” Nile replied in a grateful tone and found the cards in her pocket. “Don’t mention it, kid, but you do know, that you are gonna lose all your money, right?” Andy said and took the cards. “One day I will win it all back.” Nile replied in an optimistic tone.

When the women left the pub in the morning, Nile got a text from Joe. “The boys wish us a Merry Christmas and have reserved hotel rooms for us, but what does he mean with that I shouldn’t let you alone with the dynamite?” Nile wanted to know. “I might one time have blown up a hotel room, when I tripped over a box with dynamite and accidentally had a candle in the hands.” Andy replied and shook her head over that Joe had promised not to mention it again. “Seriously? What was a box of dynamite even doing in the hotel room in the first place?” Nile wanted to know. “Joe and I had picked the box up for a job and while we were waiting for the rest to show up, we started to drink some Turkish homebrew, we found it in the cupboard. We might have gotten a bit drunk, and when we heard noises, well one thing leads to another thing and the rest, you can guess.” Andy explained and made a mental note to have a talk with Joe about gossiping.

A couple of days later the women finally found the bar, Joe had told them about.

“Andy? Nile?” Nicky shouted from the stage and started to wave excitedly over seeing them. “Is he drunk?” Nile asked, when Nicky returned to signing. “He decided to start celebrating New Year’s Eve, when Samoa went into the New Year!” Joe explained and shook his head, before he hugged them. “He is your choice not mine.” Andy said, when she hugged him again. “I know it and I’m not even sorry.” Joe replied with a smile and looked at Nicky while making a sign that he should join them. “How long have you been bald?” Nile wanted to know. “Sadly, I’m not immune against lice. When we saved a couple of children, they all had lice and what was worse, but they are safe now, which is all that matters. My hair will grow out again.” Joe explained and caught Nicky, who tripped over his legs and landed in his arms laughing. “Seems like I keep on falling for you!” Nicky said in a cheesy tone and patted Joe’s cheek gently with a smile before kissing him. “As I said your choice.” Andy repeated and started to distribute the drinks between them. They talked for hours and drank even more. “I promised Nile to take her to Thailand, where you get the best beer in the world.” Andy said, when she took another beer. “That is not correct, Andy. The best beer in the world you get in Ireland, and I will show you.” Nicky said, but when he reached out for another beer, he fell off his chair and ended up on the floor laughing. “I better help him with finding a bed.” Joe said and offered Nicky a hand, who somehow had rolled over on his stomach and looked at the karaoke machine. “No, you have slaughtered enough ABBA for one night. So, I’m gonna give you the same choice, I did in the desert a long time ago: walk or I will carry you.” Joe said in a commanding tone, which did the trick. “See you tomorrow.” Andy said as the last thing, before they parted for the night. “Should we find another party?” Nile wanted to know, and Andy nodded. Before they ventured out into the night.

When they returned to the hotel room Joe helped Nicky down in a chair, so he could take off Nicky’s boots, before he kicked off his own boots. Then he went into the other room to remove the duvet from the bed, when a pair of familiar strong arms wrapped around his waist from behind pulling him near Nicky. They stood like this a bit, before Nicky turned Joe around, so he could look at him. “Remember when you danced with me in the bombed-out bar in Brussels right after the war?” Nicky asks and lays his forehead against his shoulder, brown hair brushing Joe’s nose. Nicky then takes Joe’s right hand in his left and presses closer to his neck, the scratch of his stubble making Joe close his eyes, letting memories wash over him. “You had found an old record player under the bar, who barely could play the record. You smiled, when you heard the lyrics of the song and we danced to it, even though I’m a terrible dancer,” Nicky said and Joe was ready to protest, but Nicky placed two fingers on his lips and he stayed quiet, lost in the depths of his blue eyes and the kiss that followed. “Can we do that again?” Nicky begged, and Joe didn't even blink. “Of course.” Joe finds the song on his phone and presses play, taking Nicky’s hand in his reverently, Nicky’s body fitting perfectly against his as they begin swaying lazily, two hearts beating in sync. when they reach the chorus, Nicky whispers in his ear in Arabic, “Yusuf, you make me the happiest man alive, Habibi.” And they share another kiss as the sun rises.

my creation

[toomuchofabastard]

Heaven’s Final Betrayal (5/6)

[ << CHAPTER 1 ] [ < CHAPTER 4 ]

Fandom: Good Omens (TV)

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Aftermath of Rape/Non-Con, Mentions of Dissociation

Word count: 3,726 (total 19,201)

Fic Summary: It was obvious that Heaven wouldn’t exactly be thrilled about Aziraphale’s role in preventing Armageddon. But neither the angel nor Crowley could have predicted how far they were willing to go to get revenge, and now Aziraphale needs him by his side more than ever.

READ ON AO3

___

Madame Tracy contemplated the saucepan full of Brussels sprouts.

Then she rapped her fingers against the side of the pan and glanced at the clock again. 2:46 pm. Mr. Aziraphale would be arriving at around a quarter past three. What to do?

She still made sure to boil up some Brussels before every séance, finding that no potpourri or expensive aromatherapy oils could create an atmosphere of safety and reassurance for the type she entertained quite like the familiar scent of vegetables that had been left on the stove too long.

But that was her regular - well, human - clients. Would it work on an actual, literal angel? Aziraphale reminded her of some of her (now ex-)clients in ways, although she could think of several key reasons why he would never be interested in the services she’d offered them, beyond the cup of tea. And a cup of tea and a chat was exactly what she’d promised. She wondered again what she Aziraphale might be needing to talk to her about. Crowley had made it sound pretty serious when they’d first arranged this afternoon together.

She’d been in the Oxfam shop just off Tottenham Court Road, browsing through some second-hand purses, when the bell over the door had rung and a damp and surly-looking young man had entered. She instantly recognised the copper-red hair, not to mention the serpentine tattoo on the side of his face, the monochromatic clothing, and the curious propensity to wear sunglasses even on a rainy day.

Crowley hadn’t noticed her at first, striding straight up to the till and shoving a hefty tome at the surprised teenager behind it with a brusque “Here.”

“Oh, um, thank you! Is this to donate?” they asked.

“Yeah, yeah, it is,” Crowley had responded distractedly, running a hand through the back of his hair, and eyeing up the door already. Madame Tracy wandered over as the cashier started to input something into their till.

“Do you qualify for Gift Aid?” they asked Crowley.

Crowley turned back and snorted, seeming amused. “No, I don’t pay taxes,” he explained, as though it should be obvious. That didn’t surprise Madame Tracy one bit. He was a demon, after all. Tax evasion was probably the least sinister activity he got up to.

Crowley made to leave and Madame Tracy rushed to catch his attention before he was gone. “Crowley, love, is that you?” she called out.

He swung round, looking a little startled, but then clearly recognised her after a few seconds. “Oh. Hey,” he said, awkwardly waving a hand. He paused, then asked “You alright?”

“Very well, thank you,” she replied, stepping closer. She noted out of the corner of her eye as the cashier picked up the old book Crowley had donated with a puzzled look on their face and started to type its details into their computer. “Me and Mr. S are still looking for a place in the country. Nothing yet, but with the market being what it is at the moment, we’ll probably have to be patient,” she said.

“…Right,” responded Crowley blankly. His vacant expression made it clear to Madame Tracy that he had no idea who she was talking about. Come on, demon, she thought. You’ve only known him since the sixties.

“Of course, he’s retired from the old Witchfinding now,” she led on. “Fancied he might take up firearms restoration, or maybe lock-picking.” She watched Crowley’s face closely. He remained hopelessly blank for another few seconds, and then suddenly she saw a light ping on in his eyes.

“Right, right, yeah,” he said hurriedly. “The sergeant. ‘Cos you’re together now, aren’t you?” he said. She thought she could detect a faint patina of red spreading across his cheeks.

“Exactly,” she said. She smiled widely and kindly at him, and decided to take mercy and change the subject. “And how are you and Mr. Aziraphale doing?” she asked.

Immediately, she saw that it hadn’t been a good avenue of conversation to pursue. Crowley’s face darkened and his eyes became hard and troubled. He ran his tongue across his teeth for a second, appearing to weigh something up in his head.

“Yeah, not so great,” he eventually replied, voice low and jaw tight.

“Oh, dear,” Madame Tracy remarked uncertainly. “What’s wrong?”

“…Something happened,” Crowley sighed, and ruffled the back of his hair again. “He’s not… doing very well with it.”

Suddenly, the spark of an idea seemed to light up the demon’s harried face. “Actually,” he said, “I’ve been thinking; he needs someone to talk to about it - someone who’s not me - and, well, if he’s up for it, could you maybe…?”

Madame Tracy understood what he was getting at, and thought about it. She liked the angel. They saw eye-to-eye on the important things, like the fundamental problem with designating people as wholly Good or wholly Evil, and whether you should put the milk or the tea in first. And he’d been gracious enough to forgive Mr. Shadwell for exploding him and accidentally burning down his bookshop, citing impending Armageddon as a ‘mitigating circumstance’ for all involved.

“I’m sure I’d be very happy to chat to him about whatever’s troubling the both of you,” she smiled.

Crowley smiled too. “Thanks,” he said, casually, but his tone and the relaxing of his shoulders betrayed a deep relief and gratitude.

“I’m free on Thursdays now, if you like?”

“Sounds great- well, I’ll ask him, anyway,” Crowley said.

Madame Tracey nodded. “Just give me a ring, love.” Next to her, the young cashier’s eyes suddenly bulged wide as they stared at whatever result concerning Crowley’s book the computer had just presented them with.

Crowley gave Madame Tracey a sharp nod and then turned to leave. “Um, sir, are you sure you want to-!” the cashier called out, but Crowley had already sauntered back out into the rain.

That had been six days ago, and now the angel himself would be here in less than an hour. Madame Tracey tapped the saucepan again. To boil or not to boil? Probably she should have thought about this sooner. Well… what harm could it do? From the sounds of it, it wasn’t going to be an easy conversation and Aziraphale would need something reassuring. And if it worked on her usual visitors, then why not him? He seemed just as English as she was. Maybe more so.

Madame Tracey nodded to herself, and then set the sprouts to boil.

◥|⧗|◤

About half an hour later, there was a sharp buzz on the intercom. When she opened the front door, the angel and the demon were standing there side by side, one dark and the other fair, almost putting her in mind of a pair of chess pieces. A bishop and a knight, perhaps. Crowley looked uncomfortable, and Aziraphale looked nervous.

They exchanged brief pleasant greetings, and then Madame Tracey beckoned Aziraphale inside. “Do come in, dear.”

“I’ll be back for you around four, alright?” Crowley said to him, as he massaged Aziraphale’s hand.

The angel murmured something in response and kissed Crowley dotingly on the cheek, squeezing him close. Madame Tracy saw a recalcitrant blush blossom underneath the demon’s sunglasses and the corners of his mouth twitch upwards. Aw. They were sweet together.

They parted and Crowley slouched back to his car, which Madame Tracey could swear was a vintage Bentley model older than she was. Aziraphale smiled at her and followed her inside, down the drab hallway and into her less-drab flat.

“Make yourself comfortable,” Madame Tracey said, and then popped quickly into the kitchenette. As well as the Brussels sprouts, now boiling away happily★, she’d been sure to boil the kettle and pre-prepare two cups, saucers and teabags, which she quickly assembled and brought out to the table in her sitting room. She placed one in front of the angel.

★Or as happily as any vegetables - had they attained sentience - could be, whilst being boiled to within an inch of their lives.

“Sugar, dear?” she gestured to the bowl.

“No, thank you,” Aziraphale replied, perfectly sweetly, but his hands were fidgeting underneath the tablecloth.

She sat down next to him and took a sip from her own cup. “Lovely,” she remarked. He likewise sipped his tea quietly, and nodded in agreement, although his face was gloomy.

“So, what exactly was it that you needed to talk to me about?” she asked.

“Um… I-I don’t really know where to start,” he replied with a light chuckle.

“Why don’t you just start at the beginning?” she suggested gently.

Aziraphale took a deep, slightly shaky breath, cradling the tea close to himself, and swallowed. “You, um, you remember the other angel that was at the airbase, in Tadfield?” he began.

Madame Tracy cast her mind back. There had been all manner of bizarre characters and phenomena around that day - an honourable mention to her-with-the-angel-in-her-body - but she did recall a figure who had spoken down to Aziraphale after the two of them had been separated again.

“Tall fellow?” she said. “Sharply dressed? Very easy on the eyes?” A habitual hint of coquettishness crept into her voice with the last question.

Aziraphale nodded. He didn’t look happy at the description.

“Nasty piece of work, I thought,” Madame Tracy added, coldly.

A brief smile flashed across the angel’s face. “Yes,” he said, taking another deep breath. “That’s Gabriel.”

“He’s your boss?”

“Was. I believe I’ve been - uh - ‘let go’.” He laughed humourlessly.

Then he gulped, and looked down. “He- Heaven- well, they… weren’t best pleased with me for helping to prevent Armageddon,” he said. “So they decided I had to be… punished for that, and-and for, um, associating with Crowley.” He raised his eyebrows slightly as he spoke the word associating, and Madame Tracy could tell exactly what sort of ‘association’ he was referring to.

There was a pregnant pause. Aziraphale seemed to be trying to work himself up to saying something, staring down at his clenched hands and breathing heavily.

“They… th-…” he started, but then stopped with a pained frown. He sighed. Then he tried again, but his mouth moved silently, no words coming out.

“Take your time, dear,” Madame Tracy said. She patted him reassuringly on shoulder.

He smiled briefly again, but the anguish was obvious in his eyes. For a few moments, he just sat still and took several deep, forced breaths, while Madame Tracy waited patiently. Eventually, he managed to stutter it out.

“They… r-raped me.”

Then he turned immediately away to look up at the ceiling, and blinked rapidly as tears formed in the bottom of his eyes.

“Oh, sweetheart,” exclaimed Madame Tracy. She didn’t know what she’d been expecting but it certainly wasn’t that. Instinctively, she reached to brush his hand. Aziraphale glanced at her and then quickly away again, his chest beginning to heave. A few choked gasps escaped the angel and his shoulders jerked silently up and down with sobs. Madame Tracy rushed to grab him a tissue from the box on the sideboard.

He accepted the tissue with another quick polite smile, and dabbed heavily at the watery corners of his eyes. She continued to stroke the back of his hand as he dried his eyes and tried to compose himself a little. The poor dear. It was unthinkable, what had happened to him.

“Apologies,” Aziraphale eventually said. “That’s the first time I’ve actually…s-said it out loud.”

Madame Tracy gave him a sympathetic look and squeezed his shaking hand. “No need to apologise, dear,” she said. “I’m so sorry. That’s dreadful.” She shook her head. “Awful.”

Aziraphale said nothing.

She didn’t feel it was really her place to ask him to clarify, but she felt herself pressed on by an awful morbid curiosity. “You said ‘they’…?” she asked cautiously.

Aziraphale swallowed, and managed to somehow look even more miserable. “A-Another angel, you wouldn’t know him,” he explained. His eyes wandered a little and his face darkened. “Even nastier piece of work than Gabriel. Always has been.” A minute shudder ran through his body.

“And they have the cheek to call themselves angels,” Madame Tracy scoffed.

Aziraphale snorted and waggled his eyebrows in agreement. The angel reached mutely for his tea and took a long draft, sighing deeply as he set it back down. He tapped the side of the cup restlessly as he moved to speak again.

“Crowley witnessed it all,” he said, the lines of anguish returning to his face. “He’s been so good to me. So patient.” He trailed off as a dreamy, loving look entered his eyes and the lines were replaced by the plumped cheeks and crow’s-foot creases of a real smile. Then the smile faded.

“But… well… it’s changed things,” he continued. “And I- I don’t know what to do. Neither does Crowley.” He looked over at her hopefully.

“What’s changed?” she asked delicately. “Maybe I can help.” That was doubtlessly why Crowley had asked her for this in the first place.

Aziraphale took a deep breath. “Um… I keep- I keep having these… ‘episodes’, I suppose, where, um, well, I feel… disconnected from everything. Sometimes for hours. Crowley tries to snap me out of it but it-it doesn’t always work.”

Madame Tracy said nothing, letting him continue.

“And it’s interfering with our, um…” - the angel coughed and his cheeks turned a deeper shade of pink - “…being intimate together.” He glanced at her hopefully again. “Y-You’re something of an expert in that area. What do you suggest?”

“So you’ve tried ‘being intimate’ since?” Madame Tracy responded with a question. She would normally be a lot more frank, but right now it was probably easiest to borrow the angel’s charmingly-euphemistic turn of phrase.

Aziraphale nodded.

“And it didn’t go well?” she prompted.

The angel shook his head. “We got halfway,” he said, “and it was- it was ok, it was nice, but then, well,” - he frowned - “something changed and I just, sort of… went numb.” His face creased with regret. “And that was the end of that.”

She smiled softly again and rubbed his arm.

“You’re going to need time, dear,” she said. “You have to be patient with yourself.” Aziraphale stared down into his tea, still forlorn.

It’s a good thing he came to me, she thought. At least she had some experience with this kind of thing; more than Crowley would, anyway. Content, well-adjusted individuals weren’t typically in the habit of visiting a sex worker when they could just as easily be getting ‘it’ in more typical places. Many of her clients had clearly been in it just as much for the company and emotional support as the sex, and over the years, she’d gotten pretty decent at assuaging the needs of the soul in addition to the body.

“If you want my advice for what to do-” she began, and he instantly looked back up at her, “I think you should try to focus on yourself. Rest, do things you enjoy, make sure you’re relaxing; really just take some time to nurture yourself.”

Aziraphale looked uncertain.

“As for the disconnecting-” she pressed on, taking charge of the conversation, “-well, we just need to find a way to reconnect you, that’s all.” A sudden memory flitted into her mind. “Come to think of it,” she continued, “I had a client once who I think suffered from a similar thing.”

Aziraphale’s eyebrows rose inquisitively.

“He was rather odd with it - he would start listing things; objects that were in the room,” she said. “Said it helped to name all the blue things he could see or things he could smell. Quite bizarre.” She’d heard about Mindfulness and Similar Capitalised Concepts in magazines, although she wasn’t sure what blue objects had to do with it. “But it seemed to work for him,” she finished.

The angel looked rather sceptical. “So I should… count objects?” he asked.

Well, she hadn’t meant that quite so literally. “It’s all about grounding yourself in the present, I believe,” she said authoritatively. “Always returning to reality, and focusing on what’s around you.”

Aziraphale nodded slowly.

“For example, in the, ahem, bedroom” - Madame Tracey batted her eyelashes - “if you feel yourself drifting off, try to notice all of the touches and sensations and whatnot. Your Crowley seems very attentive,” she continued, causing Aziraphale to turn beetroot-red and grin sheepishly at the floor, “-so you just relax and think about what feels good to you, all the things that feel pleasurable in the moment.” She thought for a second.

“Do you have a bathtub?” she asked suddenly.

Aziraphale blinked in surprise, and then nodded. “Yes- well, Crowley has one, in his flat.”

Madame Tracey raised a finger to hush him and then quickly got up and left the angel sitting, confused, at the table, as she vanished into the bathroom at the back of the flat. With targeted precision, she collected together a number of parcels and baskets she’d had lying around, and brought an armful back out to the living room. They bumped and tumbled as she dumped them onto the table between them.

“So-” she pointed at each of the objects in turn, “-you’ve got bath bombs, and there’s some salts there too, and moisturiser and your essential oils and- oh, you like tea, don’t you, love?”

Ignoring Aziraphale’s bewildered face as he tried to process the question, she bustled over to the kitchenette and began pulling boxes from one of the cupboards. She reached to the very back and pulled down a bright gift box, containing a selection of exotic and colourful loose-leaf teas, which she’d at first mistaken for potpourri.

“One of my old clients gave me these, but Mr. S will never go for that sort of thing and after all, your need is greater,” she said, and added the box to the sprawling pile on the table.

“I-I couldn’t possibly accept all this!” the angel protested.

“Oh, nonsense, dear,” Madame Tracy replied, fussing a hand at him. “I’m always buying this stuff, or getting given it; I’ve plenty enough to last the rest of my life and beyond. It’s good to pay it forward.” Satisfied with the haul, she sat back down next to him.

Aziraphale looked sheepish again. “And… this will help, you think?” he asked quietly.

“Well, it’ll certainly relax you and engage the senses,” she said. “And they say smell is a powerful thing, don’t they?” The smells that emanated from Shadwell’s flat certainly were, she thought to herself. “If you can practice focusing when you’re happy and relaxed, it’ll come easier when you really need to.”

Aziraphale sighed, and some of the tension finally melted away from his face as he smiled. Madame Tracey returned the expression.

“Oh, bother,” Aziraphale muttered, as he reached for his tea and noticed that both cups had gone rather lukewarm as they’d been talking.

“I’ll brew us another,” Madame Tracey said as she began to get up.

“Oh, no need!” Aziraphale stopped her. He clicked his fingers sharply and suddenly both cups were once again as hot as newly poured, the smell of fresh tea thrown back into the air around them. Madame Tracey blinked in surprise. Sometimes she almost forgot that Aziraphale and Crowley weren’t human, and then they went and did - she’d heard them called miracles, and that seemed apt - just like it was nothing. Amazing.

She picked up the cup, somewhat cautiously, and took another sip. The angel smiled again, and joined her.

◥|⧗|◤

Crowley prodded the doorbell and then stepped back, squinting again at the needlessly complex display of his watch. He was a little bit earlier than he’d said. Hopefully that didn’t matter. He lounged against the edge of the wall as he waited for a response from inside the house, still feeling taut with nerves. This whole thing had been his idea, and while Aziraphale had assured him that he agreed, Crowley felt a little like he’d pressured the angel into it. He just hoped it would help.

He heard muffled footsteps, and stood up straight as the door clicked open and revealed Madame Tracey’s cheery face, greeting him. Aziraphale came up behind her, his arms full of… boxes? … and squeezed past until he was standing in front of Crowley.

“Hey angel,” Crowley said softly. “Ready to go?”

“One moment, dear,” Aziraphale replied. He turned back to Madame Tracey.

“I-I really can’t thank you enough, for all of this” - he gestured to the pile of boxes - “and all of the advice and just… for listening.” Crowley was glad to hear a note of calm and relief in the angel’s voice, which hadn’t been there when Crowley dropped him off.

“Any time, love,” Madame Tracey patted Aziraphale’s arm. “You take care of yourself now.”

She looked meaningfully at Crowley, and then added: “Both of you.”

Aziraphale beamed at them both, and then carefully picked his way over the doorstep and followed Crowley to the Bentley. Crowley opened and closed the door for him, gave a vague wave to Madame Tracey, and got into the driver’s side. As he did so, a cacophony of overlapping scents instantly hit him. It was just like he’d walked into one of those cosmetics shops - the sort that you could already get a whiff of from fifty metres away and whose products always looked tantalisingly edible.

“What’s all that about?” he nodded towards the source of the offending smell, the horde of parcels in Aziraphale’s arms.

Aziraphale laughed lightly. “I’m under strict instructions to relax,” he explained, his tone humorous.

Crowley smirked. “Well, I could have told you that.”

Aziraphale laughed again. Crowley’s heart squeezed in his chest at the sound of it. It was so good to hear him laugh again.

He leant close to the angel, his voice becoming earnest. “It helped, then?” he asked.

Aziraphale’s face softened and he gazed lovingly into Crowley’s eyes. “It did,” he replied sincerely. Crowley’s heart soared as the angel reached out to draw him close, and planted a firm kiss against the corner of his mouth. Then he settled back with a satisfied sigh. Crowley gazed at him fondly for a few seconds, then he put the Bentley into gear and they roared away.

[ticklikeabomb]

One-shot : Noises

Pairing : Loki x Plus Size Reader

Warnings : Language, Innuendos, Sexy Times, Implied Smut (18+)

Word Count : 1.6k

Requested by @scorpionchild81​ : How about a Loki x reader oneshot: they give each other a back-massage in readers room, but some passbying Avengers hears yells coming from inside the room that makes them wonder... - (based on sentences overheard from outside a spa-lounge back home) "Put your back into it! Do it harder! You are so damn tight! Oh fuck me, your hands feel so good!" True story...

It wasn’t a secret for anyone crossing the compound’s tower that there was some kind of animosity between you and Loki. Both of you were stubborn, always trying to prove the other wrong and seeking for the final word. That kind of behaviour would probably annoy the God of Mischief in a normal period of time, especially coming from a mere mortal, but somehow it was different when it regarded you. He found it challenging, always on the edge of his seat, even going so far as saying, a necessary surviving mechanism. The most simple and ridiculous thing would be the beginning of a feud, sometimes out of boredom and the most time out of provocation. It’s simple: You and Loki loved to argue. It was your definition of fun. A funny game that annoyed the hell out of the other members.

Today wasn’t any different. You arrived at the kitchen in a particular bad mood due to the lack of sleep and were greeted by the delight that is of hearing Loki’s unique way of greeting you. “Someone looks ravishingly terrible”, he said while taking a gulp of his coffee. The side-eye you gave him would make anyone else tremble but not him, who just cockily smirked. “You sound amazingly annoying. As per usual”, you replied not even sparing him another look. “Well that’s a great way to start the day off”, commented Tony under his breath. “And who’s fault is it?”, you told the billionaire. “Guys, please can we for once eat in peace?”, quickly intervened before you had the chance to bark anything out. Loki found it amusing to shapeshift as Steve and impersonate him.  You rolled your eyes and sat next to Bucky, completely ignoring Loki. You were so caught in conversation with the former assassin that you didn’t notice Loki’s brows frowned, anger boiling inside him, seeing you talk so easily and animated with another man.

Thor leaned in and whispered at his brother’s ear, “Careful brother, your inner jealousy is showing off.” “Don’t be ridiculous”, spat Loki to a smiling Thor. “Whatever makes you sleep better”, replied the latter. Disregarding him, Loki turned to Tony and asked what was the mission of the day. “It’s a simple recon in Brussels. Small team: Steve, Bucky, Sam, Nat and Wanda. Nothing special.”

“If it’s nothing special why don’t you send me in and I’ll get it done by myself in less time than you can sayTheistareykjarbunga ”. “What did you just call me?”, asked Tony jokingly. “It’s the name of… never mind”, replied Loki once he saw Tony’s amused expression. “As tempting as that sounds, the plan’s already set in motion. You’ll have to find a way to pass time here.” Loki’s gaze locked on you and smirked in anticipation. “Maybe I could help Y/N get the stick out of her ass.” Your eyes widened and mouth fell open for second before you regained some composure and turned towards Thor, “Tangled how much do you love him? Like in a scale from ‘very much’ to ‘not at all I will be glad for you to murder him’ wise?” Your question made some of the Avengers laugh and Loki’s dark gaze intensify. “You would miss me too much”, replied Loki. “Keep telling yourself that”, you said before cleaning up your things and leaving the kitchen. Steve turned to Loki and shook his head, “Why are you like this man?”, to which Loki only smirked.

After the designated team members left for the mission, you asked F.R.I.D.A.Y who were the others. “Bruce, Tony and Rhodes are in the lab and required no disturb of any kind. Peter, Thor, Scott and Vision left for a baseball match and Loki is at the library.” You sighed, realising the only human interaction was either none of with the God of Mischief. “Should I inform King Loki of you presence?” “King? What? No..NOO absolutely not. I’d rather die of boredom alone than having to hear him once more today.”

“Awn don’t be like that pet”, suddenly Loki’s voice filled your room. Since you were in your private cacoon you didn��t bother to put on a shirt and were in a shorts and bra. You covered your chest with your arms and yelled, “WTF LOKI WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN MY ROOM??? GET OUT” He stretched out his hands as a sign of no harm, “Wow sorry I ddin’t… know you..were half naked.” “NO SHIT, GET OUT” He turned around but didn’t leave. “Look, I’m bored, I’ve finished all the books from the library, twice and since you’re the only one available, I thought we could do something together.” You grabbed a shirt that was lying next your bed an put it on. “And of course, you thought the best way was to teleport you inside my room easy peasy without consequences. Besides, what happened ‘to get the stick out of my ass’. Now I’m good enough for your highness’s attention. And why is F.R.I.D.A.Y. calling you ‘King Loki’?”, you rambled furiously.

He disappeared in the middle of your rambling and you heard knocks. You opened up and say him leaning against the door frame. “I’m sorry for what I said this morning, I don’t think your uptight. May I come in?”, he spoke seductively. You narrowed your eyes but eventually let him in. “Apologizing is not really your fortey.” “Accepting them is not yours”, he replied. “Touché”. You sat at the edge of your bed and saw him wander around your room, looking at the pictures on the wall. “What do you want?”, you finally asked tiredly. “I don’t know. Do something. Pass time.” You turned around and felt your back crack and let out a shaky breath. “Need a back massage dear?”, he asked intrigued. “What? No.”

His piercing gaze reading you like a map he exclaimed, “Are you sure? It seems to me that your back hurts and a massage would be the remedy to it.” He saw you consider it before frowning again. “Ah ah ah, before you say anything, please let me help you. Let’s say it’s a way to repay you for that stupid comment this morning.” “Loki I don’t know if that’s a good idea.” He shrugged, “Why not? We’re both adults. If it becomes too much you just say and I’ll stop. Trust me on this one.”

“Fine”, you gave up and laid on the bed. You passed him your lotion from the nightstand and lifted you shirt off. “Relax”, he whispered. It was hard to relax, when you had a tall, (hot), dark haired, God sitting on your ass while his hands were wandering your back.

Meanwhile, the team came back from their mission, exhausted. They chatted through the facility’s corridors while heading to their rooms who were at the same floor as yours. “Yeah and did you see his face when…hold on what’s that noise?”, asked Sam. “What noise?”, exclaimed Wanda.

“Oh come on, you could put your back into it. I’m barely feeling you.” “DO IT HARDER !”

“What the fuck”, mumbled Bucky.

“Yes…yes, like that Loki. Shit your hands feel so good. So..fuck me..yes harder, just like that”, your voice rang out load.

“I guess they finally came to a way to blow off some stream. Finally”, commented Natasha.

“LOKII YES THERE, RIGHT THERE, DON’T STOP”, the team heard you and they tried to suppress their laughs when they saw Steve’s bet red face. The team decided to split and head towards their respective rooms.

“Wow, thanks. I guess I really needed that”, you mumbled in contempt. He leaned forward and pressed a small kiss on your shoulder. “It was my pleasure.” He laid down next to you and caressed your hair. “Sorry about the noise”, you said a little embarrassed. He chuckled and told you that the team arrived. “Do you think they know?”, you asked him. “Hmm I doubt it, but something tells me that they heard you.” “Shiiiittt, we were so close man.”

“Can you believe that we were this close to sabotage their bet and gain the whole cash”, you whined in frustration. “That we were but I’m glad that it’s finally over. I don’t want to hide anymore”, he said. “Me neither. For a bunch of spies and superheroes, they suck at knowing their team members. It’s gonna be our second anniversary and they have no clue”, you laughed. Lifting yourself up and crawling above him leaving feather like kisses on his abdomen, you smirked feeling his breath hitch. You hand travelled down and felt him completely comply to your touch. “Someone’s eager”, you teased. “Y/N you driving me crazy. Since this morning, when you dared showing up with your post sex hair at the kitchen till now, you’ve been having me to the edge.” You hummed and started taking care of your man.

You and Loki entered the kitchen smiling and laughing at something when you turned to the Avengers who were smirking. “What?”, you asked suspiciously. “Oh nothing”, replied Tony. There was a silent before Sam broke it, “Isn’t it funny that the frenemies always end up together?” You and Loki shared a look before Tony exclaimed out of patience, “So you guys finally fucked?” “TONYY”, whisper-yelled Steve. “The whole compound heard”, exclaimed Nat. “Loki was giving me a massage”, you replied. “YEAH sure A MaSsAgE”, mimicked Bucky. “Yes it was indeed”, counterattacked Loki. “You guys weren’t fondueing?”, cautiously asked Steve. “No Steve.” “I call BS”, said Peter.

“Well I mean, if you’re talking about this morning, and yesterday, and the day before and for the last two years then yeah we were totally fucking”, you said with a smug grin. Their mouths dropped. “WHATTT, for the past two years??” “Exactly”, smiled Loki. “But how? When? What? Why?”, mumbled Sam dumbfounded. “Ahhh so many questions and so little time. Now if you’ll excuse me, we have a special date tonight. Byeeee”, you grabbed Loki’s hand and got out. You spent the night freely with your man.

* gifs not mine, credit to owners*

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[lucidpantone]

Chapter 1: Visitations

Someone recently asked the tag if Sander and Robbe stayed together forever. Here’s a fic giving you the answer. Thanks for the inspiration.

Read the rest on Ao3.

Autumn always brought along rich tones of vanilla, cinnamon and all-spice into Robbe’s landscape. Robbe loved the autumn colors, shades of sun-burnt orange, vermillion and chartreuse sprinkle across the leaves that littered the pavement on his route to work. Its like he could taste the change of seasons ahead but it also gave him cause for concern. A visitation session was surely on the horizon. Sander was like a rolex watch when it came to anything Bowie related. Robbe was sure that cat was the love of Sander’s life. He found Bowie abandoned on the streets of Antwerp as a kitten and saved him from certain death. Robbe can still recall the day he came through the door with something nuzzled inside his leather jacket.

“Sander, we can’t keep it.” Robbe retorted as Sander gently cradled the kitty against his chest rocking it back and forth. “We just got this apartment I don’t even know if were allowed pets. I’m slammed at university, your never here, and your always at work or at the studio”.

Robbe knew this discussion was pointless. Sander just kept pouting at all of Robbe’s logical reasoning, flashing his puppy dog eyes at him and holding up the tiny kitten to Robbe’s face as a defense. Robbe just rolled his eyes and threw his hands up in defeat.  

“Ugh… okay …. Fine. God I hate you sometimes Driesen.”

“Love you too” Sander replied, pressing a soft kiss on Robbe’s jawline with a victorious smile plastered across his face.

“So, what are we going to name it?” Robbe asked looking down at the tiny creature who was literally the size of Sander’s palm.

Sander frowned. He almost looked offended by Robbe’s question.

“Bowie, of course. I mean his all black with a white lightening bolt on his belly. He's obviously a Bowie.”

Robbe found Sander’s response endearing. So much so he didn’t have the heart to tell him that that white striped looked nothing like a lightning bolt but he went with it anyways.

“Bowie, it is.” Robbe said as he leaned into Sander’s chest to pet the tiny kitten. Sander immediately cautioning him before he even laid a hand on the cat.

“Go slow, his sensitive okay”. Robbe couldn’t help but smile at his boyfriend’s protective reflexes.

There it was. The text Robbe had been dreading since the animal clinic called him earlier in the week to confirm Bowie’s appointment.

Taking Bowie to the vet on Saturday. I should get to Brussels around 7 tonight. Does that work for you? - Sander

7 works. - Robbe

Robbe grunted and slid down his desk chair.

“What’s up with you?” Lia asked.

“Oh nothing” Robbe quickly perked up and sat up on his chair. He didn’t want to be caught sulking at work.

“Do you think you can have the club estimation ready for next Wednesday?” Lia asked.

Robbe was the youngest architect at his firm. So he always felt like he was slightly faking it or suffering from imposter syndrome. He had only just completed his certification and was lucky enough that the firm he apprenticed at for two years offered him a full time job upon graduation.

Lia was the second youngest she had graduated a year earlier. They spent a lot of time together dealing with all the young trendy clients who wanted to do renovations on shoestring budgets.

“What time is it?” Lia asked Robbe.

“Half past 5” Robbe shouted back.

“On a Friday” Lia scoffed. “Let’s get out of here. I need a drink after this week.”

Robbe nodded his head towards the door and both of them sprung up off their chairs collecting their paperwork and turning off their computers.

Robbe began to take off his shirt and tie exposing his black tshirt underneath. He hated his nine to five attire but the firm had a strict dress code policy. Shirt and trousers.

“I hate this tie” Robbe grunted loudly as he forcefully ripped it off himself.

“Well you wouldn’t have to wear it if you weren’t so damn cool” Lia teased him.

“Firstly Thibaut is over exaggerating they are not neck tattoos. You can barely see them.” Robbe dramatically threw his hands up.

“I mean you can totally see them…..what are they again?” Lia asked sarcastically.

“Shut up” Robbe started pushing Lia towards the door.

Grabbing his black jacket and man bag off the coat rack on the other side of the office practically skipping towards Lia who was leaning against the door frame waiting for Robbe to hurry up.

As he got to her she held her hand against his chest examining the three tiny icons placed directly at the bottom of his throat underneath his adams apple.

“A lightning bolt, a half moon and….”

Robbe finished her sentence for her “ The other half of a ying yang. The white half.”

“How hipster of you” Lia said curiously.

“I guess, or better yet the mistakes of a misspent youth.” Robbe smugly replied.

“Misspent youth???” Lia laughed out. “Robbe your only twenty five”.

Robbe rolled his eyes he felt like he was thirty five sometimes. “Almost twenty six for your information. Come on now, I need a beer” he grabbed onto Lia’s hand and started dragging her out the door.

“We aren’t going to Belgica?” Lia shouted back to him as they walked down the street.

“Why not?” Robbed asked confused.

“Because your too pretty for your own good Robbe and we spend half the night fighting off every gay boy in there trying to get your attention.”

“Stop it Lia.”

“It’s true Robbe. You got that whole rebel rebel graduated up skater boy vibe and that damn mop of hair. Your like a billboard for shampoo or something. Plus your single.”

Robbe was blushing. Lia was too sweet she always made him feel special in her own teasing way. She was like the big sister he never had.

“Ok you choose” Robbe surrender.

“Noir it is” Lia responded.

Robbe looked at his phone and checked the time 5:42.

Robbe liked Lia but he didn’t want her privy to his messy love life. She had already lived through Robbe and Lucas’s break up.

Did she really need to know anymore about him.

Robbe paused for a moment and thought fuck it.

Meet me at Bar Noir at 7. -Robbe

********************************************************************************

As Robbe reached over the sink to grab some paper towels he simultaneously ran his right hand through his hair and looked up into the mirror. His eyes inadvertently darted towards the text peeking out underneath the sleeve of his tshirt. He inhaled sharply vividly recalling the memory of his nineteen year self play fighting with Sander because he wanted to see it.

“Show me,I know you got another one” Sander walked around his boyfriend inspecting Robbe’s body contemplating which part of him to undress first. As he slowly began tugging at his hoodie a huge cheshire grin appeared across Robbe’s face.

“Got him” Sander thought. He finally managed to get Robbe’s hoodie off when he saw the cling film wrapped around Robbe’s right bicep. Sander grabbed Robbe’s right wrist turning it upwards to face him and lifting it slightly to uncover the text on Robbe’s inner arm. It was a simple three word phrase but it was “their” phrase and what Robbe repeated to Sander when things got overwhelming for him. In a slightly hushed voice Sander read the phrase out loud “minuut per minuut”.

Robbe broke out of his daze. Pulling himself out of the memory.

Robbe headed back out the bathroom into the boisterous Friday night afterwork bar crowd.

Another shot of whiskey? Lia shouted from the bar.

“No,no” Robbe was signaling to her. He wanted to make sure he was somewhat sober for his impending meet up with Sander. They hadn’t seen one another since Chernobyl at the beginning of the summer.

Robbe snaked through the crowd till he reached Lia at the bar. They stood shoulder to shoulder as she knocked back her shot and chased it down with some beer.

“You should know my ex is probably going to show up here any minute now”. Robbe swiftly mentioned.

“You and Lucas are talking again?” Lia said with optimism in her voice.

Robbe quickly broke eye contact and shook his head. It still stung to hear Lucas’s name. It had been a few months but everything was still a bit raw for him.

“No the other one.” Lia instantly scowled at Robbe’s omission.

Robbe jokingly tapped her shoulder with the back of his hand as they walked towards a bar table with their beers in hand “come on don’t do that… you don’t even know him”.

“I don't need to know him, I know his type.” Lia shouted over the crowd as she scooted herself onto a bar stool.

“Extremely good looking” Robbe acknowledged that as Lia counted Sander’s qualities off with her fingers.  

“Mysterious but in that deeply troubled kind of way” Lia formed a peace sign with her hands at her second observation.

“Mindblowing sex” Lia held three fingers up towards Robbe’s face now.

“Oh and let me guess” Lia leaned into Robbe’s face real closely. “He broke up with you?”

Robbe chuckled “You know me too well Lia”.

“No I don’t. Like I said I know the type” She stated as she chugged down more of her beer.

“Speak of the devil”. Robbe gestured towards the door.

Lia looked up wide eye. Robbe was used to this reaction. Years of seeing others getting enamored by Sander’s beauty.

His lunar white hair a relic of the past. Sander was a brunette now. His natural copper tone brown hair framed his perfectly chiseled face. A jawline for days.

“Oh now I get it. I would have chernobyl(d) with him too”. Lia said a little too enthusiastically never taking her eyes off Sander as he spotted Robbe and started walking over to them.

Lia broke her gaze and quickly looked up and down Robbe’s body. “So what is your dick made out of gold or something” Lia questioned Robbe.

Robbe scoffed. “What”

“I mean you obviously attract a type. Smoking hot with pretty eyes” leaning her body slightly towards Robbe and opening her hand up like she was begging for Robbe to tell her his secret.

Sander reached their table.

Lia let out a barely audible “God I wish my exes looked like yours” as she raised her glass of beer to her mouth.

“Hey” Sander said as he took off his leather jacket exposing his arms covered in intricate tattoos sliding onto the opposing bar stool across from Robbe. The table was one of those cylinder bar tops that had Robbe and Sander awkwardly rubbing shoulder to shoulder both looking strait on towards Lia.

Sander looked at Robbe for a second too long waiting for him to introduce him to his friend.

Robbe’s mind finally caught up with his manners.

“Lia this is Sander, Sander this is Lia. We work together.” Sander reached out to shake Lia‘s hand.

“Nice to meet you” Sander responded.

“We’re just going to finish up our drinks and then we can head out” Robbe explained to Sander.

“Yeah that's fine. Gives me time to roll” as he pulled out rolling paper out of his back pocket and placed it on the bar table.

“How was the driv...?” unbeknownst to Robbe, Lia abruptly cut him out of his own conversation. “You drove here?” she questioned Sander. Sander nodded. Her eager curiosity getting the best of her. “Where from?”

“Antwerp, I live there” Sander responded flaty. He could tell Robbe’s friend was a little curious about him. God knows what Robbe had told her about him.

“What are you doing in Brussels?” Lia questioned some more.

Sander attempting to look busy as he rolled a joint.

Sander hated people trying to figure him out. He was the private type didn't like to give strangers to many details about himself but this was Robbe’s friend so he had to play nice.

Sander rested his right forearm against the table as he sprinkle tobacco onto the rolling paper.

That’s when he noticed Robbe’s friend attentively examining the tattoo on his wrist.

“It's a constellations.” Sander responded in a curt tone.

“Yeah I know what it is” Lia explained. “I see it everyday. It's the same one Robbe has on his wrist right?”

Robbe’s eyes found Sander’s. Sander smirked back at him.

Robbe suddenly turning red at Lia’s discovery.

Sander finished rolling his joint licking it together. When he shifted his body towards Lia.

Robbe thought to himself “here we go”. He had seen this typical Sander performance before fueled with charm and bravato.

“Yeah it's one of mine” Sander shot a flirty smile at Lia as he stuck the joint behind his ear.

“I mean the design of course, not the person.” Sander winked making Lia giggle like a teenage girl.

Sander leaned straight into her personal space. Making her slightly pull back. Sander was making her nervous.

“If your interested I have a tattoo shop in Antwerp I could ink you sometime. You can get this exact tattoo or something personalized from me to you.”

Sander slowly pulled away from Lia’s orbit leaving her slightly flushed.

Robbe chuckled a little to loudly. Sander shot him a boyish grin in return. Well aware that Robbe knew what game he was playing.

Robbe found these exchanges very amusing. It took Sander a mere 5 minutes to get his coworker from denouncing him to having her completely giddy and wrapped around his little finger.

When Robbe was younger these interactions use to really bother him. Make him feel insecure like Sander could get anyone he wanted what was he doing with Robbe.

But now it was just amusing to Robbe. It solidified what Robbe already knew which was no one really knew the real Sander. What Lia was seeing now was Sander peacocking at his best.

Lia broke out of her spell as she fumbled through her words a little and stated. “I think I want something custom. It’d be weird if we all had identical tattoo’s?”

“Oh there not identical” Sander stated as he grabbed Robbe’s beer off the table and took a large gulp into his mouth. Robbe gawked at him unimpressed.

Can you spot the difference? Sander suddenly took a hold of Robbe’s hand and slammed both their forearms onto the table towards Lia direction.

Robbe’s coworker leaned in super closely to examine their forearms as their hands were clasped together.

It didn’t take long for Lia to uncover what made each tattoo unique. Each forearm had a perfectly placed red planet in the middle of it (maybe Mars) with an orbital belt surrounding it. There was a moon and stars and another distance planet in the background(maybe Saturn). There was one thing that looked out of place but also really beautiful. A large blossoming tree was growing out of the large center planet. There was also some cursive text placed horizontally on both Robbe and Sander’s wrist. Lia recited the text from left to right it started from Robbe wrist “All the way” and ended on Sander’s wrist “or no way”.

Lia's brow furrowed. As she looked at both males. “I don’t get it, what does it mean?”

Sander finally spoke up locking Robbe into his glare as the words slowly dripped out of his mouth. “All the way or no way”.

Robbe let go of Sander’s hand almost violently and spoke. It felt like he had kept quiet throughout Lia and Sander’s entire conversation. Like he just disappeared for a moment.

Robbe shot Lia a calculated smile.

“It doesn’t mean anything. Just something we use to say to one another when we were younger.”

Robbe began to get up and collect his jacket. Obviously implying that this little meetup was now over. It surprised Lia, Robbe was never this brash, almost rude. Lia was about to make some silly joke about ruining the night when Robbe sensed it and he did something he only ever did with clients. He gave Lia one of his stand down asshole smirks that halted anymore conversation. That let their clients know that negotiations were now over and this transaction had come to a close.

Lia scanned Sander’s face for some explanation. She saw a hint of reaction towards Robbe sudden harsh change in demeanor but it amused him. He seemed to like it.

Robbe finished putting his jacket on and soften again leaning into Lia to give her a kiss on the cheek and bid her good night. Flashing that calculated smile at her again.

He glanced back at Sander. He hadn’t moved.

“Get your jacket” Robbe demanded.

Sander began to get up and collect his things. Never breaking eye contact with Robbe a dark tonality hidden behind his eyes.

Lia was so confused. It’s like these two were speaking some unknown language only they understood but it was so strange. Lia knew Robbe but she rarely saw this side of him. It was slightly distance, spikey, but confident almost captivating. Its like this sweet, thoughtful and warm human morphed into someone else in front of her eyes but she couldn’t explain what he morphed into.

She wasn’t sure what she was looking at.

“Text me when you get home” Robbe whispered into her ear as he gave her one final kiss good night and walked towards the exit never looking back at Sander to check if he was coming with him.

Sander leaned in towards Lia giving her a kiss goodnight. Perfectly placing it a little too close to her mouth. It gave her butterflies she could almost taste him as he pulled back.

Lia's eyes followed him towards the door.

She sat there bewildered, puzzled, thinking to herself.

What was that? or better yet, who was that? and she wasn’t talking about Sander.

[whatdoesshedotothem]

Tuesday 19 June 1838

7

2 20

packing travelling bag and portmanteau and lastly dressing till breakfast at 10 – then paid bills and wrote out (A- copied for me on one sheet my letter to Mrs. B- and SW. of yesterday and my letters sent off this morning) and sent by George to the p.o. Place de la Madeleine at 12 25 pm my letter to ‘William gray Esquire Junior, Minster yard, York Angleterre affranchie’ and my letter to ‘Messrs. Parker and Adam, solicitors Halifax, Yorkshire, Angleterre’ and my letter to ‘Mr. Mackean Yorkshire district Bank, Halifax, Yorkshire, Angleterre’ – from 12 25 to 2 settled with Lefevre – had the mistress of the house and paid her – nice person – lets her house for the winter –  occupied with 1 thing or other – luckily tried on my Figarol-made merinos – little alterations required – dressed – talked to A- must still go again to r. St. V- and to the bank and to F- about my merinos – could not get off today, but might be off at 6am tomorrow – had spoken to the mistress of the house who said it would make no difference whether we were this afternoon or tomorrow morning – she had said if we wanted an apartment in her house for the winter should write in August or September – the 2nde 1000 per month – the 3me (that we now occupied) 600/. per month with batterie de cuisine and remise and all complete – settled to be off tomorrow – A- and I took Lefevre and walked to the bank – there at 3 40 – Exchanged circular no.4929 = £25 exchange at 25/40 = 635 fr. – I had paid above 1000 fr. this morning and got frightened at being left with only about a thousand for our journey to Bordeaux – I dare not calculate too nearly with poor A- without watching and nursing and resting pro renata it would be impossible to get her well on – yet she likes travelling, and she is certainly the better for it – Staying too long at a time at home or anywhere else does not do for her – I never saw a constitution si veritablement ‘grêle, sèche, et irritable’ – from the bank to Madame Figarol there at 4 ¼ - on accidentally mentioning Rosalie, it seems she has got a place with an English Lady r. de Neuilly who rarely leaves Paris – F- asked if I had got her the place – no! perhaps Mademoiselle Gassie had – F- thought (evidently) that I knew all about it – made no observation to the contrary – the girl had probably this place in view, not her medicin or his opinion of her health, when she wrote me her get-off note! – a few drops of rain as A- and I walked back – took shelter – sent Lefevre to the r. Royal for fiacre à l’heure – and returned in it to the arcades – changed my dress – sent Lefevre with my merinos to Madame F- put all the things for R. St. V- into the fiacre and took George and A- and I off about 5 ¼ or after and arrived at 6 – sent George home as soon as he had got the things upstairs, and then A- and I went to the restaurant en face du Jardin and from 6 55 to 7 ¼ had a very good dinner which we both enjoyed – everything ordered pour un and quite enough for us two

Pot au riz. 0.30

Fricandeau de veau au [?]  0.75

Marinade de volaille 1.50

choux fleur 0.75

omelette soufflée 1.00

½ bouteille vin ordinaire 0.40

Donné a la fille 0.20

4.90

– then back to r. St. V- and putting all away tidily till 9 40 – Left here in one large carton

1 satin gown

1 crape pelerine

2 pair new Calés stays

2 pair A- knitted woollen sleeves

and in another carton my Mrs. Cook-made York black bonnet and old grey silk Paris capotte of 1834 and A-‘s ditto ditto ditto ditto of ditto

some old money bags in buffet

Obzendorf gold watch in bureau drawer with papers and bills paid this time

Plate 1 pair sugar tongs in buffet drawer

2 salt spoons

1 mustard ditto

2 silver fruit knives

keys of hair trunk and bureau

2 packets of books bought at Brussels etc. this time and Boyles’ Belgian guide and left on one of the bookshelves 15 vols. + A-‘s books

Paid the portière ./60 for my letter from Calais received yesterday – and ./40 for calling fiacre for which we had to wait ½ hour – she said my meuble would be done up (mis à neuf) with stuff of cotton and woollen that would not be soon moth-eaten and would look very nice – for 120/. to 130fr. Canapé and 6 fauteuils (I think I have no bergères)  Madame Cusinbache would find us beds – and ditto and little rooms upstairs au 5me for the 2 servants if on our return we chose to stay at r. St. V- said I would think about it – as also about the meuble and would write if I wished it to be done – if I took the little room adjoining my study and the little kitchen opposite to it, these 2 pièces would be 200/. per annum – but I might if my apartment was furnished let it advantageously – J’y penserai – home in ½ hour at 10 ¾ - Paid Lefevre his 5/. a day for the 13 days including today and gave him 5/. over with which he seemed pleased and said he would be here at 5am tomorrow to see us off – then sat with A- at her bedside eating strawberries and talking till very near 12 – then ½ hour+ packing our provision and bottle baskets etc. doubted for a moment whether to go to bed at all – or whether to lie down with my clothes on – but hot and uncomfortable and thought 2 or 3 hours would be better than nothing so undressed and went regularly to bed – fine day – no rain except the little shower about after 4 pm

[lolacouldnotcareless]

About me tag!

i was tagged by @isthisatlantis, thank you dear! :3 i really had fun with this!!💜💜💜

1. How tall are you?

something like 1m68

2. What color and style is your hair?

it’s brown, short, and straighter than i’ll ever be. always messy, sometimes looks like sex hair but the truth is that i wrestle with my pillow to fall or stay asleep. nothing sexy involved. sorry to break your fantasy like that. tis a sad day

3. What color are your eyes?

grey-ish blue

4. Do you wear glasses?

if i want to see something i gotta. another tragedy. when i went to the ophthalmologist the first thing he literally told me was: “you have big blue eyes and you were sent to me? i can already tell you you’re short-sighted.” i cried lol

5. Do you wear braces?

my fucking teeth had been looked after since i was 8, i wore different kinds of braces till i was 15, and all of that to be told that the only way my teeth would ever be straight was to undergo an aesthetic surgery which consists in breaking both of my jaws, thing the orthodontist had known since i was 8. And he knew the whole brace thing would be useless. so now i’m left with absolutely no confidence in my smile, a bad self-esteem, and a total distrust for any male dentist with big fingers. dude i absolutely hated to go there, i had never trusted him for as long as i went there, i was literally crying each time i had to go there and my mom was like “stop now, you’ll see, you’ll have a beautiful smile after this, wait and see.” lmao that didn’t age well

6. What’s your fashion sense?

hoodies/sweatshirts with slim or skinny jeans plaid shirts, stripped shirts, just shirts tbh with slim/skinny jeans stripped t-shirts, black t-shirts, large décolletés to show off my collarbone and when we’re feeling fab the dark see-through shirt with black top underneath (or just a dark bra idc i like it) with my fave pair of jeans (grey, with holes on the knees, high waisted, bought in the boy section from h&m so i have big pockets and elastics on the side to fit my fucking waist, best pair ever ilysm) the only consistent thing is the dark colours tbh

7. Full name?

lola s j-l somethingsimplebutunpronouceabletoenglishandspanishspeakers

8. Where were you born?

uccle, near brussels

9. What kind of student are you?

in uni i’m the silent one that literally never talks if they can help it. also the one who gives their notes, but those are generally illegible for the common of mortals. only takes the lead in a project if the others are even more freaked out, or else will follow gently and correct errors. goes to class. sometimes brings tea. always hungry but forgets food at home. starts the beginning of the year alone but ends up with new comrades to share the class with. never interacts first. bad at studying, only saved by a good memory and going to motherfucking class and taking notes. leg surely shaking underneath the table. not a student that terrible, just has a few troubles to adapt. terribly anxious for exams, already cried more than once in the bathroom but it’s getting better now.

10. Do you enjoy school?

i enjoy learning. i enjoy having a structure. i hate exams.

11. Favorite subject

last year, it was hispanoamerican culture. but yeah if it involves history, culture, languages, and some philosophy i’ll love that shit.

12. Favorite TV Shows

good omens, supernatural

13. Favorite Movies

i don’t watch enough movies... can’t even remember the last movie i saw...

14. Favorite Books

i read too many books, the first ones to pop out are La Vida de Lazarillo de Tormes y de sus fortunas y adversidades (the first spanish book i enjoyed reading), El beso de la mujer araña, harry potter 3 and le Petit Prince.

15. Favorite Past-time

listening to music, drawing, reading, walking in circles while deep in thoughts, wandering in the woods like the creature i was meant to be, horse trekking, archery, pretending i have everything under control. i was not made to live in this century, clearly

16. Do you have any regrets?

today i seem to feel no regrets, except the one to have abandonned piano and to not have enough money to buy a new keyboard because mine has been broken for more than a year now.

17. Dream Job

writer that actually writes

18. Would you ever get married?

not in church. and kinda need a second person for that. but not in my plans rn. it’s a nice thing to celebrate, though

19. Would you like to have kids?

i’d like to adopt kids, yeah

20. Do you like shopping?

i only like shopping if there’s not a lot of people and if it lasts less than 2h30. after that i’ve hit my limits. no more shopping for the next 4 months if i can help it, even if i’m not that indifferent to clothes.

21. Scariest Nightmare You’ve Had

walking over a bridge and seeing the dead body of my dog in the river (more emotionally upsetting than horrific). not noticing that someone was dead in the alternate reality of real life in my dream and waking up in tears because oh fuck they’re fucking dead oh no oh no but no it was a joke that my brain played on me, no one is dead, yay. walking over a bridge after getting out of a maze and the bridge breaks and falls and i fall too. it’s not really scary but it sure does happen often. i generally don’t remember my dreams and nightmares. bridges are sure a leitmotiv tho

22. Any enemies?

not that i know of. or that i care of.

23. Any significant others?

that would imply talking to people and nope we don’t do that in this house. my only significant ones are indeed my friends and most of the time i don’t know why they put up with me but i love you guys nonetheless

24. Do you believe in miracles?

not really, but i do think there is a lot of things that are interconnected and that we still are not able or are not willing to understand.

25. How are you?

not my best but not my worst. could be way better tho

i tag... @rasgullaa, @talesofahufflepuffgirl, @sorathedreamer, @nurnocheinkeks, @ephemeralsolitude, @smoljoonie, @vtae-hyungs, you’re under no obligation to do this, of course, i just want to know you better, or to get to know you.

[ohprettyweeper-moved]

Happier

Summary: Going on tour with Tyler is a true test of your relationship.  Pairing: Tyler x Reader Word Count:  Warnings: Angst.  Song Inspo: Happier -- Marshmello ft Bastille

It started in London. For the first time ever, Y/N had decided to stay in their hotel room instead of going to the show. When Tyler asked her what was wrong, she promised him that everything was fine. 

“I just need a night off, you know?”

He took her hand. “But I need you.”

Withdrawing her hand, Y/N let out a deep breath. “You don’t need me, Tyler. You say that, but then you get on that stage, and the fans are enough. They’re more than enough.”

“What do you think it is that gets me on that stage?” he countered. 

“You were getting on stages long before I came around.” She dropped onto the bed, picking up the remote to turn on the television and find something to watch. Tears were brimming in her eyes, but she wouldn’t look at him. 

Tyler left then, to meet up with Josh and head to the venue. He pondered Y/N’s behavior the whole time, trying to figure out where all of this was coming from. Her attitude had changed so suddenly, it seemed, and he didn’t know how to handle it. 

“Maybe you need to just ride with it. She’s probably homesick or something,” Josh suggested. 

That was something Tyler could understand. Playing shows worldwide was an amazing experience, but being back in Columbus — that was where he was safe. Where he was grounded. 

After the show was over and he could go back to the hotel room, he quietly entered, afraid to wake Y/N if she had been sleeping. As it was, she was still awake, curled around a pillow, watching TV. A room service tray was set on his side of the bed. Tyler moved it to the small table in the room, and sat beside her on the bed. He brushed her hair back with his fingers and sighed. 

“I’m sorry that I put that burden on you.”

Y/N swallowed hard and sat up. “You’re not a burden, Ty. I love you, with my whole heart. I’m in a funk, I don’t know. I’m sorry.”

“Are you homesick?” Maybe Josh was right. 

“Maybe,” she sighed, falling back against the pillows. 

Tyler nodded and made a hard decision. “Okay. Then let me send you home. I’ll see you there in a couple weeks, and we can be home together again before the South American leg starts.”

Y/N blinked, pushing tears down her cheeks. “Like you think we need a break?”

“No, not at all, I swear,” Tyler promised. “But maybe you need a break from the tour. Not from me, and I don’t need one from you. I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

“I know.” He kissed her sweetly, then reached up to wipe her tears away. “This is the first time you’ve been on tour with me, and I know it’s overwhelming. It’s okay to need a break.”

Y/N sniffled and wiped her tears. “Okay. If you promise you and me are okay, then I’ll take the break and go home.”

“Okay,” Tyler agreed, giving her a small smile. “For now, how about I take a shower, then you’ve got my attention for the rest of the night?”

She sniffled again and nodded. “Do you want me to order you some room service? I didn’t mean to eat without you …”

“Food would be good, and don’t worry about it. Maybe you can get a snack.”

Y/N was already on the phone with room service by the time Tyler turned on the shower. As he stripped down and stepped into the hot water, he found himself already feeling better about their interaction earlier that evening. 

Saying goodbye to her at the Brussels airport was difficult; more difficult than Tyler had expected. Not even a week would pass before they would see each other again, and they both had agreed it wasn’t a break from each other. Still, Tyler feared what would be waiting for him when he returned home after the next few shows. 

“You’ll call everyday? And text me in between?” Y/N made him promise. 

Tyler hooked his pinky with hers. “I promise. Even with the time change. And if you don’t answer, it’s okay.”

“I’ll answer,” she promised before she kissed him. 

“You have everything? Ticket, passport, phone?”

She triple-checked. “I’ve got everything. I’ll call you when I land back in Columbus.”

Tyler kissed her again, harder this time. “I love you, so much.”

“I love you more,” she said, hugging him tight. “See you at home.”

“See you at home,” he returned. 

The next time Tyler talked to her, her voice was noticeably lighter. The tinge of sadness wasn’t there anymore, and she laughed at a joke he made. 

She laughed. 

Tyler hadn’t realized it until then, but months had passed since he had last heard her truly laugh. A chuckle here and there, maybe a small laugh as a courtesy, but not that genuine, from-the-heart laugh that he so loved hearing. And when was the last time she had smiled? The real kind of smile, the kind where her dimples showed. There had been smirks, polite smiles, even smiles that showed her teeth, but didn’t reach her eyes. 

These thoughts plagued Tyler over the next few days. Maybe the problem had been only the tour, but Y/N was so much happier away from the tour. He didn’t take it personally, but he knew exactly what he needed to do. 

When she came to pick him up at the airport, Tyler hugged her tight. He breathed in her smell, kissed her, and fell in love all over again. For just a moment, he considered changing his mind. He considered toughing it out, figuring a way to make tour life easier for her. 

But only for a moment. 

He asked her to stop at the park near his parents’ house after they left the airport. It was a nice day out, though a little chilly, so Y/N didn’t seem to think much of his request. She pulled into a spot and went round to the front of the car, holding her hand out to him, waiting anxiously for him to lace his fingers through hers. 

“I missed you,” she told him, leaning against his shoulder when they found a bench near the playground. “How were the last few shows?”

“They were good. I missed you.” He looked down at her; even her skin seemed brighter. Her hair seemed shinier, more full. “How was it being home?”

Y/N filled her lungs, and a smile tugged at her mouth. “It was great. Just the break I needed. I think South America is going to be easier, you know? I don’t know why, but I think I’m ready for it.”

Tyler sighed and nudged her a little with his elbow so that she would sit up and he could look her in the eye. “I don’t know, Y/N. Think about how miserable you were before you came home. And it wasn’t just that night, was it? That was only things coming to a head. Everything you love is here. You’ve got strong roots in your home.”

“So do you,” she frowned, already suspicious of what he was saying. “And I love you. I want to be where you are.”

“I know that you love me. That’s probably one of the few things I’ve never doubted in my life. But I’m not sure you’re ready for a life with me, Y/N. Touring, traveling — that’s my life. It’s not going to change, not for a long time. We’re either looking at you being miserable for a year or more every few years, or spending a year apart every few years. Either way, I don’t think you would be happy. And I want you to be happy, Y/N. That’s all I’ve ever wanted, where you’re concerned.”

Her chin quivered and her eyes glazed over. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying that I think we both know, and have known for a while, that we love each other and we’re happy when we’re together, but if we stay together, one or both of us isn’t going to be happy.” Tyler swallowed down the lump in his own throat. “I’m saying that I think, in order for you to be happy, I need to walk away from this.”

Some strange sound between a squeak and a sob escaped her throat, and she leaned into him. She didn’t protest, which told Tyler he had made the right choice. He let some tears fall, too, while he held her there on that park bench. 

“Did you ask me to come here so you could be close to your parents’ and walk home after?” she asked once the crying was under control, for the time being. 

Tyler shrugged. “I didn’t want to ask you to take me home, but I didn’t want the bad memory for either of us at our place. I want you to just have happy memories there. I’ll crash with my parents or Josh till I can find a place.”

Y/N nodded and stood. “Okay. Will you — I don’t want to be selfish, but will you let me leave first? I’m not saying you’re wrong, and maybe we’ll figure this out at another time. But I don’t think I can watch you leave me.”

“Fair enough,” Tyler whispered, stealing one more chaste kiss before following her to the car to get his bags. He shut the trunk and turned to her. “I really do love you, Y/N.”

“I know,” she said, starting to cry again. “Me too. I love you, too.”

Tyler held out his arm to her, and she fell against his chest for the last time. He hugged her tight, kissed her forehead, then stood out of the way so she could back out of the parking stall and head towards home. 

[lazulifoster]

An Unexpected Visitor (Loki X Reader) Part 2

Prompt: Sex by The 1975, Million Dollar Man by Lana Del Rey, and If I Never See Your Face Again by Maroon 5 feat Rihanna

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Warnings: Swearing; angst; arguing; mild sexual content

Word Count: 3k+

A/N: Inspiration from my Spotify Playlist again lol I think I say this every time I post something but sorry if its a slow burn, I actually have a lot of ideas for this fic but I like a slow build ;) Hope you enjoy part 2 if there are typos, from the bottom of my heart, my bad :)

Brief Summary: Loki and you dated back in college before he up and vanished. You have moved on with your life, even started a family, but an unexpected visitor makes his way back into your life.

||5 years earlier||

“Shall I compare thee to a summers day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate.” “Loki…” “Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks, but bears it out, even to the edge of doom.”

Loki.” “…by heaven, I think my love as rare as any she belied with false compare.” “LOKI!  I’m going to fail this quiz if you don’t shut up and quit reciting Shakespeare!” “Oh, hush, love. There is no reason to study, anyway. You know all the answers already.”

“I just want to double check and make sure. Because last time this happened, I practically failed my quiz.” “I seriously doubt you’re capable of failure, Y/N. Besides, your beauty alone deserves to be glorified at every waking moment.” “ Oh pleeease, your flattery won't work this time.” “Won’t it?” Loki leaned in close to me, placing gentle kisses along my neck, causing my will to study to wane dramatically.

Loki then pushed my notes and books of my bed, and we both rapidly undressed, making me completely forget about my upcoming quiz.

************************

“You better start fucking explaining yourself, Loki!”

I began a feeble attempt to reel in the myriad of thoughts flooding my mind. My emotions were a chaotic blend of utter confusion and absolute joy. Loki was here, in the flesh; holding me, kissing me, and telling me we belonged together.

I had pictured this moment so many times over the years, and nothing was happening like I had imagined it. But as much as I missed Loki and secretly yearned for his over the years, reality slowly crept in. Loki was gone far too long to go without explaining himself. I needed answers. Lots of answers.

“My love, I promise you, I will explain everything, but this is hardly the time or place—” “Oh no, no, I am not playing games with you Loki! The “time and place” is right now! You’re the one who left and decided to just randomly show up out of nowhere!” My voice cracked, and I forced myself to hold back more tears, annoyed at myself for getting emotional again.

“I need to know what happened to you, Loki. You owe me that much.”

I could see Loki felt guilty. I knew that behind his devil-may-care attitude and playful demeanor he felt awful for deserting me. I started to feel sorry for getting heated with him again. The Loki I knew would never just leave without a legitimate reason. But suspicious thoughts kept lurking in my head. He’s just trying to manipulate you. I shook the feeling aside, I already had too much to think about. I reached up and rubbed my hand through his beautiful black hair.

“I’m sorry, Loki. I’m just—I don’t know, there is a lot to take in.”

Loki gave a slight grin, placing both of his hands on my waist.

“As much as I’d love to chat with you about everything that's happened, darling, your mum has prepared something for dinner that smells absolutely delicious, and it would be a shame to let all her hard work go to waste.”

I gave a slight chuckle. Loki was right. If I wanted to know the full story, it would be best to wait till my parents and ex weren’t around. Also, I hadn’t eaten all my food at the restaurant with David, so I was actually quite hungry as well.

“Fine. But this isn’t over.” I reminded Loki. He nodded and leaned forward and gave me a soft peck on my forehead before both of us walked in the house. Neither my mom, dad, or David noticed Loki had ever left; still speaking with his illusion.

“Did you find what you were looking for?” Mom asked suspiciously

“Oh yeah—um—no I didn’t.” I stumbled over my words like a nervous school girl. Keep it together.

Rachel waddled up to me babbling what sounded like, “Mama.” She wasn’t really speaking yet, but her little attempts always made me so proud. I picked her up off the floor, and she looked around at us five adults standing around talking. Rachel’s eyes met Loki’s, to which Loki made a silly face at Rachel, causing her to laugh loudly. The brief moment between them made me and my parents chuckle. Seeing Loki interact with Rachel made my heart melt; it was almost too adorable for me to handle. The sweet moment ended abruptly however when I looked over at David and saw an irritated scowl cross his face. Knowing David’s temper, I cleared my throat to break the building tension.

“So…what did you make for dinner, mom?” “Oh, just some roast chicken with mash potatoes and Brussel sprouts, nothing fancy.”

“A regular feast, I cannot wait to try, Mrs. Y/L/N.” Loki smiled

“Well, come on in the dining room then, we don’t want the food getting cold.” Mom began ushering us to the dinner table.

“I already ate,” David interjected.

Mom, still walking away, yelled behind her, “Well I guess you can go home then, David.”

My dad laughed from the dining room at my mom’s sassy comment, making David looked at me and whispered, “What the hell?”

"It’s ok, we’ll talk later. I’ll text you.”

David gave me an annoyed look but decided it would be better to leave before he left my parent's good graces entirely. David gave Rachel a quick kiss goodbye and made a quiet exit.

When David left, all of us inadvertently let out a collective sigh of relief.

“Finally got him out of here, goodness gracious,” Dad grumbled.

“Dad, can we not…”

“I just want a relaxing family dinner with all of, it’s been too long.” Mom was beaming. Sometimes I wondered if mom loved Loki more than I do.

Did.

My mind was still an absolute whirlwind. Barely an hour ago, David and I were at dinner, talking about our daughter’s future and reconsidering where our relationship stood. Then I see Loki’s car in my parent's driveway with his stupid “God of Mischief” vanity plates, next thing I know were kissing, uprooting so many feelings I had pushed down over the last 3 years; and now Loki was eating dinner at my house like we had years ago. My emotions were a constant ebb and flow or fury, and affection One moment, I suppressed every urge I had to cause a scene and demand answers from Loki. The next, I wanted Loki to take me in his arms again and to pick up where we had left off. I still couldn’t comprehend how someone who I spent almost every day with since I was 18 to just suddenly vanished. I mean, I knew about Loki being a god. I knew about his brother, Asgard, and the Avengers. I didn’t know everything, but he had told me bits and pieces and opened up to me over the years. I also knew he would have to leave occasionally concerning “family squabbles” and things concerning the Avengers, but he would always let me know ahead of time and would even send his illusion to check in on me.

The leading theory I had settled on for Loki leaving was I thought I scared him off because of the last conversation we had. Petty, I know, but I couldn’t think of anything else it could possibly be.

I remembered every detail about our last conversation, probably because I played the moment repeatedly, trying to figure out what went wrong.

It was almost the end of the semester. Loki and I were in a local coffee shop, close enough to the college to walk, but not close enough where it was bombarded by other collegians studying for finals. Loki was actually helping me study for my other classes besides literature. I was studying for a freshman world geography class, an easy elective I took to boost my GPA. We had both ordered our drinks (Loki drank an Italian roast, black, and I had a cortado.)

While he was helping me study the countries of the Eastern Hemisphere, I looked up at him.

“Do you think you’ll ever get married? Or have kids?”

While Loki took a sip of his coffee, his eyes quickly shifted to me.

“I mean, one day. I’m not saying to me—or anything—um, I was just curious. Plus I’m bored of studying.” I gave an awkward laugh, trying to hide my cheeks turning a bright shade of crimson.

Loki bit his lip and tilted his head up and looked off in the distance. I felt like I could actually see wheels turning in his head. Then he spoke.

“I honestly cannot answer that.”

“Oh…”

“Well, I don’t know, truthfully. Marriage seems so, arbitrary to me. Especially, as a god, time means nothing to me, but to Midgardians, time is so precious, so you decide one person to spend that time with until your dying breath. So if I were to marry an Asgardian, I would be tied to them for possibly, millennia. And if I was to marry a Midgardian, they will have already lived a quarter of their life. I’ve been alive far too long and have learned there is no point in getting attached to something I cannot keep.”

He spoke so matter-of-factly that it almost brought me to tears. Was that all I was to him? A mere mortal with 25% of my life over. I felt foolish for thinking I could be more to him than a Midgardian “friend with benefits.”

Pretending not to be hurt, however, I nodded nonchalantly as I listened to his rant and took a sip of my drink. He continued.

“I could see myself having children though, one day.”

“So you can’t see yourself getting married, but you can see yourself having children? Alrighty then.” I laughed, accidentally letting my hurt feelings slip into my reply.

“Do you see a problem with that, love?”

“No, not at all, to each his own. So kids huh?” He looked at me and gave me a rueful grin. 

“I would love to give my children the childhood I always craved.”

I gave a sympathetic groan and reached out for his arm and gave him a gentle squeeze. I didn’t want to press the issue further. I knew how sensitive he was about the subject. After a few moments, Loki spoke again, looking directly into my eyes.

“Did you ask me that, because I am someone you would want to marry?”

My eyes inadvertently widened and swallowed a little harder than necessary. I felt a little uneasy because Loki refused to break eye contact with me.

“Honestly, Loki…” I felt instant nausea from my nerves.

“Yes?”

“You are someone I want to marry. Why wouldn’t I? You’re amazing, you’re well read, you’re kind, but more importantly, you’re my best friend, of course, you’re someone I would want to fucking marry! I don’t care if I’ve ‘lived a quarter of my life’ already if you love someone you choose to love them no matter what!” I spoke a little louder than I intended too because a few coffee shop patrons turned their heads toward our table.

Loki chuckled at my obvious embarrassment. I gave an awkward half-smile and placed my hands on my face as if trying to wipe away my blushing cheeks. Loki grinned at me and brushed a few strands of hair away from my face before he spoke again.

“Well, darling, I am very flattered.” He placed a gentle kiss on my forehead. “Now how about we get back to studying? You need to do well on your exam.”

The quick change of subject confused me for a second before I agreed with him and I began to study for my exam again. After a while, I was ready to go call it a day. Loki offered to give me a ride home, but I initially declined and told him I’d walk; partly because that day was uncharacteristically mild for winter and I wanted to enjoy the lovely weather; also I was extremely embarrassed about the conversation we had inside the coffee shop. But Loki insisted that he take me home and I, not in a mood to argue, I caved. The car ride was awkward, neither of us said anything the whole trip which generally wouldn’t be all that unusual, but because the conversation did not go as planned on my part, I felt that maybe I had crossed the line. When Loki finally reached my driveway, he parked his car and looked at me.

“Y/n, I want to apologize if what I said hurt you. Please don’t misunderstand me, I care for you deeply. I may not know what the future holds but what I know for certain is that you belong to me, and I belong to you, no matter what happens.”

I smiled at him, exhaling a breath I held in the whole car ride; thankful for his reassurance. Loki and I never had any labels in our relationship which was alright for the most part because I knew he cared for me, but every once in a while it was nice to hear him tell me how he felt. Even if he did think marriage was just a quirky Midgardian tradition. But one part of what he said caught me off guard: ‘No matter what happens’”? What does that mean? Ultimately, I shook it off as me being too analytical and leaned in to kiss Loki.

“I love you too, Loki.”

I stepped out of his car and waved back at him, “See you tomorrow!”

He waved back at me and drove off. That was the last time I saw or spoke to Loki.

********************

Dinner with Loki and my parents went as well as expected. The meal mom prepared was delicious, Rachel only threw half of her food on the floor, and mom and dad bombarded Loki with questions.

“So where have you been, Loki? We were starting to worry about ya.” Dad said, giving Loki a pat on his back.

“I have been rather busy with work, I’ve done a little bit of traveling, and also spending time with my family.”

I rolled my eyes. I swear to god he better not lie to me like that when he accounts for the last few years.

“Well, it’s good to have you back, Sweetheart.” Mom cut in, “Will we see more of you?”

Loki looked over at me when he answered, “Yes indeed. I’m not going anywhere as long as I can help it.”

I rolled my eyes again, trying to hide the smile forming on my lips.

Once dinner was over, leftovers and dishes put away, My parents said their “goodnights” and left for bed. I also excused myself for a brief moment, needing to get Rachel ready for bed. Before I carried Rachel to her room, Loki reached for Rachel’s little hand, “Goodnight little love, thank you for showing me all your toys this evening.” Rachel babbled incoherently and gave Loki a smile showing all the teeth she had.

“I think somebody likes you” I smirked, “Say ‘thank you Loki for playing with me’”

Rachel babbled again while Loki lowered himself to her eye level, giving her his undivided attention.

“Well, it was my pleasure, Rachel. Have pleasant dreams.”

I  left and tucked Rachel into her little bed, and she fell asleep shortly after. As she slept, I stared at her for a moment before heading back to the living room. I thought about how adorable Loki was with my daughter. Interacting with children seemingly came so naturally to him. I also wished that David would be the same way with Rachel. He was a great father in that he worked hard to provide for her, but that was the only way David showed he loved her, especially after we parted ways. David wouldn’t play with her, and would hardly make time to spend time alone with her. He blamed work for not being around Rachel as often as he should. David worked for his father’s law firm. Influential attorneys defending the most guilty and the richest. I know Rachel was far too young to understand the nuances of a father/daughter relationship, but whenever David would walk past her or halfheartedly acknowledge her, I could see in her little eyes, that it hurt her.

I made my way back to the living room and saw Loki sitting on the couch, waiting for me. He stood when I re-entered the room and made his way toward me.

“I should probably get going, I know we could all use a restful nights sleep.”

“We still need to talk—”

“I haven’t forgotten,” Loki gently interrupted, “Why don’t we meet in the morning for breakfast, we can go anywhere you want to go.”

“Well, my parents can’t watch Rachel tomorrow, they both have something they have to go to, so if we go anywhere, Rachel will have to come.”

Loki’s face lit up, “That sounds delightful! We shall make a day out of it then.” His hand reached down placed his palm on my face like he had earlier. This time I didn’t swat him away, instead, I wrapped my arms around him. I missed feeling his body against mine. Loki pulled me in closer and rested his chin on top of my head.

Sadly we were interrupted by my phone vibrating. I pulled my phone out of my pocket and saw a text from David reading: Hey, we need to finish talking when you get a chance. We couldn’t with that guy hanging around. Text me back ASAP.

I groaned. Loki peaked at David’s message and scoffed,“‘That guy’? Charming.”

“You have no idea,” I replied, more to myself than Loki.

Loki’s face turned concerned, “What do you mean?”

“Ugh, he’s just—sometimes he’s a dick, but otherwise he’s alright. He makes sure Rachel is taken care of, so that’s all I care about.” Giving me a dubious look, I reassured Loki that I was fine and that David was just annoying sometimes. Reaching for my hand, Loki made his way toward the front door.

“Well, I better go, love. I look forward to spending the day with you and Rachel.” Loki pulled me close and kissed me on the lips before closing the door behind him. I peeked out the front window and saw him stoop down into his car, rev his engine, and drive off. What have you been up to, Loki Odinson?

**************

David, back at his penthouse apartment, reclined in his Eames chair, sipping away at bourbon and fiddled with his phone. He had searched the name “Loki Odinson” over and over on Google but only found references to Norse Mythology.

Who the fuck is this guy?

David exited his Google Search and began scrolling through his contact list until he found the name, Darren. He pressed the call icon and waited for him to answer.

“Hey David, you’re up late.” “Darren. I have a favor to ask.” “Anything Chief, what do you need?” “I need you to look into someone for me, the name: ‘Loki Odinson.’”

“You got it, boss. I’ll see what I can find.”

Darren ended the call, and David went to his iPhone photo album. He scrolled through his pictures until he found an old picture of Y/N.

This stupid bitch better be careful. She’s gonna get her heart broken all over again.

Taglist: 

@imasultforlokiandspencerreid 

@crescent-night

@portietomednalynn

[mayazen]

"The only thoughts" chp 2

Hey guys I'm so sorry this is really late, I got hella sick recently and I'm trying to keep to a schedule again anyway here it is

Edward stood there for a moment, watching the german doctor leave. He wasn't used to such open bluntness from a colleague, he appreciated it. Most people try to suck up to the doctor and be polite. The honestly was nice for once. He wrapped his scarf around his neck and waiting at the street for a cab.

          Henrik walked slowly into his apartment and  turned on his light. He hung up his coat and walked into the kitchen. He looked over to the clock on the oven which read 12:42. He debated calling his daughter before her school start when suddenly his phone began to ring. “Speak of the devil” he said to himself. He picked up the phone and answered. “Hallo meine liebling! Wie geht es dir?”

         “Morgen dad, I'm good, very tired but good” replied Sofie

         “I'm glad to hear you're doing well in your English, how about the rest of your classes?”

         “I'm doing just fine in everything” she replied with a laugh.

         “Even chemistry? Because last I heard-”

         “VATI! look I'm doing better in it! Chris has been helping me in it” her voice trailed off

         They both sat in silence for a minute before Henrik asked “Is that his name, Chris?” Sofia didn't respond “ listen it's been almost a year Maine liebling, I expect her to be dating again.”

         “Ja” she said after a minute. “He is a professor at one of the college's here, used to teach in Brussels.”

          “Is she happy?”

          “ papa, please don't ask me that. You already know the answer to it.”

         “....at least she's happy, that's all i want for your mother. Please send her my love.”

         “ do you want to say hello, she just downstairs I can get her-”

         “No it's getting late, I must sleep.” He sighed. “I love you so very much”

         “Ich liebe dich meinem vater”

         Sofia hung up the phone and left Henrik alone once more with only the ringing from the phone left. His wife and him had grown apart as Sofie got older until they couldn't take it anymore and his wife filed for divorce. He so desperately wanted to try and work it out with her but she was set in her ways. That's what originally drew her to Henrik, she was so passionate about her beliefs and despite being stubborn, she was often right. He got up from his couch and opened the door to his kitchen and went to fridge. He grabbed the first bottle he could find and poured a drink

          After an hour he was finishing off the remainder of the bottle. Henrik. Walked over to his bedroom and just layed there staring at the ceiling.

          “Sixteen fucking years, and for what?” He said softly to himself. “we dealt with everything and then one day she calls it quits! At least this shitty apartment is the one thing she cant take from me. This is all my own, this closed off empty apartment that I now call home.” He laid there for a while till he finally fell asleep.

           He woke to the abrasively loud alarm with a headache. He checked his phone to see the time: five AM. He slopilly got dressed and rushed out the door. As soon as he got outside he was struck with the realization of how bright it was outside. The cars sounded like fire alarms and the birds sounded like they were screaming instead of singing. He got in his car and grabbed a pair of sunglasses and started to drive to the hospital.

           “God did you see Dr Schneeplestein this morning?” “How could I miss him the man looks like death!” Dr iplier looked up from one of his patients charts to hear some residents talking about the new German doctor.

            “Wonder how much he drank last night?”

            “Where is he, I need to ask him some questions about a surgery he did.” Asked Doctor Iplier.

             “Last time I saw him he was a floor up in the burns ward, he was supposed to talk with a doctor how bad the burn was on a patient's leg and if it need to be taken off.

              After the nurse told him where to find Henrik, he went out looking for him. He took an elevator upstairs where he saw Dr Schneeplestein sitting outside of one of the rooms with his head in his hands and sunglasses on his head. He doesn't notice Edward until he was standing right in front of him.

   ��         “Morgen Dr Iplier” Henrik groaned, putting the sunglasses on his face. “What may I help you with?” He looked very much out of it, his hair was barley combed and he was wearing the shirt he wore the day before.

              “I heard you looked like shit, and boy were they right.” He laughed. “The actual reason I came up here was because I admired your honesty last night and so I wanted to get you a coffee, and I think you need it now more than ever.”

               Henrik sat there for a moment before replying with a laugh “I don't think I've had any today so sure, let's grab some.”

               “So what made you choose to even take this job, your over qualified to be here?” Asked Edward taking a sip of his coffee.

                “In all honesty I just wanted to get out of Germany and I took the first job that offered. I did the same with my apartment. I regret the apartment more than the job, it's too cramped and too many walls. My wife would have hated it” he paused for a minute “ My ex wife. We split around a year ago. But that's not a story for now, how about you why are you here?”

                “It paid well and it was near where my wife worked at the time, now she works across town.” “Ah so your married?” Dr Iplier laughed “At this point we rarely see each other and when we do, we're fighting. However I love her so I'm willing to deal with it” He finished his coffee.

                 Henrik sat there for a moment before telling him “not to bring you down that's how it was right before the end of my relationship, sixteen years and then she just gave up.”

                 Edward smiled for a moment and said “she won't leave me, she loves money too much.” Just then a beeping noise was heard. Edward looked down and checked his beeper “looks like an regular needs me, he's here pretty often, glad to see him but I think he’d be happier if he could see me” he laughed. “Oh wait you probably never met him, he doesn't have eyes, can't see. Anyway, it was great to talk to you I'll see you around.” He smiled and turned to leave