#then they got put on hold for a few months and suddenly now the shortage is over the rat is also back.... it makes me feel a bit crazy

[phagodyke]

the fucking rat is back in our flat 😭

[invincible-selfxmade-punk]

Looks like I am still without my ADD meds.

I was supposed to get back on them at the first of the school year having taken the summer off. However the coral dress went pushed everything back. Then because I was off my ADD meds I miss my next three doctors appointments. Finally got in to see the doctor no problem got it all filled ready to go. I get a text from Walmart saying it is in and I go to pick it up.

I get there and they say oh we don't have any ----there is a nationwide shortage you might want to talk to your doctor about that.

I know there is a nationwide shortage.

I am a teacher and all of our ADHD kids are running wild because their parents cannot get a hold of the proper meds. I'm well aware of this.

But why send me a text and tell me you have my medication when you actually do not?!

My doctor is actually leaving and I'm being transferred to another doctor so now I've got to play Russian Roulette of doctors and see what doctor I can get a hold of and what doctor is actually going to try to help me. All I want to do is be able to remember things.

Next up on what I call the WTF scale:

I have a very dear friend that has been my best friend for 42 years.

She moved away our sophomore year of high school and we have kept up with each other one way or another ever since. Lately though because of school I have not been able to message her on Facebook like I used to.

So a few days ago I had enough time to put up a massive massive message to her via voice text. I told her everything has been happening in the last 4 months:

Everything at school, the testing, the costume days, halloween, and then I told her about the suicide of my friend Ben and a horrible that had been and everything that went with that. I told her about the four field trips I was forced to go on and a bunch of other stuff.

2 days later I got a response and simply said:

I still love you even though we never talk.

WHAT TGE HELL WAS I JUST DOING????

And the top everything off almost all of my dreams last night were of high school, a place I have not been since 1989, and all the cool kids that I wanted to be friends with suddenly inviting me to their parties.

[ragingbookdragon]

Love Bites (But So Do I) PT. 2

Justice League x Reader One-shot

Word Count: 2.3K Warnings: Explicit Language

Author's Note: Aye, we're back with another Skyrim!Reader fic! Enjoy! -Thorne

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

It’d been close to a year since she’d joined the Justice League, and though the original members were a tightknit group, they’d welcomed her with open arms. Some of them were still wary about her, but for the most part, she was doing well within their ranks, especially when it came to being around Bruce or Hal. Given her longevity, she’d seen men like them before, known how to get along with them. Bruce she could meet on equal footing, Hal was simply a man that had to be shown who was in charge; it didn’t take much to make Hal crack under her authority, and in mere days, she had him wrapped around her fingers—Bruce too, but he’d never outright admit it to her face, or anyone else’s, even if a gun was put to his head.

She didn’t particularly fight much when they went on missions, preferring to be backup as well as their combat medic, a job she did well. She’d sewn up most of them without a blink of an eye, and while the first time she sewed Bruce’s wounds up, Clark and Diana stood beside to watch in case she tried to feed, they quickly learned, not only through her own comment but also his, that she wasn’t going to harm anyone.

Barry liked her. Or at least he enjoyed speaking with her. He found her ten thousand years of experience interesting, the history of her life, the survival of it. They’d spent hours talking about the past, hers and his from going back in time often. She enjoyed puzzling the poor scientist with magic. Barry wasn’t one to follow the whole “It’s magic” sermon; he wanted scientific evidence, hypothesis and experiments to prove how sparks, fire, and frost flowed from her fingertips like water. How natural it was for her as if it were like breathing.

She liked Barry. Liked to help him through personal issues. Her many years had given her experience in most subjects of life. Spurned lovers, betrayal of friends, death, life, all of it. There wasn’t anything she couldn’t help with, the League had come to find out. Sometimes, she even helped, and she didn’t even realize it.

***

It was one of the routine meetings for the month; she sat next between Diana and Hal, trying to focus on the words coming out of Bruce’s mouth but all she could hear was the quiet rumbling coming beneath them. What was she hearing? A broken pipe in the ceiling? Air hissing from a crack in a window, perhaps? No, it seemed to be coming from the table. But what was it? Nothing was shaking the foundation. What—

“(Y/N), is something wrong?”

She cocked her head up, realizing she’d pressed her face to the table in hopes she could listen closer to the noise; clearing her throat, she felt the eyes of the group on her. “Apologies,” she excused. “There’s…there is something I keep hearing under your voice. It’s…distracting.”

Her eyes found Clark’s. “Listen for a moment and see if you can hear it.”

They waited, everyone holding their breath, and when the rumbling came again, her eyes widened. “See! That! What is that!”

Clark held his hand up to say wait and she fell silent, letting him listen of for a few more moments, and then he cracked a smile and laughed.

“What? Why are you laughing?” she questioned. “What is it?”

“It’s Barry’s stomach,” he chuckled, nodding at the Speedster who suddenly flushed.

“Sorry,” he said. “I didn’t know you guys could hear it.” He laughed nervously. “It’s past my usual snack time so I’m really hungry.”

“I’ve got you,” Hal replied, digging in his bomber pocket to pull out a candy bar. “Snickers?”

“Ooo!” Barry chirped, taking it from him with a, “Thank you. I forgot to pack snacks when I left the house today.”

“Bar, one day, you’re gonna keel over from hunger because you forget. I swear, your memory is just as bad as your lateness.”

“God, don’t remind me,” Barry snickered.

(Y/N) hummed, eyes lingering on Barry for a moment before she turned to Bruce. “Sorry for the interruption. Please, continue.”

Bruce didn’t skip a beat, but she kept the thought of Barry in the back of her mind.

***

A couple hours later, the meeting had ended, and she caught up with Barry and Hal as they left. “Barry, a moment of your time, please? There’s something I wish to discuss with you.”

Hal waved the two off and continued to the Zeta tubes, leaving them and Barry smiled, “What’s up, (Y/N)?”

“How often do you eat?”

Hello left field with that question.

“I—what?”

“Consuming sustenance,” she reiterated. “How often do you do it?”

Barry shuffled on his feet, scratching at the back of his head. “Well…my metabolism burns through food like Hal does jet fuel.” He saw her cocked eyebrow and unimpressed look and immediately said, “I need to eat roughly 4.8 million calories a day.”

Her eyes went wide and for a moment she simply gaped at him, then she recovered and shook her head. “Divines, you eat a lot of food.”

“Yeah,” Barry chuckled. “Only downside of being a Speedster besides seeing the world in slow motion.”

“Forensic scientists make between forty and one-hundred-thousand a year. Is it possible for you to afford the nutrition you need to adequately feed yourself?”

Just like that, she hit a sore spot because Barry stilled, a remarkable feat, and his cheeks tinted red; she heard the stutter in his heart rate, noted the way he looked around uncomfortably. “I…Bruce…helps me sometimes.” He shifted nervously. “High calorie protein bars are the easiest to manufacture in massive quantities. I need them most nights.”

“So, you can’t afford the amount of food you need?” (Y/N) hummed, eyes narrowing as she brought her hand to her face, rubbing her chin thoughtfully. “I’m going home for the evening,” she suddenly blurted out. “Come back here tomorrow around the same time. I’ll have something for you that will help with your food shortage.”

As she walked off, Barry grabbed her arm, pleading, “Wait, (Y/N), don’t. I can’t take money from you.”

“I never said anything about money,” she corrected, removing his arm. “I merely said for you to come back, and I’ll have something for you.” She winked. “Relax Barry. I’m not going to tell the world your secrets.”

***

He stood in the center of the area where he was supposed to meet (Y/N), had been standing there for an hour, but then again, she was only fifteen minutes late and he forty-five minutes early. Barry glanced at his watch when a buzzing started in his pocket; he pulled his phone out and saw her caller ID, lifting it to his ear. “Hello?”

Barry! Sorry for calling late. That thing I’m looking for is taking a bit longer than I expected it to. Do you think you could come to my home in Gotham? I’ve already called ahead and let Bruce know you’d be in city limits.

“Oh, yeah,” he answered. “I’ll be right there.”

Good! Travel safely!

It’d taken him all of ten seconds to get from the Watchtower to her house and Barry almost shit his pants when he saw it. It reminded him of Hagrid’s house but slightly wider and with multiple conjoined buildings to it. He walked up to the front door, hyping himself up to grab the brass doorknocker that resembled a demonic skull. When he knocked on the door, nothing happened, then the locks flipped and it opened, creaking on its hinges like a cheap eighty’s horror film, but it did the trick because Barry was scared out of his mind when all he saw was a darkened room lit up only by a candle holder on a table in the middle.

“I’m in the back!” a voice called from inside. “Fang is coming to greet you! He’s bringing Nevermore!”

Nevermore was the bird. He remembered that one, but who was Fang?

His question was answer by a giant mastiff came bounding from an opening to the hallway and Barry almost jumped a foot in the air; it looked terrifying, but he merely whined and shoved his head into Barry’s palm, waiting to be scratched behind his ears.

He relented, giving Fang a good ear-scratch, and smiled as Nevermore hopped up his arm to sit on his shoulder.

“Hungry!” he croaked. “Want snacks!”

Barry dug around in his pocket, finding a half-eaten granola bar. “Granola?” he offered, holding up a piece and Nevermore swiped it with a quick snap of his beak.

“Come in!”

“(Y/N), where are you?”

“In the back!” she called. “I told you that already!”

“I meant where!” Barry laughed, coming to the hallway. It split down two sides, one going to the right the other left. The right opened to what looked like a studio. The left went down and had two doors on the wall, what were bedrooms, and at the end of the hall was a study.

“Bedroom!” she answered, and Barry walked down the left, stopping at the second door that was creaked open.

He saw (Y/N) laying over her bed, digging for something on the opposite side away from him. “(Y/N)?”

“Come in,” she said, listening to him walk around to see her. “I forgot I shoved this underneath her a long time ago when I was cleaning things out.”

“How long is a long time ago?”

“Hmm…American Revolution? Give or take a decade or so?” she waved it off, pulling out what looked like an antique drawstring bag, about the size of a dinner plate; she held it up and patted the bed beside her with her free hand. “This is going to solve all your food problems,” (Y/N) announced, watching him sit down.

“Uh…how so?”

She placed it in his lap. “Think of your absolute favorite snack food. Chips or cookies or something.”

He did.

“Now…reach into the bag and pull it out.”

Barry’s brows furrowed as he reached in the bag, and she knew he’d found them because his eyes went wide, and he pulled out a snack pack of cookies. “What the—”

“Magic food purse,” (Y/N) explained. “Found it one day when I was exploring.” She took it back and reached into it, pulling out a thin tray of expertly wrapped sushi. “It’s really helpful when you’re traveling and can’t carry massive amounts of food around with you.”

Barry watched her pop one in her mouth; he knew damn well that sushi wasn’t in there when he reached inside. He swiped the bag from her and opened it, peering inside, but all he saw was a dark, stretching expanse. “That’s not possible,” he breathed. “There’s nothing in here.”

“It’s magic,” (Y/N) snorted, reaching in to pull out a frosted chocolate cupcake. “Anything you can imagine eating or drinking? It will come out.”

“That’s not scientifically possible!” Barry stressed, trying to shove his head into the bag. There had to be some gimmick to it. A transporter! Something!

“Why is it so hard for you to accept that some things in this universe can’t be explained by science?” she stared at him. “For Divines’ sake, Barry, your best friend is a man who wields a magic ring. You run faster than the speed of light.”

“There’s science behind some of that!”

“Not much.”

“But there is science! Here—there’s nothing!” Barry was having a crisis. “I don’t know how this works. I don’t understand.”

(Y/N) smiled and folded the bag up, gently stowing it in Barry’s jacket pocket. “It’s not about understanding, Barry, it’s about accepting that there are some things you won’t ever understand.” Her eyes crinkled at the edges. “That bag will never run out of magic. You can think all the food and drinks into existence and never run out of food again.”

She reached up and cupped his cheek. “No more high calorie meal bars unless you have to eat them. No more worrying about putting money aside to make sure you have enough to eat. No more relying on others to keep yourself from going hungry.” (Y/N) whispered comfortingly, “No more fear. No more worries.”

Barry felt the lump rise in his throat. He’d never admitted it, not even to Hal, but he worried constantly about keeping fed. Worried that money wouldn’t come in, that he’d go hungry, that something worse would happen. All the nights he’d laid in bed and had to roll over on an empty stomach because he couldn’t afford to buy more or eat what he’d planned for tomorrow then. All the skipping meals, all the exhaustion, all the worry. Gone in moments.

He felt her thumb under his eye, and he looked into her umber ones, seeing her smile softly as she wiped away another tear. She didn’t say anything, merely gazing at him and Barry leaned into her palm, reaching up to cup her hand closer to his cheek. “Thank you,” he managed through the lump in his throat. “I don’t know how to repay you for—”

“Shhh,” (Y/N) hushed, pressing her thumb to his lips. “There’s nothing to repay anyone for. I did this for you, Barry, not so you’d owe me.” She pulled away from him and rose from the bed, looking back. “Now, if you’d like a moment to yourself, I understand. But I was planning on making dinner. Would you like to stay the night?”

“You don’t mind?” Barry asked. “I wouldn’t want to intrude.”

She glanced over her shoulder with a wink, flashing those pretty white fangs in a smile as she flirted, “Stay all you want, Barry. I won’t bite…yet.” She left Barry in the room, heart pounding in his chest, but not from fear—from excitement and anticipation.

[mamabearcatfanfics]

Battle Couple

I've had this little idea for a while, and then decided I could bend it slightly to fit this year's @inukag-week's first battle couple prompt. Because not all battles we face have to be huge ones against a deadly foe. Sometimes the battles can simply be standing up for what's right.

Inuyasha dragged the beanie down tighter over his head, stomping towards the exit of the store. He hated this. This is why he bought things online and had them delivered. Because then he could avoid interactions like he’d just had with that racist arsehole. He glanced down at the text from Sesshoumaru again, wondering if there was some other way he could get this gift for Rin. It was the first time his half-brother had thrown a birthday party for his adopted daughter, and no doubt it would be a big deal.

Rin has expressed an interest in this item. Her birthday party is on Saturday at 10am. Do not be late.

And of course the toy Rin had asked for was sold out everywhere online. The tiny dolls with light up dresses and a matching crystal necklace were apparently ‘the’ toy at the moment. She specifically wanted the purple one, the ‘hope’ doll, because it was her favourite colour, and she already had the other dolls in the set. This was the last one she needed. And he hadn’t been able to find it anywhere. He was failing as an Uncle. The last store he’d been to, he’d practically seen a pair of mothers come to blows arguing over the last CrystalShines doll on the shelf.

He was close to the exit of the store when an intriguing scent wafted past his nose. It was another store employee, dressed in the dark polo shirt and black jeans, with one of those ear walkie talkies they all seemed to wear. She was giggling, talking to someone using the button on her mike, her other arm full of a variety of women’s clothing that she was putting back on the racks. Her arms were a blur as she began sorting them into different sizes, working quickly to make each rack neat and tidy.

He watched as she flitted about the store, talking to a customer, smiling and waving at a baby in a pram, folding jumpers and t-shirts. His eyes were drawn to her dark ponytail; the way it swung as she moved was almost hypnotic. Her glossy hair was black, but had a blue sheen to it under the harsh fluorescent lighting, and he had a sudden urge to reach out and touch it, stroke down the length of the swinging tail to see if it was as soft and silken as it looked.

Without even realising it, he followed her, almost bumping into her as she suddenly spun around to go in a different direction.

“Oh! Good evening sir, can I help you with anything?”

There was a pleasant smile on her face, and she was looking at him expectantly. His voice didn’t seem to want to work now he was actually standing close to her, so he turned around his phone, showing her the picture of the doll.

“This is what you’re looking for?”

“Yeah”, he said softly, his eyes focused on hers as she glanced up at him again. He’d never seen anyone with grey eyes before. It seemed they were lit from within like starlight, and now that he was closer to her, she smelt even better. He cleared his throat, trying to get a hold of himself. “My niece wants one of these for her birthday, and I’m having trouble finding one.”

“Okay”, she said, reaching for the button on her headset to talk to the other employees on the shop floor. “Let me just talk to my colleague in the toy department, and I’ll see if we’ve got that item in stock.”

❤

Kagome watched as the man in front of her visibly deflated.

“Don’worry about it then. Already talked to ‘im.”

And then she got it. Ryan was working the toy department tonight. Ryan the racist bigot who didn’t like interacting with any customers who weren’t white, male, good ol’ boys, exactly like him. Usually he worked out the back in the store room, unpacking shipments, but due to the flu going around and the shortage of staff, the evening shift manager had put him on the floor tonight. And he’d no doubt said something innaproppriate to this gorgeous man in front of her, who obviously had some sort of youkai heritage.

She’d had her own run-ins with Ryan. He’d said many cruel things to her over the past six months, since he’d found out what happened a few years ago, cruel enough to make her run to the safety of the women’s toilets to shed a few silent tears in private. He never bullied her in a place where others could overhear, he always cornered her in dark places where there was no one else around. He frightened her. Jak knew she was uncomfortable around him, and did his best to make sure they were never rostered on at the same time, so it had been a while since she’d had to deal with him.

She took in the golden eyes, fangs and the beanie yanked down hard over his long silver hair, but it was the resigned bitter look on his face that caught at her heart. She knew that feeling. Internally Kagome fumed, but outwardly she hoisted her brightest smile onto her face, wanting to make it up to him. She could fix this!

“Wait. I don’t know the toy department that well, but I’m sure I could help. Just give me a moment to put these things down.”

He followed her to a wheeled rack in the aisle where she hung all the clothing in her arms back up, and then turned to him, smiling brightly again.

“Let’s go to the toy department and see if we can’t find this doll for your niece. When’s her birthday?”

“Tomorrow.”

“Oh dear, that doesn’t give you much time to find one!”

“I’ve been lookin’ all week. Online stores have sold out.”

“Well, hopefully we’ll have one in stock. Let’s see, the doll aisle is around here somewhere.”

They walked together down the aisle, both scanning the shelves for the tiny dolls.

“They should be around here”, said Kagome, her finger running along the price labelling on the edge of the shelf, her eyes lighting up as she found the right tag, but sighing in disappointment as she found the shelf empty.

“Yeah”, sighed Inuyasha. “I asked the guy around here if he could find out if there were any more out the back or somethin’ and he, ah…”

“Don’t worry”, said Kagome, a determined look on her face, “I will personally go take a look in the store room for you. Just wait here for me sir.”

“Inuyasha.”

“Huh?”

He coughed a little, his head turning to the side to avoid her direct gaze. “My name, it’s Inuyasha.”

“Oh. Right. Just wait here for me Inuyasha, and I’ll be right back.”

“Thanks Kagome.”

She blinked in confusion as he said her name, wondering how he’d known it, then realised he had read her name tag.

For some reason him saying her name out loud made her stomach swoop, like she was on a roller coaster, even though her feet were firmly planted on the ground. As he gave her a shy smile, she felt her cheeks begin to heat, and she whirled around, making a beeline for the storage room, talking into the mike on her headset as she left.

“Hey Jak, it’s Kagome – just going out to the store room for a moment for a customer. I’ll get right back on those returns as soon as I’m done, okay?”

“Oooh, tell me it’s the hottie with the white hair that I pointed out to you!”

“Jak!”

“Oh it is! Take your time honey!”

“You’re incorrigible, you know that?”

“And you love me for it. Make sure you get his name and number before he goes!”

“Jak!”

“For the customer form darlin’, what else did you think I meant?”

She could hear him still sniggering as she released the talk button on her mike, and she shook her head, grinning despite herself. He was her in-line manager and they got on really well, but rarely got to spend time together, as he was usually rostered on during the day, and her in the evenings so her day was free for lectures and study.

Kagome squeezed her way into the storeroom, scanning the aisles of stock yet to be placed out on the shelves. And then she saw it, the edge of a box with a picture of a tiny doll up on the highest shelf.

Dragging over the step ladder, she placed it under the shelf and climbed up, her petite size meaning she had to stand on the very top to have any chance of reaching the box. She just managed to reach the doll with the tips of her fingers, and nudged it. It tipped forward and fell, and with a gasp she managed to catch it with her outstretched hand, teetering on the top of the ladder, her other arm windmilling frantically to keep her balance.

She took a few deep breaths, trying to calm her frantically beating heart after her almost fall, the box containing the doll clutched tightly against her. But she’d found one for him, a purple one, just like he’d wanted. She had no idea why that made her feel so incredibly happy, but it did.

Grinning widely as she emerged from the storeroom, she began walking directly to the toy department. She could see Inuyasha there, waiting for her. But she could also see Ryan, his arms crossed as he spoke to him, a sneer on his face. She quickened her pace. Previous experience had taught her that expression couldn’t mean anything good.

❤

Inuyasha stood his ground, hands clenched in tight fists by his sides. He had every right to be here – he was a customer, he hadn’t caused any commotion or damage. Kagome had asked him to wait here. But apparently that wasn’t good enough for this guy.

“I told you already, we’ve got none of what your looking for. Nothing for you. Are you deaf, or just stupid?” The volume of his voice wasn’t loud enough to draw anyone’s attention to them, but definitely loud enough to get on Inuyasha’s nerves.

Inuyasha closed his eyes and took a deep breath, his hands shaking slightly as he held back. He would not punch out this idiot – this was a department store, not a battle ground. Even though he deserved it because he was a racist bigoted shit.

“I already told you to leave youkai! Do I have to call security?”

Inuyasha breathed out slowly, trying to keep any trace of anger out of his voice, even though he wanted to let rip. He’d found out the hard way that security tended to not ask questions, just see his youkai traits and assume the worst.

“And I already told you, another employee was taking a look out the back for me. She told me to wait here for her.”

“Yeah, like I’d believe anything one of you would have to say. You’re all the same. What are hidin’ under that hat huh? Some kinda weird freakish thing I’d bet. ”

“Inuyasha!”

Inuyasha turned, his eyes lighting up as Kagome appeared. But she wasn’t wearing the wide smile she had when she left. She was stomping towards them, a box tucked tightly under her arm, the scowl on her face impressive. Thankfully that scowl was not directed at him.

He could smell the nervousness pouring off of her, but you never would have thought it looking at the way she faced off with her work colleague, stepping in front of him like she wanted to shield him from this man's ire with her much smaller body.

“Ryan, I’m handling this customer. And I’ve already found what he needed, so there’s no reason for you to be here. I think you’ve probably said enough.”

There was the barest trace of a tremble in her voice, and Inuyasha moved in closer behind her, wanting her to feel like he was there to support her. He wasn’t exactly sure what was going on, but he didn’t like it.

Ryan rolled his eyes and then sneered at her, his voice low and vicious.

“Ha. Shoulda known it would be you Kagome. Such a helpful little kiss ass. Why don’t you turn that cute little tush of yours around and head back to the ladies department where you belong, unless you’re still that desperate for some demon tail.”

“What?”

Ryan grinned at the shocked expression on Kagome’s face, posturing like he’d somehow scored a point. “Bit ironic really, you working in the ladies department when you’re anything but. A human ain't good enough for Kagome, huh? Wasn’t it bad enough that the last guy you had got fired, now you’re after customers too? You really are a-“

“Don’t. Say. Another. Word.”

Both Kagome and Ryan flinched at the snarled words behind them.

“Kagome, call your manager”, said Inuyasha gruffly. “I wanna report this guy.”

“It’s my word against yours demon, and little Kagome’s not gonna say anything, are you Kagome, because you’re fuckin’ pathetic. There’s nothin’ you can report me for”, snorted Ryan.

“Oh, I don’t know. I’d probably pick being a racist arsehole, for starters”, said another voice cheerfully. "Then maybe we could add workplace harassment."

A tall man in a tailored suit stepped into view, his dark hair slicked back into a short ponytail. He was holding his phone up, obviously still recording the whole thing.

“Here I was, minding my own business in the Lego aisle while I looked for the perfect birthday gift for my little girls, and what should I hear? An employee bad mouthing a customer, when the customer had been nothing but polite and civil. Don’t worry about proof, I’m happy to be a witness. I was recording the whole thing. From the very first racist slur that left your lips.”

Kagome’s eyes were wide as she glanced from the ponytailed man back to Ryan, and Inuyasha could hear her heart beating frantically. He nodded at her approvingly as she took a deep breath, her hand steady on the button on her headset.

“Jak, it’s Kagome”, she said, her voice a little breathless, but firm. “Can you-“

Ryan lunged towards her.

“Don’t you dare, you fuckin’ bitch!”

Inuyasha ducked out from behind Kagome, his fist grabbing the back of Ryan’s shirt and lifting him into the air, Ryan’s legs kicking frantically as he tried to escape. Before Kagome could move out of the way, his steel capped boot caught her on the chin. She dropped like a stone, crumpling to the floor in a heap.

“Fuck, Kagome!”

Inuyasha swung Ryan out of the way and dropped him none too gently, all his focus on the small woman laying prone on the slightly grubby linoleum floor, still out for the count. He could hear a scuffle behind him as the man in the suit and a few other observers struggled to keep Ryan contained, but he no longer cared about him. He knelt down close to her, gently stroking the glossy dark hair back from her face.

“Kagome, can you hear me?”

Inuyasha shook Kagome’s shoulder gently, trying to rouse her, and her eyes fluttered open.

“Inuyasha?” she said groggily, her arm tightening around the box, a wobbly smile on her face. “I got your doll.”

❤

It took a while to sort everything out. An ambulance was called, and the police. The police took statements from Inuyasha, Kagome and the man in the suit, Miroku. Ryan was fired on the spot, and Jak was positively gleeful, despite the mountain of paperwork he’d have to fill out before he went home that evening. When the paramedic suggested that Kagome should go to the hospital to be checked for possible concussion, Inuyasha had immediately said he’d like to go with her, if that was alright with Kagome, and after a few polite remarks about it not being necessary, she’d gratefully accepted. Jak had positively pushed them into the ambulance together, waving them off with a bright smile. It was the most exciting evening shift he’d had in years.

❤

“You don’t have to stay you know. I’ll be fine, I’ll just get an Uber home.”

Inuyasha rolled his eyes, leaning back against the wall, his arm resting on the edge of Kagome's hospital bed.

“For the tenth time woman, I don’t mind. I want to be here when the doctor examines you to make sure you’re okay. And then I wanna make sure you get home safe.” He sighed as he looked at the dark purpling bruise on Kagome’s chin. “I’m just sorry I didn’t throw that fucker down to the end of the aisle when I had the chance.”

“But it’s so late! It’s almost 2am, and you have the party to go to tomorrow. Today I mean.”

“Eh, that’s hours away. She won’t mind if I’m a little late, Rin’s a nice kid. And now I have the perfect present, thanks to you.”

Kagome was quiet for a while. The silence grew to feel uncomfortable, because Inuyasha could sense how tense Kagome suddenly was.

“Inuyasha… I want to explain. About what Ryan said to me.”

“Hmm?” He could smell nervousness again, billowing around her like a cloud, and he didn’t like it. “Doesn’t matter, none of my business.”

“But I want to”, she said, her voice taking on a stubborn edge.

“Fine, I’ll listen. But nothin’ you can say will change my good opinion of you. You stepped up for me back there Kagome, and that don’t happen for me much. I will always remember that.”

Kagome reached out her hand to lightly grasp the clawed one sitting next to her on the bed, and squeezed it.

“Thank you.”

He squeezed back.

“You’re welcome.”

“Anyway”, she sighed. “About what Ryan said. I started working at that department store when I was still in high school, as a weekend job. And there was this training manager, a kitsune. He’d come around every so often, and all the girls thought he was really good looking. He had a little green sports car; a lot of the other girls thought was really important. They all were flirting with him, and then he asked me out. I was so surprised. I mean, me! I’m nothing special! He was so stylish, and so charming. I really thought…” Kagome laughed but it had no humour in it, and Inuyasha squeezed her hand again. She shrugged, her shoulders coming up around her ears as her face turned away from him.

“I was so stupid! It turned out I was right about being nothing special, because he was going out with a couple of girls at every store that he visited.” She flinched a little at Inuyasha’s low growl of disapproval. “There were around ten of us. And because a couple of us were under aged, he was charged. Lost his job. Ryan found out about it a few months ago and thought-“

“Don’t say it”, said Inuyasha gruffly, squeezing her hand again. “Don’t matter what he thought. It’s in the past. And the Kagome I saw tonight was amazing.”

“No I wasn’t!” Kagome shook her head, then winced as her head throbbed, realising that was a bad idea. “I was so scared Inuyasha! I’ve never been able to stand up to him before. But I couldn’t stand the thought of him being mean to you!”

“Then you’re even braver than I thought.” Inuyasha entwined his fingers with hers, and cleared his throat. “Kagome, I know you don’t know me. But I think I’d like to get to know you. Could I call you? Maybe we could go out for coffee or somethin’? I mean you don’t gotta answer, and if you don’t wanna, I totally understand, I mean-“

“Yes.” Kagome giggled at the wide toothy grin on Inuyasha’s face. “Give me your phone and I’ll put my number in.”

“Wait. Maybe you should see what all’a me looks like before you say yes.”

Inuyasha tugged off his beanie, revealing the pointed white dog ears on top of his head. “If you wanna change your mind, I-“

“They’re so cute!” squeaked Kagome. “Please give me your phone!”

❤

Kagome woke up the next morning very late, so late that it was no longer morning at all.

It had been 3am by the time Inuyasha had dropped her home with a bag of painkillers and the Doctor’s instructions for treating her mild concussion. He’d helped her into bed, placed her medicine and a glass of water next to the bed for her, kissed her softly on the cheek and whispered goodnight, closing the door behind him.

She rubbed her cheek gently at the memory of that small kiss, a smile on her face. She still had a headache, so she took two of the tablets, then reached for her phone on the bedside table where it had been charging.

There were two messages.

The birthday girl loves her present! Attached was a picture of a smiling Inuyasha kneeling with his arm around a little girl in a checked orange party dress and sparkly sandals, her dark hair up in pig tails. A wide excited grin split her face, revealing the gap of a missing front tooth. The doll was clutched tightly in her hand, and she was wearing the necklace that came with it.

I told Rin how brave you were, and she wanted you to have some birthday cake. Can I bring some over when you wake up? 🍰

Kagome smiled almost as wide as Rin, despite her headache.

I’d love you to ��

[novelconcepts]

fic: heading into the dark (and we’ve got to hang on to each other)

Life, as Dani Clayton sees it, is full of darkness. Little darknesses, like a mother who draws away even as she continues to draw breath, and big darknesses, like loss that comes out of absolutely nowhere, and all the variations in between. Life is unpredictable. It’s ugly. It’s cruel. 

Life also grants the laughter of small children, and wonderful dinners prepared by good friends, and Jamie’s hand in hers. 

There is, certainly, no shortage of lights in the dark. 

***

“Teach me,” she says one day, a month or two into the great experiment that is Moving to America with Jamie. “Come on.”

“Teach you,” Jamie repeats dryly. “To incur lung cancer?”

“You do it,” Dani points out, aware that she sounds rather petulant and not particularly caring. Jamie’s smiling the half-smile she gets whenever she’s about to let herself get talked over the edge of something. “Come on, I want to see what all the fuss is about.”

Jamie shakes her head, but she’s already lost this battle, and she knows it. Her foot braced behind her on the wall outside their apartment, she turns her head toward the setting sun and exhales a long stream of blue smoke. “Fine, sure. But when you love it, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“I hardly think I’m in danger of--”

“Shut up and c’mere.” She cups her hand around the half-smoked cigarette, holding it up for Dani’s assessment. It’s awkward, the pass-off between her hand and Dani’s more of a fumble than anything else, and Dani nearly drops the damn thing. Jamie laughs. “Easy, now, don’t go wasting it. Now. Put it--”

“I know where to put it,” Dani laughs. Jamie raises her brows teasingly. 

“I’ll just bet you do. Okay, right, here’s the thing. When you inhale, you’re gonna want to take it slow. Nice and easy, but make sure you’re pulling the smoke deep into your lungs, or it’ll defeat the whole--”

Dani’s already sucking in a breath, and she’s just realized Jamie’s eyes have gone wide when her body recoils from the invasive swirl sweeping into her lungs like a hurricane. 

“Easy, I said!” Jamie pries the cigarette from Dani’s suddenly-limp grasp as she doubles over on a gagging cough. Her lungs burn, her hand groping for Jamie’s sleeve, and even though it feels fucking awful, there’s something so wonderfully steadying about Jamie’s hand rubbing circles between her shoulder blades. 

“Now’s not the time for an old-fashioned I-told-you-so, is it?”

Eyes streaming, Dani tries to fix her with a glare, but Jamie’s outlined in the red-gold of a setting sun, her lips pursed around the cigarette once more, and she can’t find it within herself to do anything but laugh. 

***

“You really don’t know how?”

“Don’t laugh,” Jamie grumbles. “Never got around to it, is all.”

Dani’s leaning forward, practically falling off the beach chair in her excitement. Jamie, she has learned over these past few months together, is not the sort of person who doesn’t know things. She may not be good at everything she tries--she’s a rotten cook, for example, though a passable baker--but it sometimes feels like Jamie’s lived more in thirty years than Dani will if granted twice that time. Sometimes, when Jamie is sweeping a billiards table, or fixing a door hinge, or replacing a bit of questionable wiring in the bathroom without managing to electrocute either of them, Dani catches herself thinking there’s nothing Jamie doesn’t know. 

She can never decide if this is more overwhelming or reassuring, truthfully. 

But this. This is just too damn good. 

“You have to let me teach you,” Dani says. “You have to, come on.”

“I think you’ll find I don’t,” Jamie says, arms crossed over her chest. Dani slides from her chair, darting a glance around. It’s unseasonably chilly for June in California, the sky a mottled blue-gray that suggests a storm could strike at any moment. The beach is blessedly clear, and she takes the opportunity to slip into Jamie’s lap.

“Please? It’ll make me so happy, to get to teach you something, for once.”

She can see Jamie doing the calculations, brow furrowed over uncertain eyes. On the one hand, if learning how to swim had been on her radar, she likely would have picked it up ages ago; on the other, Dani’s arms are around her neck, nails tracing lightly under the tousle of her hair, and this is not the sort of conversation starter that often leads to Jamie saying the word “no.”

“Right,” she says grumpily at last. Dani isn’t quite sure whether it’s the batting of her eyelashes or the scrape of short nails across the nape of Jamie’s neck that gets the job done, but Jamie is hoisting them both out of the white plastic chair. “Fine, then, Poppins. Lead me to the slaughter.”

The rain holds off all afternoon, long enough for Jamie’s uneasy flapping in shallow waves to transition into clumsy-yet-useful buoyancy. When Dani places a hand lightly beneath her back and eases her into a calm float, her brow creases. 

“Hey,” Dani says quietly. Her free hand cups Jamie’s cheek, smoothing salty water into her skin. “Look at me. You trust me?”

“Always,” Jamie replies, the word coming almost before Dani’s question is complete. She opens her eyes, and Dani smiles. 

“I’d never let you drown, Jamie. Promise. And who knows? This might come in handy someday.”

***

“It’s...big,” Dani says, a bit nervously. Laughter explodes out of Jamie like a firecracker. 

“It’s not! It’s wee as all hell, Poppins.”

“Bigger than I thought,” Dani amends. “You sure we can keep a place like this afloat?”

The idea of running a business still seems like something out of an extended fever, if she’s honest with herself. At first, it had been a laugh--a conversation held over an empty pizza box and two spent bottles of wine, with her head in Jamie’s lap and her legs all twisted under a blanket. She’d told Jamie she felt weird about getting back into teaching, about the idea of subjecting any kids to whatever mad road her mind might lead her down. 

“They’ll need to be able to rely on me,” she’d said, a little too drunk to really feel the weight of the sentiment. Jamie’s fingers drifted through her hair, her thumb catching on the shell of her ear. “Can’t do that if your teacher’s in the middle of losing her marbles.”

“You’re not,” Jamie had said, with that soft resolution Dani loved so much in her. “But s’all right. You don’t have to go back just yet--ever, if you don’t want to. We can do something else for an honest buck.”

It was a conversation, a way to make herself feel better about the imminent future and all its secrets...and then, seemingly all at once, it was real. A real little shop, just down the block from their apartment, with a real counter and real shelves and a real back room for custom arrangements. Jamie could grow here, anything she liked. And Dani could bask in the peculiar sensation of having a purpose again, even if not the one she’d expected. 

It’s a lot those first few days--weeks--months, but a year in, Dani finds she’s taken to the shop like almost nothing else in her life. She loves talking to the people who bustle in looking for arrangements for mothers and wives and graduation events. She loves the way Jamie tends to the flowers with a gentle hand, always willing to pop off a fact or insight about any given type. She especially loves the way Jamie looks at closing time each night, the way she combs her shaggy hair back from her eyes and leans over each bud in turn to murmur reassurances. Back in the morning. You all get on, best behavior, until we meet again. 

She slips up behind Jamie, arms around her middle, and rests her chin on Jamie’s shoulder. “I like that you do that. Talk to them.”

Jamie favors her with a soft, tired smile. “Nothin’ ever blossomed without good communication, Poppins.”

***

Dani starts saying I love you so much faster than either of them is prepared for. The first time the words slip from her mouth, they’re standing in the devastation of what once qualified as their kitchen. Batter drips down the side of the refrigerator. There’s flour caked in Jamie’s hair, giving the effect of a grumpy old witch woman whose magic potion rebelled in the most cataclysmic sense. 

“Swear to Christ,” she says gruffly. “I had the damn mixer in the damn bowl.”

The way Dani sees it, there are two ways to respond to this: with scolding, or with hysterical laughter. She settles on the latter almost without conscious decision, scooping up a handful of flour and tossing it into the air like confetti. Jamie’s mouth opens and closes, words not quite enough for the moment. 

“You,” she says, “are irreverent.”

“And you,” Dani replies, skating across the slippery tile until she has Jamie backed up against the postcard-bedazzled front of the fridge. “You’re wonderful.”

Jamie looks like she wants to contradict this statement, perhaps thinking of the cake that now decorates the walls. “This was going to be for your birthday, you--”

Dani is kissing her, hands gripping Jamie’s collar. She hasn’t felt this relaxed in weeks, melting against Jamie when hands settle around her waist like Jamie’s been looking for a reason to give in all afternoon. 

“I--could still--” Jamie’s mouth moves down her neck, more than half distracted from her own words. “--fix it--”

“You’re right where you’re supposed to be,” Dani tells her, or thinks she does; it’s a bit hard to focus with Jamie’s hand sliding around and down that way, with Jamie’s hips bucking lightly against her. 

“It’s like you don’t even want a birthday cake,” Jamie murmurs, biting her shoulder gently through the thin fabric of a co-opted Blondie shirt. “Did I say you could borrow this?”

“Take it back, then,” Dani breathes. 

Later, tucked together against the cabinets, she turns her face against Jamie’s neck. Her hand is trapped between the tile and Jamie’s back, going steadily numb. Moving isn’t even a concept. 

“I love you,” she says. It comes out a little slurred, a little sleepy, but entirely true. Jamie raises her head, shifting to look her in the face. 

“It’s all to do with my grade-A baking talents, isn’t it?”

***

Jamie doesn’t say it back right away. Most of the time, Dani gets it. Doesn’t want to push. There was so much of that in her old life, in what she sometimes thinks of as the Era of Danielle--every step of the way with Edmund felt like someone was standing behind her, hands pressed into her back, shoving her along. Into a man, yes, but more than that: into a preconceived notion. Be somebody’s wife. Be somebody’s answer to the question of who they want to be in the world. Be small, be quiet, be the person who says yes and yes and yes, absolutely, even when you want to scream. 

The last thing she’d ever do is push Jamie, so she doesn’t make a big deal out of it. If Jamie loves her--and Dani’s fairly confident she does, at least on the days when the old ghosts aren’t cracking out of the walls to tell her otherwise--then Jamie will get around to it on her own merit. 

Still, when Jamie does, it takes her by surprise. 

“I’m pretty in love with you, it turns out,” she says, like she’s been steeling herself for this moment for weeks--and, Dani thinks, judging by the single moonflower on the counter, she probably has. Jamie, who pretends to play the game of life with such casual disinterest. Jamie, who pretends it’s all one-day-at-a-time. Jamie, who spent hours in secret cultivating this one tiny symbol that says so unbelievably much about her, just so she could tell Dani all this in the right way. 

There’s a couch in the back room, a wide squashy old beast that Dani had been adamantly opposed to when Jamie first pointed it out. “It’s ridiculous. What are we going to do with that?”

She has to admit, pulling Jamie along and latching the door behind them, that it seems like an excellent idea now. It’s only by the thinnest grace of self-preservation--she likes this shop, likes this life, would very much like not to be run out of Vermont by some old-fashioned jackass peering through their window and seeing too much--that they make it to the couch at all. 

“It’s okay, then,” Jamie says, falling backward onto overstuffed brown leather and pulling Dani with her. “This problem of ours?”

Dani kisses her, the giddiness and desire so powerful a combination, she almost feels drunk with it. Jamie laughs into her mouth, one hand already working the buttons of her blouse, that laugh turning into a low, liquid groan. Dani, fingers slipping between waistband and skin, has already beaten her to the punch. 

It’s in moments like these, she thinks. Moments like these where everything falls into place. Not just being with Jamie, but being with Jamie here, in a place they own, on their own terms. Not just being with Jamie, but being with a Jamie who has been clarifying her love for a year, doing so with hot tea and cool smiles and repairs around the house and gentle reassurances. She said it here, planned out like a proposal, and she’s saying it again and again--”love you, fuck, love you--” as Dani winds them closer together, but it wasn’t the first time. Not really. Jamie’s been saying it since the moment she took Dani by the hand and asked if she wanted company while she waited for the darkness to consume her. 

Jamie rocks under her, making a softly desperate little noise into her mouth, and Dani has never felt so understood. Never quite put it together like this before. That Jamie thought she had to say it a certain way, show it a certain way, is wonderful and absurd and silly. 

“I like this problem,” she says. “Best problem I’ve ever had.”

***

“You like it?”

Jamie’s voice is too-casual. The kind of casual that says, look, if you don’t like it, I’ll understand, but I’ll spend the next six months going slowly crazy coping with that knowledge. Jamie gets this kind of “casual” only so often, and usually, Dani likes to string it along before reassuring her. It’s a little mean, maybe, but the way Jamie always sags against the nearest bit of furniture with a hand over her eyes, groaning, “Jesus Christ, Poppins, you could just be gentle with me” does something exceptionally pleasant to her stomach. 

This time, she’s not even thinking about teasing Jamie. 

This time, she’s just staring. 

“If you don’t like it,” Jamie says, a bit more hurriedly now, “you can say so. I mean. Can’t do much about it, truth be told, but we can work through the issue. Get into some couple’s therapy, talk it out...”

“Stop talking,” Dani says through a shockingly dry mouth. “Please.”

Jamie’s mouth swings shut with a little click. Dani rises from the chair she’d been curled in, feet tucked under as she flipped through a Stephen King novel that hit just a little too close to home. She moves across the living room like a sleepwalker. 

Jamie, expression somewhere between warily anticipatory and genuinely frightened, is still holding the hem of her shirt aloft. Dani pauses, swaying slightly, a magnetism rising between them that she sometimes thinks should fade with time, should logically become less as the years become more. For a long beat, they just look at one another. 

She’s sinking to her knees before she realizes, hand sliding up Jamie’s stomach to grasp her fingers, the shirt hem, clutch both tight. Jamie drags in a breath. 

“Oh. S’like that.”

“Apparently,” Dani mutters, closing her free hand around Jamie’s hip and pressing her mouth to the line of flowers rising from the band of her jeans, coiling around the left side of Jamie’s stomach. Jamie sucks in a breath. 

“Okay, when I was sitting for the thing, I certainly wasn’t thinking, Poppins has a thing for tattoos, but can’t say I’m complaining...”

“How long?” Dani asks, the words muffled around slow, deliberate kisses. Jamie rocks back on her heels, one hand sliding down into Dani’s hair for balance. 

“I know you are not asking me detail-oriented questions while you do that.”

Dani pauses, grins, waits. Jamie groans. 

“How long did it take, or how long have I wanted a bloody tattoo?”

“The latter.” The flowers are blue and white, strung along a twisting vine. Dani is presently making it her personal life goal to kiss each and every one, licking gently upward as she goes. Jamie’s eyes flutter, grip tightening. 

“You are a truly--”

“Tread wisely,” Dani murmurs, biting at her hipbone. Jamie inhales. 

“’Bout a year. Or maybe six weeks. Or maybe my whole life, I dunno, sometimes these things just sneak up on you.”

“Tattoos sneak up on you?” Dani tilts her head back, grinning. Jamie peers down at her, hair falling messily across her forehead, expression soft. 

“Wouldn’t be the first thing.”

She gets more as the years go on--little yellow daffodils, chains of wildflowers, small, carefully rendered roses--almost always in places easily hidden. Each time, the sight of ink on pale skin, the patient way Jamie quietly explains each one in bed, letting Dani map them out beneath curious palms, sets her heart racing in a way she can’t explain.

It’s the permanence, she thinks the day Jamie comes home with a small moonflower on her inner forearm. It’s the promise of the thing. 

It’s the tomorrow of it all. 

***

“How hard can it be to put together a bedframe, Dani,” she mimics. Even to her own ears, her voice is shrill. She’s making too big a deal out of this, and she knows it. 

But for fuck’s sake, sometimes Jamie is hard-headed. 

“I’ll have it done in an hour, Dani,” she goes on, hands windmilling above her head. “I know you’ve got a busy day, so just leave it to me, Dani.”

“Okay,” Jamie says, “okay, I know you’re upset, but in what world have I ever used your name that many times in a sitting?”

Dani freezes, turning slowly on her heel. Jamie takes a step back. 

“Right, correct, this is not the moment for glib.”

“Jamie,” Dani sighs. “You promised.”

“I did,” Jamie agrees, “and I could say I tried, but we both know how I feel about lying...”

The apartment is a little bigger than their last, and everything fits all different. Dani knows it’s going to be good for them--they outgrew the last place far sooner than either had wanted to admit, and this one has a beautiful view of a park. Plenty of space for Jamie’s ever-growing plant collection. Plenty of space for stretching out and warming the cozy little world they’ve built together. 

Still, it’s different, and different has a way of setting Dani’s teeth on edge. There’s something about a new home that reminds her of moving into Bly a lifetime ago--the exhilaration mixing with trepidation mixing with shadows she doesn’t yet know the names of. They've been here a week, sleeping in a blanket fort in the living room, Dani waking most mornings with carpet marks dug deep into her skin. She wants their room situated. She wants to sleep in their bed. 

She wants Jamie to build the damn frame like she promised three days ago. 

“I sometimes have trouble telling,” Jamie says, her accent thicker as it always is when she’s reasonably sure she’s stepped in it. “Am I actually in trouble?”

Dani sighs. “Jamie...”

“Oh.” Jamie edges closer. She’s dressed for battle, Dani notes, in shorts that barely qualify as legal and her softest flannel shirt. The very shirt, if Dani looks closely enough, Dani herself slipped into after a shower about two weeks ago and sent Jamie gaping at her like she’d been hypnotized. 

“Don’t,” Dani warns, remembering all too well the way Jamie had behaved the last time this shirt saw daylight. “Don’t, Jamie. I’m trying to be mad at you.”

“I can see that,” Jamie agrees. “You might say that’s why I’m making this desperate bid for, ahh, not being in the doghouse.”

“Jamie.” Dani manages to turn the word into about eleven syllables, which usually has some effect, but Jamie’s already within the proverbial walls. Her hands are riding up Dani’s ribcage, dangerously high, her smile the kind of charming only a heart of stone could resist. 

It’s cheating, and Jamie knows it, and Dani wants to point this out, but Jamie’s got her backed up against the mattress. The mattress that should be on a nice, well-made, sturdy frame. The mattress they could both be on top of right now, if only Jamie had just--if Jamie had--

“This is incredibly unfair,” she groans. Jamie, busy kissing her throat with slow, open-mouthed abandon, says nothing. Dani grasps at her shoulders with both hands, squeezing flannel between her fists, and lets her weight fall backward. Jamie holds her up, one hand up the back of her skirt, the other testing the resistance of her sweater. 

“You,” she gasps, even as Jamie moves a leg between her thighs and rocks gently, “are still in trouble.”

“Mmhmm,” Jamie agrees, a million miles away. She’s nipping at Dani’s earlobe now, and Dani can feel her grinning. 

“You are still putting the goddamn bed together, Jamie.”

“Sure,” Jamie says, husky, and presses her harder against the mattress. “Later.”

“Honestly, how do you do this every time?”

***

“You sure about this?” 

“Yes.” The answer is kind of actually no, but curiosity is getting the best of her. Anyway, it won’t be like before, the first time she ever tried to bum a cigarette off of Jamie and wound up nearly throwing up into the street. A couple of years and an indeterminate amount of cigarettes later, she’s got the art of it down, though she’s not what she’d call a smoker, per se. 

(She’s not, but try telling Jamie that. Just because she sometimes slips the cigarette from between Jamie’s fingers in a restaurant, or when they’re lounging outside after a long day, or in bed after a particularly effective round of Jamie getting herself out of trouble. Dani finds the act soothing, but only if Jamie has already lit up and taken a puff. Then and only then does it feel like sharing part of Jamie.)

“It’s different,” Jamie warns. “Not saying you can’t handle it, mind, but--”

“Just show me how it’s done, Jamie.”

This challenge, she utters in her lowest voice, and Jamie raises an eyebrow. “I see what you’re doing, Poppins.”

“What am I doing?”

Fact of the matter is, she’s having a very specific kind of day. The kind where her mind keeps drifting. The kind where memory feels heavier than it has in years. It’s not the first time she’s had a day this heavy, nor will it be the last, but it still bothers her. 

She hasn’t told Jamie. Doesn’t feel like she needs to, not yet. This doesn’t quite feel like beast-in-the-jungle territory so much as that old twisting panic, the old sense that she’s missing a test everyone else has studied for. When her mind edges her down this path, all she ever wants--all she can ever do about quieting it--is to hold close to Jamie. 

Jamie, who is giving her a searching look now, even as nimble fingers roll a joint.  “Sure you’re sure? Only, if you’re not up for it, I’m not going to judge.”

“Jamie. Do you trust me?”

Jamie’s mouth turns up at the corners. “Always.”

“Then get it started and hand it over.” She’s laughing a little, a nervous burble laugh that makes her feel more tethered to her own body. Jamie reaches over, closing a hand over her wrist and squeezing. 

“Your wish and all that, Poppins. But do me a favor? Go easy this time.”

She takes the first hit, and then a second, leaning back against the green granite counter and exhaling slowly toward the ceiling. For a minute, it’s enough for Dani just to watch her: relaxed posture in a long-sleeved black shirt, rolled to the elbows to give her more room to make a mess of dinner an hour previously. Her hair is getting longer, shaggier, her makeup reckless in that half-attention way Jamie has of barely caring what she looks like for anyone who isn’t Dani. 

“Your turn.” 

Dani takes her at her word this time, careful to draw a small amount of smoke into her lungs and hold there. Even so, she coughs once, a slow, clean burn sliding outward through her chest. Jamie nods approvingly.

“Did you grow this yourself?” she asks after another careful hit. She hands the joint back, letting her hip press against the counter an inch from Jamie’s. There’s a comfortable heat between them this evening, slow-simmer ease that makes her think of early days. She likes the lingering way Jamie rests her hand against Dani’s on the countertop, pinky finger lightly caressing the edge of her skin, like the world’s most comfortable seduction. 

“Nah,” Jamie says, with the joint between her lips. There’s something about the way she closes her eyes on the inhale, about the way her free hand never leaves Dani’s skin. Warmth works its way through her belly, and she thinks, bad day, maybe, but a good night. 

“Would you grow it?” It’s just something to say. She’s already starting to feel the smoke coiling around her thoughts, her head growing soft, buzzing gently around the edges. She imagines she can feel Jamie’s hand all the way through her body. 

“Not in our shop, if we wanted to keep the place.” Jamie’s eyes twinkle, the joint outstretched. “More?”

Dani shakes her head. The world is very slightly fuzzy, the kitchen warm, and Jamie has never felt more real. She watches Jamie carefully put out the lit end, setting the joint in an ashtray, liking the authority with which Jamie moves. 

She’s always like this, always so focused on the little details that make up a day. On days where Dani feels like she’s coming up from the ground in one horrible jerk, Jamie is always there to root her again. It’s a good feeling, knowing Jamie is there. Knowing Jamie is only getting more there with time. 

Later, she’ll look back on this as the moment. The one where she first decided to do it. The actual question, the actual plan, the actual ring won’t be here for years yet, but this is the moment the spark takes hold. 

It would be different, she decides, as her fingers curl like vines around Jamie’s, bringing their joined hands against her chest. It would be so different than last time. No push. No expectation. Just a promise. Just us. 

She likes being high with Jamie, she decides very quickly. Likes how it makes Jamie’s already-firm confidence firmer. Likes how it makes her already-sensitive skin buzz with pleasure. Likes the way Jamie folds her against the counter, hands gentle on the back of her head, and kisses her like it’s the first time. 

She’s all exposed nerve and heavy limb and giggle as Jamie leads her to the bedroom, eases her down, cups her face between soft hands. For once, the shadows seem to work in her favor, curling around them as they move together, as cloth becomes skin, and she’s sighing, sighing, crying Jamie’s name into the darkness. 

Jamie said once, a lifetime ago, that sometimes you have to drop everything too heavy to carry in order to hang on to one another. Jamie said it with such intensity, it didn’t even cross Dani’s mind to think of it another way. That, if you’re going to march into the dark, having a hand to hold as you go can make all the difference in the world.

The lights are on, for now. The lights are on, and Jamie holds her so tight with hands so soft, and Dani knows it’s not forever. Can sense it, like you sense the return of a childhood bad dream. Can feel it, shifting below the surface. 

Maybe closer now. Maybe a little bit more awake than before. She can’t say for sure. 

What she can say is that a night like this--kissing her way down Jamie’s chest, kissing flowers and bellybutton and that spot just above her hip that makes her writhe with laughter--is a torch. A ward against the monsters. A little light to carry them through the dark. 

She’s got Jamie on her skin, in her mouth, imprinted on her soul, and she thinks it’s the best anyone can ask for. The only thing anyone can hope for. 

And when Jamie clutches her hand right back, flashes that I’m-out-of-trouble smile, drapes one of her worn flannel shirts around Dani’s bare shoulders, she thinks, as long as I can have this. As long as she’ll have me. The shadows can’t possibly swallow me whole. 

[zeldasayer]

I transcribed and translated Pedro’s interview from GQ Germany for all of us. I tried translating as good as possible but bear with me, English is not my mother tongue. By @sixties-loser

Pedro Pascal, the star from “Game of Thrones”, “Wonder Woman” and “The Mandalorian” talks about becoming an adult, film, fashion, corona – and a painful surgery in the exclusive GQ interview.

It seems almost eerie how empty the streets of LA are in the sunshine. Meanwhile a new normality seems to be coming to Europe, most people in L.A. are still cutting their own hair. Many have not seen their friends for half a year. The pandemic is out of control. The reaction towards it too. Inviting someone into their garden for a “distance drink” can cause the same distress as suggesting to switch spouses.

Therefore, it was particularly surprising that Pedro Pascal immediately accepted. He accepted the drink, not to switch spouses. He is one of the rising stars and newcomers this year – if it wasn’t for corona sending the whole film industry into a forced vacation, there would most likely not have been time for said drink. After having his skull crushed in “Game of Thrones” followed the lead role as a DEA agent hunting Pablo Escobar in “Narcos” in 2015 and now he is stepping towards big Hollywood films. From the 1st of October onwards the Chilean-born actor will be starring in the blockbuster “Wonder Woman 1984”. Moreover, the second season of the “Star Wars”-series “The Mandalorian” on Disney+ starring him as the lead is going to air in October this year – but he will be underneath a helmet. Well, we all are under a helmet in 2020 in one way or another. We want to meet the man who a few years ago still worked as a waiter in New York, whose parents were political refugees who found asylum in Denmark and settled in Texas and whose son one day signed up for a theatre group in High School.

Then, the cancellation! While we were in the middle of fixing up the house and the garden for the drink with Pedro and organizing the fashion shoot, which was not easy considering the safety measures in L.A., his management called with an unfortunate message: Pedro – no, not sick with corona – had to get emergency surgery because of a damaged tooth and was lying in bed with a swollen face that was hindering him from speaking and taking pictures. The sun is shining onto empty streets. And our empty garden.

A few days later he nonetheless arrived at our front door without a swollen face but still with threads in his mouth. He was not chauffeured by a limo-service but he came with his own car – he even picked up his make-up artist. He is helping her carrying all of her utensils into the house and declares: “I’ve got time today!”. What a celebrity! It seemed like we did not want to ask him how he made it to the A-List of Hollywood but he wanted to ask us how we made it to the A-list. Pedro Pascal! Yes, what kind of a celebrity?

Pedro Pascal: Sorry for messing with your plans. The surgery was an emergency.

GQ: Really? We were wondering whether the swelling wasn’t the product of a secret visit to the plastic-surgeon. Apparently, they are drowning in work because of the quarantine in Hollywood.

PP: I have to disappoint you. A few days before our appointment I was rushing to the hospital with a fractured tooth and the worst pain in my entire life – a hospital in which treats people with severe cases of corona. I was unable to reach any dentist! Right in front of the parking lot a specialist called me back. The pain was hell despite the ten injections I got. The doctor said I was not an exception because a lot of people are grinding their teeth because of all the stress.

GQ: What are you most afraid of at the moment?

PP: How the government is handling the pandemic is worrying me more than the virus itself. This shortage of intelligent management of the crisis is a moral shame. The leadership crisis in this country is turning us all into orphans – destitute and abandoned.

GQ: How did you spend your time over the last few months?

PP: I spent it with frozen pizza and sweatpants in Venice Beach. I live in a rear house that’s in a family’s garden. Actually, there are a lot of good takeout places nearby but for some reason I just love pepperoni pizza from the supermarket.

GQ: That does not really sound like movie star-lifestyle. What does it feel like being suddenly stopped from top speed to zero?

PP: Regarding what is going on around the world one should hold back one’s own mental turmoil. I would be lying if I was saying that I am not disappointed. The whole team put a lot of heart and work into the production of “Wonder Woman 1984”. We had a lot of fun on set. I wished to travel around the world and introduce the film with the same lively energy.

GQ: You come from a politically engaged, socialist family that fled from the Pinochet-regime in Chile. What do you remember from that time?

PP: My sister and I were born in Chile but I was only nine months old when we first found asylum in Denmark. From there we quickly came to San Antonio in Texas where my dad started working as a doctor at the university clinic.

GQ: Texas is not known as a socialist utopia. How did you assimilate?

PP: San Antonio is not a Cowboy-town but very diverse with big Asian, black and Latino communities. I remember it as a romantic place, culturally open. The culture shock only came as we later moved to range county in California. There the atmosphere was suddenly white, preppy and conservative.

GQ: How were you received in California?

PP: I’m still ashamed of the fact that I did not correct my classmates when they kept on calling me Peter. I am Pedro. Even if I didn’t grow up in Chile the country and the language are still a part of me. I was very unhappy in that environment. However, I was fortunately able to go to another school close to Long Beach where I felt more comfortable. Through the theater group at that school I found my way.

GQ: Were you able to visit Chile as a child?

PP: Yes, when my parents made it to the list of expatriates that were able to travel to Chile without consequences. First, there was a big family reunion and then my sister and I stayed there for a few months with relatives while my parents went back to Texas. They likely needed a break from us. They got us when they were very young, had a buzzing social life and my mother was obtaining a PhD in psychology.

GQ: Was your mother a typical young psychologist who wanted to apply her theoretical knowledge at home?

PP: You mean, whether I was her guinea pig? For sure! I remember strange tests and sittings that were disguised as games where someone was watching me react to different toys. I cannot have been older than six but I was already aware of the dynamic. My favourite thing was being questioned about my dreams. That was a wonderful opportunity to come up with fantastic stories.

GQ: Was that your first performance?

PP: Of course! My mother worried about my strong imagination because I was living in my own fantasy world rather than reality. I hated going to school. I was always categorized as the troublemaker. At one point, the topics at school became more interesting and my grades also went up. There are so many kids that are unnecessarily diagnosed with learning disabilities without considering that school can be abhorrent. Why is it so accepted to be bored in class when there are so many stimulating ways to convey knowledge?

GQ: Considering al that has happened this summer around the world: Do you believe that we can seriously demand social change now?

PP: I Hope so. After lockdown, the first time I went out was to protest for “Black Lives Matter” on the streets. The energy was peaceful and hopeful until the police provoked severe conflicts. Nevertheless, we cannot run from problems like we used to this time and we cannot distract ourselves from them either. It seems like the pressure of the pandemic led to a new clarity: We cannot go on this way.

GQ: The “Wonder Woman 1984” Trailer revives the optimism of the 1980’s. From today’s point of view, it seems almost nostalgic.

PP: That’s right. You really are happy for two hours. The director Patty Jenkins created a film full of positive messages. We shot in Washington D.C., then in London and Spain – this sounds like I am talking of a past time.

GQ: Do you miss traveling?

PP: I’m just now realizing the privilege of just packing up one’s stuff and being able to fly anywhere. An American passport used to guarantee unlimited travel. And that’s why it the small radius of our lives is actually unimaginable. Over the last years I often retreated for a break after shootings because I was constantly on the move and overstimulated. My friends were already complaining I had become too comfortable. We all took social contact for granted and are only realizing now how dependent we actually are on human contact. Over the last weeks I often longingly thought about all the parties and dinner invitations I declined.

GQ: In L.A. people spend more time at home or nature than in other metropolises that are more geared towards public life. Could this city become your second home after New York?

PP: My Real Home are my friends. I have been a nomad since I was little and I do not have a place where I have put down roots. Up until not long ago my physical home was a place in between departure and arrival. Therefore, it was something I did not want to complicate through the accumulation of stuff. On the contrary: Without having read Marie Kondo’s book I have freed myself from excess baggage over the last few years and I lived relatively minimally.

GQ: Is there nothing you collect or something you just can’t throw away?

PP: Books! I even still have the literature I read when I was a teenager and when I was in college. Recently, I stumbled upon a box full of old theatre manuscripts and materials from my time at the New York University. I also cannot part from art easily, just like I cannot part from lamps or old photos. On the other hand, I can easily get rid of furniture and clothes.

GQ: Do you remember roles that were really only completely defined through the costume?

PP: Yes, I am particularly thinking about “Game of Thrones”. At that time I understood for the first time what it meant to be supported by a look. This is thanks to the costume designer Michele Clapton. She created very feminine robes and brocade coats for my character that nevertheless looked masculine when worn and I felt very sexy in them. Of course, Lindy Hemmings power-suits and Jan Swells bleached hairstyle for the tycoon-villain in “Wonder Woman 1984” were very important as well. At first I did not really see myself in the role because the cuts and colors of the 80s do not really fit my body. I’m more the 70s type.

GQ: Do you incorporate those inspirations into your personal wardrobe?

PP: In my free time I choose comfort over a cool look these days. Sometimes I miss the times when I expressed myself through a certain style. It is hard to imagine that I went to Raves as a teenage in the 90s; I was a real club kid with ridiculous outfits: overalls, balloon pants, football shirts and a top hat, like in Dr.Seuss’s “Cat in a Hat”. Later in New York I was hanging out with a group of people that felt it was very important to have a certain style. The fact that I am basically only wearing sweatpants everyday is actually tragic.

GQ: whoever plays roles in comic book adaptations becomes a bodybuilder and eats ten chicken breasts a day. You don’t?

PP:My body would not agree with that. It is hard enough to stay in shape normally. When you’re in your mid-forties you have to live with a lot more discipline. Up until before my tooth-incident I worked out with a trainer in my garden multiple times a week to keep the quarantine body in check.

GQ: Apart from the personal trainer, are you in a steady relationship?

PP: I am not ready for that yet. Maybe at some point I will be but until then I’ll let it be. I can’t even offer you absurd corona dating stories.

GQ: What would annoy you the most if you were your own roommate?

PP: I can be quite controlling. I have to conjure all my humanity to prevent myself from going through my entire film collection. When I don’t want something I cannot keep it to myself or be passive-aggressive, I always have to take it to the frontlines. Other than that, I tend to have tunnel view: when I am not feeling well I cannot imagine to ever feel better again. I have trouble relativizing my emotions or to wave off problems. Method-acting would really not be for me. This is why I try to only work on projects that feel good, where there is mutual support and encouragement.

GQ: When we were trying on the clothes earlier you spoke of a lack of self-confidence. How does that get along with a career like yours?

PP: Isn’t it interesting how these characteristics and circumstamces relate? Self-worth comes from inside but it is also influenced by what society values because we often internalise the public gaze. I have lived in New York for 20 years, I studied there and made a living by working as a waiter until my mid-thirties because the theatre and film jobs I got did not pay the bills. There were so many times I was almost there. The disappointment of having missed the perfect role or opportunity by a hair’s width can be crushing. When should you give up and what is plan B? That is a question that is not only on many actors‘s minds but also on many others minds who struggle for a living – no matter how much potential they have or how close they seem to be to the top. We are seeing now how our narrow definition of success destroys society. At the same time, we are realizing that where we come from and the color of our skin still decide whether we can exist with dignity.

GQ: What are the positive aspects of a relatively late success as leading-man?

PP: I feel like I can decide over my own life without the pressure of having to accept projects or to have to present a certain identity on social media. This is for sure also because I am a man. Regardless of age, Women have to try harder to stand out.

GQ: Life always consists of risk management – now more than usual. For what would you risk losing something?

PP: Generally, when you never risk something you might never get ahead. That is for friendship, love, work and creativity. I have to be ready to take risks for the things that really matter to you.

[sasa-gay-yo]

Just Us (Chapter Eight: Bread)

← Chapter Seven

TW: Themes of SA

“Maybe they stopped somewhere? They’re usually on time, so something had to have happened,” I turned back to look at the café’s clock through the window. They were almost two hours late. Some people were making jokes about them all dying and not coming back, but I rolled my eyes at those. I would know if Levi died and I didn’t have a feeling like that. However, there was a feeling creeping up from my stomach. Something wasn’t right and it wasn’t because they had stopped along the way to take a rest. I had gotten this feeling before and realized sometime ago it lined up with Levi getting hurt on the expedition. 

Jonas shrugged, “I mean it’s always a gamble to see what time they come back. It’ll probably be late when they do. Let’s go back in. It’s not like they’re never late.” He tried to grab my arm to pull me down, but I evaded it. Something just didn’t seem right. I wasn’t settled to go back to the café yet. Not when this feeling was still slowly creeping up my back. What was going on? 

“No, Jonas, I’m going to stay here.”

Suddenly, there were screams from far down the street. Loud screams of terror. They weren’t welcoming back the Scouts, were they? Were they really in such a state to scream about? The feeling had finally taken hold of my brain and I started shaking. Something bad had happened. 

Levi, where are you?

“Wall Maria has fallen! Titans have taken Wall Maria! Shiganshina has been attacked by the titans!” I recognized the man on the horse as a new cadet and his eyes were filled with fear. As soon as he ran past the people waiting, chaos struck. My eyes opened as wide as they could and I observed the people from the crate I was standing on. Some were screaming in hysterics, others didn’t believe the news, too stunned to move, and most were already running back to their homes. 

If titans had taken Wall Maria, that means they were right outside Wall Rose. They were directly outside of Trost. Had the Scouts been stopped by an ambush of titans? How did the titans breech Wall Maria? Questions were running fast through my mind and even with Jonas’s pulling, I couldn’t leave the crate. Where were the Scouts? Where was Levi? I wanted answers, but I couldn’t get them like this. My eyes started watering.

“Eva, we need to go inside! If the titans broke through Shiganshina, then Trost is next!” The screams of the crowd had gotten loud enough to drown out anyone speaking in regular tones. People were coming to the same conclusions Jonas and I had. We weren’t protected by another wall, we were the wall now. The titans were right outside our doorstep. If they climbed up Maria, they can climb up Rose.

“Where are they, Jonas?!” I asked in desperation. Somehow, even with all these questions, my mind was hyperfocused on the Scouts. He grabbed my legs and hauled me inside, not caring to answer my question. I was too stunned to move. 

Once he put me down, he locked the door and closed the windows to the café. 

“Is your apartment locked?” I nodded slowly and looked around. Everyone had vacated their places at the tables and I even saw some pastries and bread missing from the glass case. That’s when I realized why Jonas had come in and locked the door.

“I think we’re going to have to keep the café locked for a few days. People are going to be panicking and doing crazy things, and if there are any refugees from Shiganshina, they’re going to end up here.” I started shaking at the thoughts of people breaking in. Tears, fear, and now physically shaking. My mind couldn’t process my emotions, but my body was going into overdrive.

I had bread. That was the one thing they were going to want. Every meal is with bread. Refugees and citizens. We had just lost valuable land to the titans, meaning that soon there would be too many people to feed and not enough crops. There wasn’t enough land between Rose and Mitras to feed all of us. We were already dealing with a shortage, but now it was going to be ten fold and I had one of the things people wanted the most. Apparently, my mind still didn’t care about that.

“Jonas, how did the titans get in?” He was tying some spare rope around the door and a chair so no one could get it even if they somehow got the lock open. I didn’t know how he was thinking so logically at this point. I couldn’t think straight or even move. I was calm in most situations, but this is the one that broke me. I wasn’t afraid for myself I realized.

He looked up at me and his eyes softened. I was shaking, my eyes wide and filled with tears, and my thoughts were consuming me. Levi was okay, I could feel it, but they had to be fighting titans right now or on their way to. It chilled me to my core thinking about them charging into a concentrated zone like Shinganshina, especially with the new recruits who had just gone on their first expedition. How many had survived this one, just to be eaten by titans breaching the Wall? I wasn’t scared for my wellbeing as much as I was for theirs.

His voice was calmer than before, “I don’t know, Eva, but you can ask Levi when he returns.” I didn’t know if that was to make me feel better, but a sudden confidence in Levi did help. They’ll return. He’ll come back again. 

“I’ll stay with you for awhile. You’re a well-known bakery so people or refugees might try something. You don’t know how to defend yourself from them.” As much as I wanted to reject his offer, I knew he was right. His house would be fine with his two roommates and I was too scared to even go upstairs right now. I nodded and sat down on a chair, trying to calm myself. I was thinking more logical now, but my body was slow to catch up with my mind. Wiping the tears off my face, I start to take deep breaths.

“I wonder what will happen next. If there are titans who can get above the walls, then humanity will have to think of some defense.” Jonas walked over and joined me at the table. We just sat there lost in our thoughts and trying to tune out the shouting going on outside. He decided to try and use humor to calm each of us down.

“A dome,” he suggested flippantly. Not a bad idea, I guess. Sacrificing the sky to survive titans wasn’t something humanity would want to do. Humans wanted to be able to see above and below them. That’s something they all take for granted on the surface. 

“I didn’t know titans were a thing until I was six or seven. The Underground was like a dome and everyone killed to try and see the sky. I don’t think that’d work,” I responded back. He just shrugged and we went back to sitting in silence again. We just didn’t know what to do now that our normal routine was broken. Jonas would be delivering something and I would be back in the café listening to the crowd complain about the Scouts per their return. I’d be waiting for Levi to come back and have our first late-night tea as… well, our first late night tea since we aired out everything. Now, that wasn’t going to happen. Humanity was on a complete standstill that day. 

Some people left Trost and others acted like nothing had happened days previous. The refugees were piling in one by one and being housed in the supply areas the Garrison had. When I took time to stare out the window, I could see them lining up outside to get their names down and escorted in. Their faces were just like the Scouts when they had returned from a brutal expedition and just like people in the Underground. I never thought I would see so many people with this expression above ground. Lifeless, shell shocked, consumed with helplessness; it was hard to stare at them long. I decided to keep the café closed while the refugees were getting settled and to preserve my stock. One of the Garrison members had mentioned that in a months time, the refugees would use up all the excess supplies and soon they would be on the ones for the people of Trost. It seemed the other Wall Rose cities were having the same problem. Coupled with the famine we were already dealing with, it seemed we were soon going to descend into some state of madness as a society. I didn’t want me or my café to be a point of interest to those who were food-crazed.

It seem the Garrison had other plans for the bakeries and delis of Trost.

“We’ll pay you a good amount. It may not be the same as if you would sell to the citizens of Trost, but it’s better than being frozen completely. The government will also give you some extra privileges, but that will be arranged later if you accept,” he smiled down at me as I leaned on the counter. I was trying to mold my face into the one Levi always had on. He was right, even if I was getting paid little per loaf, it would be much more than not selling anything. I could see Jonas in the corner of my eye who looked nothing but suspicious. He had stopped reading the newspaper to listen to the Garrison Captain and I’s conversation. 

“I would get paid in advance, correct? Per loaf? If not, then no deal.” He clenched his jaw, knowing that wasn’t his plan. I wasn’t going to let them exploit me like I knew they had the other bakers. The old couple down the street, the Saunders, had been contacted for the same service at the start of the influx of refugees. That was a week and a half ago. Once they had ran out of their flour and yeast, the Garrison told them to wait and get paid. Because of this, every bakery was hesitant to accept their offer. We, the owners, had been passing letters back and forth with bargaining tips. I was the first one to test them out and I’d write later on their success. 

“If we cannot pay you in money, we can give you more supplies and food in place. You know how it is, everyone is being drained. The Garrison soldiers are down to two meals a day.” Oh, boohoo. I could care less about the Garrison. They’ve been hoarding food for themselves and have limited the refugees to a single loaf, a bowl of soup, and a jug of water per day. 

“And how many meals do you give the refugees per day?” I raised an eyebrow and his jaw clenched even tighter. I had to accept the offer to get by, but I was going to make him feel bad about it.

“Will you accept or not? There are countless other bakeries in Trost…” I smiled, knowing he was lying to me. Almost every sensible bakery declined their offer last week. He’d have to go back to them and beg if he lost me.

“Let me hand out the bread. It’s my bread and I want to make sure it goes to the right people. You have the power to let me do that, don’t you, Captain?” He widened his eyes, probably surprised I even accepted. He didn’t care about the formalities after that.

“Of course, Eva. Whatever you want,” he grabbed my hand, shaking it wildly, “Thank you for accepting! Come tomorrow at nine in the morning with the number I gave you!” He quickly ran out of the café, making sure I couldn’t add on any more rules. Jonas pulled a face as he set the newspaper on the table. 

“You shouldn’t have accept it, Eva. Business will be up again soon and you know they won’t pay you. You know what they did to Ida and George,” he shook his head in disapproval. Jonas had little faith in anyone it seemed.

“It’s to help the refugees, Jonas, not the Garrison. If I can bring at least a little joy to their faces, I’d be happy. It’s heartbreaking to watch them aimlessly walk around Trost with those looks on their faces.” It was the Underground all over again. I thought I had escaped it.

“If I witnessed a titan almost twice the size of the walls, I’d look like that too. They’re saying that it disappeared as fast as it came and it brought in another titan to break through the walls. It’s insane. I’ve seen one titan, and they didn’t look like they were capable of that.” I turned to grab a big bag of flour and start making the bread. Jonas saw my struggle and came over to grab it for me and pull it into the kitchen where the batch mixer was. 

The week he had been here, I had barely gotten sleep until the Scouts returned. My body would calm down for a few hours and then go right back to being seized up and shaking. My overthinking also didn’t help my mental or sleeping state. I had also drank at least four cups of a tea a night.

“I can help you make it, but I have to start delivering again tomorrow. You’ll be on your own dealing with the refugees,” he poured in the flour and I went to fill up the pitchers of water. Jonas still had a huge distrust of the refugees flocking into Trost. It didn’t help that the food shortage was making them desperate. News of infighting flooded out into the Trost street gossip and everyone was worried when the fighting would also flood out of the barracks. They didn’t see most of the refugee’s faces… most were too weak willed to do those things. Only some had a spark of life left. 

The next morning, I walked into the stock yard, trying to keep my emotions down. Seeing the people fight each other and the faces of those still in shock made me sick to my stomach. These people had lost their homes and families, yet the Garrison was treating them like cattle. Even the children had the same looks as the adults; pained, helpless, and tired. I couldn’t show them my emotions thought. The last thing they want from someone is pity. I knew that well.

“There you are, Eva. We’d like to thank you again for cooperating with us. How many loaves did you bring?” The Captain looked down at me and I know he was reluctant to hear my answer. 

“Three hundred, like you asked,” I gestured to the bags on the cart I was pulling. He winced at that number and pulled out the notes to pay me. I stuffed the money inside my jacket and pulled the cart over to the soup that was being poured out. He probably didn’t think I could make that many loaves in a short time.

“They got you to listen to them too, huh, Eva?” It was the deli owned three streets down. When I needed to add meat in any of my winter pastries, I would always go to him. No one had the money for meat at the moment, that’s probably why he was here. No one needed specialty bread or pastries, that’s why I was here.

“I’m here for the refugees. I know the Garrison is hoarding supplies and has enough to feed them. They offered to pay me two large bags of flour everyday I brought bread. There’s nothing I can do about them, but I can try and help those who are being cheated from it.” He smiled at me and nodded in agreement. 

“I grew up in Shiganshina. My brother was still there, but he’s missing,” he had a sad look in his eyes as he glanced over the people, “It’s selfish of me, but I hope one day while I’m serving them, he’ll walk up for a bowl.” That made me want to cry. The pain I was pushing down for these people slapped me in the face when he told me that. It made me even angrier that the people were fighting for their lives and I still hear the Garrison soldiers mocking them.

“Refugees! Line up in an orderly line! You will get one large bowl of soup and one loaf of bread! If we see anyone try to sneak more, you’re rations will be taken and redistributed!” As soon as the Captain stepped down from the crate, people came rushing to us. They pushed and shoved each other, desperate to get to the front of the line. I looked down at the ground, not wanting to see it any longer. The government was dehumanizing them and the effects were showing as early as a week. When I handed out the bread, some even growled as they finally got their hands on food. Fights had broken out on the other end of the line as people were trying not to be last and the Garrison just stood there watching. My pity had turned into raging anger. The Garrison were the ones who were useless. They don’t deserve the taxes I pay them.  

“Ma’am, I have two other children with me. I didn’t want them to get shoved around, can I please have two more loaves?” I looked at the old man who had a straw gardeners hat on the top of his head. Next to him stood a young child, eleven or twelve, with a mop of golden hair on his head. His blue eyes looked up and pleaded with me, urging me that the man, probably his grandfather, was telling me the truth. The Garrison solider next to me stopped him from continuing.

“If they’re not in line with you, they’ll have to get their own,” he glared down at the two and I glared up at him. They weren’t lying and I was going to give them the two extra bread loaves, whether the Garrison guard liked it or not. 

“They’re over there! Please, sir!” The younger boy pointed to the center and you really couldn’t make out who he was pointing to because of the amount of people, but if you squinted there were in fact two kids who seemed to be of similar age to the boy. One with a red scarf and the other a brown jacket.

“With all due respect sir, I see no reason not to give them the loaves. It’s my bread after all.” He switched his glare to me and huffed. He thinks he’s so high and mighty when he’s being absolutely useless. If they were there to help the refugees, they wouldn’t have shoved them in a place used for cattle stock.

“If you give them that bread, be prepared for everyone else to fake the existence of children. We have people to feed, Eva.” I didn’t falter and I handed the young boy three loaves, one for him and two for the others. He beamed up at me, surprised by my kindness. I bet the locals and soldiers weren’t very kind to them and I know they hear the insults daily. I knew the impact of insults well. 

“By denying this bread, you’re starving two children. We have to feed people... Sir.” 

“Thank you so much miss!” The boy turned around and ran to join his friends. I smiled at the sight and handed his grandfather his loaf and soup bowl.

“Thank you so much for your kindness,” he smiled up at me as well, but the guard shoved him along before I could say anything back. 

“I’ll tell the Captain to deduct that from your next pay out. You’ll turn these people into freeloading, charity cases if you keep it up.” My gazed hardened and I passed bread onto the next person. 

“The only freeloaders I see are you and your fellow soldiers. You can give me two bags of flour a day, but not feed these people more than once?” He grit his teeth at me and rage filled his eyes.

“Why, you-”

“You haven’t even seen it happen!” He stopped, his fist in the air, and turned to the shouting that filled the square. The refugees in line turned too. It was the other boy, the one with the brown jacket, his eyes filled with rage as he yelled up at the Captain.

“How a titan eats a human!” My eyes widened and the anger rose to my throat again. Before the solider could hit the boy again, it was the blonde one who jumped in front to defend his friend on the ground. Whatever he said, and the pressure of the other refugees watching, made the Captain walk away. Everyone slowly turned their attention back to getting rations, but I couldn’t take my eyes off the trio who were standing up to go eat their bread. I couldn’t look away from the boy.

He was like Levi. The child no doubt had seen people eaten by titans as he escaped Shiganshina and was dealing with his hurt alone. Everyone around him was going through the same trauma, and the people of Trost didn’t care to listen. Is this how Levi feels? Surrounded by all these people, but forever alone in his experience with titans? I wanted to walk over to the kid and tell him that I’d listen to him. I’d let him tell me all the hurt he’s been through and try to make him feel better. 

“Do you know what those kids names are?” The guard seemed reluctant to hand me information after I just insulted him. 

“Who? Those three? I only know the one who was shouting. His name is Eren Jaeger and his father is a doctor. The blonde boy tries to solve all the fights he gets in and the oriental girl has to help Eren sometimes. She beat up another kid who Eren got in a fight over soup. That kid… he has so much rage he fights like hell is about to freeze over. If he was an adult, we’d have kicked him out already. I’m half minded to do it after he just kicked the Captain,” He crossed his arms and looked over the the trio again.

“Send them to me,” I blurted out, not knowing what my plan was. I just saw kids who needed help. A second chance at life. They were like me.

“If they are ever too much or, I don’t know, if they do anything, don’t kick them out, just send them to me. I need help making the bread anyways.” The guard rolled his eyes at me, probably thinking I wasn’t serious. Hopefully, if that day ever happens, he’ll remember what I said. I wanted to help heal those kids.

“Sure, yeah, whatever. Hand out the bread.” 

Walking back, cart empty, I was still thinking about that boy. The emotion in his eyes was indescribable. I’ve never seen someone his age with that type of trauma so evidently displayed in his eyes. Well, no kid above ground. 

“Eren Jaeger,” I repeated his name again. I wanted to help him and his friends, but the only way I could right now was to make them bread. I hope someday they do end up outside of my café. Maybe I can ask Levi about how I can get around the Garrison.

Levi. I smiled softly thinking about the man. The Scouts returned the sixth day after the news of Wall Maria in the middle of the night. It might have been a move so that no one could see them return, or it just happened to turn out that way when delivering the refugees that came on foot. Jonas had woken me up, as I was passed out over a cup of tea, and we looked out my apartment window at them. He was on his horse, hood up, and riding next to Erwin. I could tell by the way his shoulders were slumped over he was exhausted. It was enough for me to see him like that and I knew they would be ruthlessly busy in the next coming months. I couldn’t be greedy on wanting time with him. It had been about a half a week since they had returned and there were Scouts doing security work, but none had been Levi.

“I’ll try my best to be with you,” he had told me.

I had stayed at the Scouts HQ for one night and missed the Spring Equinox, but getting to be around Levi after so long was worth it. He had caught me up on what he was doing the past few months and how I needed to avoid Hange like the plague because she was crazy. I had developed a fondness for her, and she was the only other person I had talked to at the HQ, so I didn’t listen. She had taken me back, not without questioning the Captain and I’s relation, and I had to fend her off. Levi had stated that if we were to pursue some form of relationship, he would want it, like everything else in his life, to be private. It was more of a ‘people might try to gain leverage on me’ private than an embarrassed one, so I agreed. If it was unavoidable for people to know in a certain situation, then we would indulge them, but never in any other time.

“So… what are you and Captain?” She put the saddle on the horse I was riding. 

“Friends. I make him tea he gives me company. Nothing more.” With her intelligence, she would see through that lie easily. No one demands a friend for over a month.

“Friends?” She raised an eyebrow and tighten the strap around the horse’s belly. 

“He comes around once a month and I give him a specific tea he likes from the capital.” She held her chin, thinking about it for a bit until she just shrugged. 

I turned the corner ran into someone who was stopped and looked up at them to apologize. I had gotten lost in my thoughts and let muscle memory take me back to the café. Before I could open my mouth, a knife was at my neck. I instantly panicked and looked at my surroundings.

“You’re the one that Captain gave the money to, aren’t you?” He smiled down at me and I backed up right into another person.

“Eva Flynn, wasn’t it? You gave us bread.” Two refugees. They had saw me put the money in my pocket and were now trying to rob me. My gaze hardened, trying to stay vigilant, but fear crept up in me when my arms were grabbed from the back. I was too weak to physically push away from these two. 

Looking up and down the alley way, there was no one around. It was time to be at work or sheltering in your house. If I screamed, there would be no one to help me and my throat would just be slit. I’d been in situations like this before and they never ended well. I couldn’t show them my fear, that was the worst thing that could happen.

“It’s already in the bank, sorry.” I was very aware of the money that I had stuffed in my jacket’s inner pockets. It was burning a hole in my chest. Losing this money would be like losing two days of wages. The other one’s grip tightened and my shoulder blades were burning at the force. 

“We followed you here. We know you’re lying to us,” The front one smirked and pushed the knife further into my neck. The stinging signified he had cut open my skin. The fear was growing more and more. I was so close to the café, but no one was there. Quickly, I was regretting closing. 

“Just take the money, you know I have it.” He smirked and put his hand on my cheek. He wanted to bite off more than he could chew. 

“Now where would the fun in that be?” I spit in his face and he quickly answered back with a slap. This made my neck move along the knife, cutting in deeper. It was deep enough that I was finally in pain. I could feel warm liquid spread to the collar of my button up.

“Don’t make this harder on yourself,” the one behind whispered in my ear. The hair on the back of my neck stood up. He was the first one to try anything, grabbing my hip and then untucking my shirt from my skirt. I made sure my lower body struggled while minding the knife on my neck. I wasn’t going to let them win easily.

“I’ll report you to the Garrison,” I choked out loud as he shoved his hand in, touching the skin on my stomach. I tensed up and he laughed when he felt it. 

“You won’t be able to report us if you go missing.” My eyes widened a little bit, still trying to hide my emotions from the one in front. He was just staring down at me as his partner’s hand run along my torso and slowly going up. What an awful way to die. I thought at least I’d get eaten by a titan and go out with a bang.

I kicked the back one in the groin and he made a noise in pain, but not before grabbing the life out of abdomen. I yelped in pain and the one in front responded by elbowing me in the side. Not being stabilized by the back one, I fell sideways and was swiftly kicked in the ribs when I hit the ground. He started kicking my side over and over again, making me cough with every attack. If my adrenaline wasn’t rushing, I would’ve felt two of my ribs breaking from his force. 

I closed my eyes trying to breathe through the pain. I’d been in similar situations before and it’s always over quick if you try to focus on something else. Soon, they got bored because you were crying out in pain and they’d take what they needed and leave. Maybe if I went limp, they would run away because they would think I was dead. They didn’t seem like the type who would kill for fun like in the Underground. 

“Bitch!” He raised his knife in the air and I braced for impact. If he stabbed anywhere between my ribs, I was definitely done for.

“If you scream, little girl, no one will care enough to hear you.”

“Fu-” the knife clattered on the ground next to me and I opened my eyes. With how cloudy my vision and mind was, I could only focus on the brick wall in front of me. There was the man who groped me, hand stuck to the wall with a knife. The look on his face was pure fear. It sounded like the front attacker was being pounded into next week out of frame.

“You think you can fucking touch anyone, you vermin? I’ll rip off both of your arms so you’ll never be able to grope a woman again.” The venom in my savior’s voice scared even me. The guy pinned to the wall seemed to gain the will to live and, with a shout, pulled the knife out of his hand. He stepped over me and lunged at the assailant who easily stepped aside and I heard the man let out a harsh breath as he came in contact with the wall by my feet. I wished I could see them getting beaten up as retribution, but I would have to just deal with only hearing the sounds.

“I guess I should’ve just cut your hands off completely. Maybe I will,” The knife beside me was picked up, and thrown across the alleyway. You could hear it zoom in the air and rip into the other hand. A loud scream followed, cutting across the silence alleyway. I bet my attackers wished they picked a more crowded place so someone could save them. I laughed at the turn of events, but stopped when a pain went through my side.

“Do you have any last words before I carve out your organs one by one?” Footsteps echoed as my knight advanced forward. I’d have to stop him.

“Please, no! Mercy, I beg of you! We just need money!” I started silently laughing again at just how cowardly my attackers really where. I was right, if they killed me, they probably would have panicked and ran away. Once faced with the consequences of their actions, they were on their knees begging for forgiveness. And how crazy was I to want to give it to them? 

I sat up as best as I could, leaning mostly on my hands. I still couldn’t turn to see what was happening, but I knew he was thinking about the best way to get revenge. I’ll stop him here.

“Levi,” I coughed out. The footsteps stopped. 

“Hm?” It felt like I was interrupting him with the tone he gave back. 

“Let’s just go home, yeah? You’re not fit to murder humans anymore.” 

“What if I want to get back into shape?” It was a threat to the attacker still conscious and I heard him whimper as Levi probably glared holes into him. His voice was still dripping with venom. 

“He’s probably lost use of both of his hands, isn’t that punishment enough?” He grunted.

“Yeah, listen to her! She doesn’t want to kill us!” There was a yelp after that sentence and I wondered what Levi did to him. I didn’t care about my attacker or their lives. I cared that Levi didn’t get anymore blood on his hands than there was already. He left that life.

“Shut your mouth!” 

“It’s your choice, but you know my opinion.” I’d give him control of the situation and hopefully that logical mind of his would see that I was right… or at least what my motives were. There was a pause as he thought it over and I dropped back onto the ground when my arms gave out. The pain was creeping back in as adrenaline slowly left my body.

“Tomorrow, you’ll be reported to the Garrison. I have your faces memorized, and you can’t hide your wounds. Enjoy your last night of freedom.” It was completely reluctant and the knife he was holding clattered to the ground. The attacker let out a cry like he was thanking some higher power that he wasn’t just brutally murdered by Humanity’s Strongest. I was swiftly picked up and I closed my eyes taking a big breath. After I was in the clear, the emotions and adrenaline hit me like a truck. 

“I’m going to throw up.”

“I’m going to hit you if you do.” I laughed shallowly again, but went to clutch my side as I did. That probably made him increasingly upset. He didn’t even look down at me, just stared ahead slipping in and out of alleyways to not be seen. 

With my blurry vision, I took the chance to stare at him unashamed. Even with blood splatters on his face, and no doubt his clothes too, he was handsome. Maybe it was the hardened stare and that fact that he saved me from sudden death that made it ten times better to be in his arms. I just soaked it all in knowing he was probably going to drop me on the floor of the café and yell at me for getting attacked.  Empathy is something he needs to actively practice it seems. 

“S-stop staring at me so much,” His grip tightened a bit around my legs, but his voice was soft, “I’ll give you a drawing if you really want.” I smiled goofily up at him. Even when I was barely able to breath, I was going to tease him. This was second nature to me besides the bickering. 

“Why? Do I make you nervous?”  He said nothing, just scoffed and turned his head away from me. I would blame my injuries for the sudden confidence I felt and I laid my head into his chest to check if he was lying. In fact, his heart was beating at the same speed mine was: fast. I did make the Captain as nervous as he made me. He just didn’t know how to exploit me like I did him. I smirked before closing my eyes and settling myself into his chest, claiming it as my new home. There seemed to be no protest as we walked back to the café.

“No, Levi, you can’t take my shirt off!” I glanced over at Jonas whose head was about to burst. Levi’s fist tightened around the bandages and looked at me with utter anger and annoyance in his eyes. I just lightly laughed, and winced only slightly at the pain. I also gave him a little smirk like I had just won our game of chess.

“Who’s idea was it to get her drunk?” Jonas asked Levi through his teeth. Levi rolled his eyes in response and turned back to dress the wound on my neck. He wasn’t going to make his move it seemed. He hadn’t made a move in at least an hour and I was getting bored of teasing him when it had no visible effect. It was probably because of our onlooker.

“My ide-ow!” I glared down at Levi who was diligently at work cleaning my wound with the alcohol I had been drinking. He did that on purpose. If I was sober, that would’ve hurt so much more, but I think what subsided some of the pain was how close Levi was to me... and the alcohol. His head was lowered, in line with my neck so he could see his work, but his breath sent a feeling down my spine. If only Jonas wasn’t here I might have had enough drunk confidence to try and kiss him again. The way he had taken off his jacket and rolled up his sleeves also did something to me, but it was his attitude that was making him more annoying than hot.

Right now, Levi was being Captain again: indifferent, annoyed, and barely talking. I cursed Jonas again for having shown up for delivery as I decided to drink the leftover alcohol I had. Was my intention to get drunk and gain the confidence to tease Levi in his serious state? No, but I wasn’t complaining that it was happening. I was complaining that Jonas decided to stay and observe Levi bandaging me. I knew him saying, ‘I’m worried about you, you were just attacked!’ wasn’t the only reason he was sitting there, arms crossed, glaring at Levi. 

“There’s other ways to numb your body besides drinking a whole bottle of liquor, Eva,” he grumbled and I just took another sip before showing him the bottle. I was barely over half drank.

“I don’t remember you complaining when I said I was going to get drunk at Spring Equinox,” I raised my eyebrow at him and out of the corner of my eye, I saw Levi do the same. I had told him about the get-together I had missed while staying at HQ, but I hadn’t told him it was meant for everyone to get drunk.

“That’s different. You were just attacked and beaten by two men. If anything, I should be worried about how much your drinking seeing how calm you are.” Levi stood up and started wrapping my neck with gauze. My face was near his chest again and I relished in that closeness, knowing he’d easily rip away from it to keep up this tough act in front of Jonas. I just settled with breathing in his scent. He’d spoken only three sentences since Jonas had walked in. 

“This isn’t my first time being mugged, Jonas. Was I scared? A little bit, but this knight came and saved me again.” I patted Levi’s shoulder, and I felt him tense up below my hand. Hm, guess he isn’t used to being touched in the presence of others. 

“How are you two so calm!?” He gripped his head like he was the one who had blood on his clothes. Maybe the blood was making him go a bit insane. He didn’t like blood.

“Getting beat up in the Underground was like... a weekly occurrence. Right, Levi?”

“It’s time for your ribs,” Levi muttered and stepped back. He didn’t answer my question and I glared a bit.

The real reason I was downing this alcohol was because I had two ribs that needed to be reset and I hated feeling actual pain. The adrenaline had worn off sometime between us getting back and me drinking half of the bottle, so it was only the alcohol holding back the pain gates . I knew that once he started, it would definitely come back.

“Can’t I just let them heal weirdly?” He shook his head. Jonas stood up quickly as I was about to lift up my shirt. His face was pale and I remembered then how badly he couldn’t stand any type of blood or bones. Even if he hated that fact, he was going to have to leave or else he’d throw up in front of the man he hated the most. His manliness wasn’t going to let him do that. 

One of the first times I was sent out of the bakery to play with Jonas, his friend had fallen out of a tree and broken his wrist. Being part of the Underground, I knew how to set and patch up wounds. As soon as I set the boys wrist, Jonas threw up next to us. Sometimes, I don’t let him live it down and mentioned it in the present. He looked too distressed now to mess with him and I knew he was on his way out. Now, I could actually be around Levi. 

“I’ll come back after I’m off work. You,” he pointed to me, “stay inside, and you,” he boldly pointed at Levi who gave him his famous glare, “don’t try anything funny.” I laughed a bit and took another long sip. 

“I’ll beat him up if he does, Jonas.” He took one long look at Levi and I before grabbing his cart and walking out to deliver more things. Levi made sure he was far down the street before speaking.

“Thank gods he left. I was about to throw that damn bottle at him. He looks like he wants to kill me for the simplest things.” I smiled as Levi finally said his first real sentence in an hour. 

“He was just worried about me. You saw his face when he walked in and saw the blood on my neck. He hates blood or anything like that, so I’m surprised he stayed for that long. He also wants to beat you up, deep down. If he ever finds out about us, he’ll probably explode.” I took another swig and before I could finish, Levi yanked the bottle out of my hands and finished it off in three gulps.

“Hey!” He ignored my shouts and dodged my hands as he finished the last third before slamming it back down on the table. He let out a small groan of regret before standing back up and wiping off his lips.

“You don’t need to drink anymore. I’m surprised you didn’t try to grope me like you did when I carried you back.” My mouth shot open at the insult and he smirked. Captain Levi was gone, but at my expense. He had moved his chess piece.

“I grabbed you because you were about to drop me,” a lie, but I wanted to save a little face. Maybe I did grab onto his shirt when we were walking back… perhaps a bicep too. 

“What’s the boy to you?” It took me a second to realize he was talking about Jonas and I smirked. Was he getting jealous possibly? He did have an annoyed look on his face. 

“My first above ground friend. His parents were friends with Mr. Flynn, so whenever I was getting annoying, I’d be sent out to play with Jonas. We went to school together too. He’s my best friend, starting from age twelve.” That didn’t seem to wipe the annoyed look off of his face. He waved his hand for me to scoot back on the table. I raised up my shirt and tucked the ends into my bra so he had full view on my stomach. The bruises were already starting to show. 

“But he doesn’t want to be your best friend? Friend friend versus Levi friend.” My eyes widened and I went to sit back up, but the pain stopped me. 

“You heard that?!” He nodded and my eyes widened. How embarrassing. 

“That was probably the first indication I had feelings for you. When he confessed, I wanted to jump down and…” He trailed off, but this showing of emotion made me feel warm inside again. The butterflies came back too. There was a short bit of silence as he got the bandages ready to wrap around my middle and I just watched. Now, he was just hot, not annoying.

“I’m happy that you’re doing this. You have a lot of experience with rib care.” He playfully glared down at me and went to put his hands on my middle. I gasped softly as he did. Not just because his hands were cold, but also because this was the closest he’s ever touched me. Is this what he felt when I undid the bandages on his back? I relished in his touch, knowing the pain was going to come next. His hands were softer than I thought they would be.

“I think the first time I knew I had feelings for you was in your office in the capital.” 

“O-oh?” He stuttered. He found the rib he had to reset and I winced. The alcohol was barely helping and I think my senses were heightened even more because he was touching me like this.  

“I need you to breathe in and when you breathe out, I’ll reset it. This is what Hange does. It’ll be quick, I promise.” I shook my head, not ready for the pain.

“Talk to me while you do it... What… What happened to Wall Maria?” He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. This would be the first time he’s talked to me about an expedition in full detail. A step on the way to being comfortable with mixing me and his reality. 

“If you promise not to talk and breathe correctly.” This time, I just nodded once and he got ready to push my rib back into the right spot, “When you’re ready, take a big breath in to signal me.” 

“Okay.” He paused for a moment, just staring down at his hand, probably finding a place to start. I wondered if he felt the same way I did when I touched his skin. Could he feel my heart beat? I don’t really have to hide it anymore.

“The refugees said it was a titan taller than the wall who started it. He disappeared as soon as they could get a good glimpse at him. Into thin air apparently. Then, there was a titan that had plates on his body. Armor. He was the one who rammed through the walls. It wasn’t abnormals who learned how to climb like we thought. They were... intelligent.” I breathed in and out and he pushed down. I took a big gasp of air as pain went through my side and I clenched my jaw. 

“Fuck!” The ache came after the pain and Levi moved his hand up to the next rib he had to put into place. If he had broken almost all of his ribs, it had to be torture for him to reset all of them. I’m about to scream from this pain and it’s just one rib. I looked up to him and he had that same indifferent expression when he was recalling Wall Maria.

“We haven’t seen titans like this before,” he continued, “and it’s changed our mindset on fighting them. When we went to find the refugees who fled on foot, we didn’t encounter any other titans like that. That’s another reason we think they’re intelligent. They know how and when to hide. Who knows where they went?” 

“Ow, ow, ow, ow!” That rib was a little higher up and a lot more painful. At least we were done. I sat there breathing hard through my teeth and some tears came to my eyes. Once I seemed settled, he helped me sit up and started tightly wrapping the bandages around my upper stomach like he had.

“For now, the Royal Government has suspended Scout Expeditions because they want to use us as their security. They’re too afraid to lower the MPs in Mitras even though they should. We have a meeting with them soon to plan our next steps for Wall Maria and the overpopulation of the outer cities.” 

“Did you see Shinganshina?” He shook his head no and finished wrapping the bandages. I pulled my shirt down and sat at the edge of the table we used as a work space. He turned and leaned on the edge next to me, his arms crossed. 

“We didn’t get close enough. Too many titans and too many people to protect. We were already low on people from the expedition and it took almost everything to get the people of Shiganshina into Trost.” I turned to look at his face and saw the emotion in his eyes. Tired.  

“Do you remember how people looked in the Underground? The ones who walked around all day and night, going from bar to bar, and had no drive to do anything but drink?” He nodded. 

“That’s what most of the refugees look like. They have no drive or any want to do anything. They look paralyzed by fear and dead on the inside. Only a few have something in them that makes them keep fighting.” 

“Rage.” It sounded like he was speaking from personal experience and it suddenly made me want to ask him about his time in the Underground, but I didn’t want to further exhaust him. That was one of the things I was most curious about. Did we over lap? Go to the same places? Do we know the same people?

“That sounds about right. There was this young boy there today who picked a fight with the Garrison Captain. The look in his eyes… I still can’t stop thinking about it, it gave me chills. Rage,” I nodded, “It was pure rage in his eyes. I offered the Garrison to send him to me, along with his two friends.” Levi huffed next to me, probably knowing my motivations behind the offer. I basically gave him the same offer when he walked into the café for the first time… it just wasn’t out loud. 

“What happens if they come and he gets into a fight with one of the customers?” I shrugged and looked out the side window he was staring at. Only a few people were walking the streets, probably for late lunch. It was much less than before Wall Maria fell. 

“I closed for the time being. If anything, they would help me make bread for the refugees. I’d give them a proper meal, too.” 

“You’d give them a second chance like you do everyone else?” There was a bit of sarcasm behind his voice and I knew he had found the time to reprimand me. I was sobering up because of the pain and Jonas wasn’t here; it was perfect. I guess I’d let him get it over with.

“They were desperate and just needed money. It wasn’t like they were going to kill me for fun. Besides, you’re turning them in tomorrow, so they’ll get what’s coming to them. The Garrison is hungry to put some of the refugees in jail.” He rolled his eyes and uncrossed his arms, resting his hands on the edge of the table. When he’s mad, he seems to like to grip something. Control.

“They were going to use you and then kill you. It doesn’t matter why they did it, it only matters that they’re still roaming the streets. You don’t think they’ll do it again? If I hadn’t caught them, think of what they’d do to you.” His voice was growing in anger and I looked down at my thumbs, focusing on my breath. I definitely felt like a child being reprimanded by their parents. 

“I didn’t tell you to leave them alone for their sake.” I mirrored his position, putting my hands down on the edge of the table. We still weren’t looking at each other. I wonder why.

“You don’t need to worry about who or what I kill, Eva. It was justified.” His voice got softer this time, probably understanding my reasonings. He didn’t agree, but at least he knew why I did it. 

“I know I don’t. Most of the time what you do doesn’t concern me, but that doesn’t mean I can’t be concerned for you. I didn’t want you to kill anyone. You don’t have to kill to survive anymore… humans that is.” I became bold again and put my hand over his on the edge of the table. He didn’t move away from affection this time, but looked down at me hand. 

“I’m going to teach you how to fight. That’s how I’ve decided to conclude this situation. I won’t always be there to save you like I was today and that thought makes me even angrier. I can’t even protect you and that…” his jaw clenched and I felt his hand grip the table harder trying to compose himself, “I have a few days off, so I’ll stay here and teach you. The thought of leaving you here helpless when I go off places… I don’t like that thought.” I nodded and gripped his hand, telling him I understood. We sat there like that for a bit, probably both liking the closeness.

“Are you okay?” He looked up at me and the concern in his eyes made me feel something deep inside. My body felt so warm and I wanted to lean into him and have him hold me like he had before. I don’t know what stopped me. 

“I think I’ll be fine after being trained by Humanity’s Strongest.” I shifted incorrectly trying to hop off the table and almost crumbled to the floor. He caught me and helped me stand up like I did to him. He even gripped my shoulder like before, trying to balance me next to him. I made sure to take some liberties and lean on his side.

“I think we should wait a day since you can’t stand. I might be Humanity’s Strongest, but I can’t teach someone who incapacitated.” I laughed a bit and leaned in more.

“If you hold me like this, I might just stay incapacitated for a while longer.” He froze realizing he couldn’t escape my teasing, even if it was directly after a serious conversation. He must have thought that only drunk me was capable of being that bold. 

“I-I… What do you… I’ll… I’ll drop you!” He looked away from me as I laughed up at him lightly. Another blush point. 

“I’m tired. Can you take me upstairs?” He nodded and we started walking to the back door through the kitchen. I was debating what to say next as we walked up the stairs slowly.

“It’s fun, you know,” He looked back at me and I made sure we were halfway up the stairs before I said what I wanted too, “To other people you’re so tough and emotionless, but I can say one sentence and make you stutter so easily.” He stopped walking and looked down at his feet. He couldn’t leave me now and was trapped in dealing with me. This was power. 

“I said I’d drop you,” he squealed out trying to make it sound low and intimidating. It just sounded like he was struggling to stay composed.

“You look tired too. My bed is big enough for both of us.” Sleeping together seemed to be a touchy subject for him. When I was at the HQ, he was going to get a cot for him to sleep on and would let me use his bed. I obviously declined as he was still injured and suggested we just sleep together. That probably was the reddest he ever turned in front of me. It may have been coupled with the fact that I had teased him about it before, but I ended up sleeping on the cot outside his bedroom door. I wonder if he’d ever shared a bed with someone in his life. 

“I’m not tired.” We started walking up the stairs again. 

“Yes you are. It’s not like I’m going to do anything, my ribs are broken. I do have to warn you though, I’ve been told I’m a sleep cuddler.” With that, he picked me up completely and kicked my door open. He walked over to my bedroom and launched me on the bed from my doorway. The pain was probably meant as payback for teasing him. He looked down at me from the doorway, his eyes glaring at me. I bet he hated being at the mercy of my jokes. No control. 

“S-Stop… talk, stop talking and go to sleep… brat,” He tched before closing the door. I smirked up at the ceiling and moved under my blankets. The porcelain clanging signaled to me that he was in fact staying and probably making some tea.

“I’ll get you in here someday, Captain!” I yelled through the door and heard the dishes stop moving. I started laughing as I left him helpless again.

“Shut up and go to sleep!”

Chapter Nine→

Chapter Masterlist

xx My semester is starting soon so updates may become less frequent, but don’t worry I’m still here! Now that we’ve gotten to the start of AOT a lot of the next chapters will revolve around it, but from Eva and Levi’s relationship POV. My plan is to end it where the anime ends, so don’t worry there's a lot of Eva x Levi to come. Should we think of a name for them? Leva? Evi? Anyways, thank you for all the support and love you’re giving to this story!!!!! Maybe comment some plot moments in AOT that you’d like to see with Eva and Levi in it! xx 

[sunmoonandeddie]

and grace, my fears relieved

pairing: steve rogers x reader

word count: 2,623

summary: You meet someone new in the most unlikely of ways during the quarantine in New York City.  A hospital isn’t the worst place to meet someone, right?

chapter warnings: swearing, both steve and the reader have covid-19, but neither die

masterlist

a/n: Let me know what you think!

The virus started out inconspicuously enough, with just a few cases here and there that everyone assumed would be quarantined and taken care of, but Steve was paranoid.  How could he not be?

He’d been a sick kid.  Real sick.  And then when he was a teenager, he got some revolutionary kind of treatment for his heart and lungs and it was like his entire body had been kickstarted.  He shot up a foot taller and gained over a hundred pounds.

He had the stretch marks to prove it.

Granted, he had to work a little to gain as much as he did.  After the treatment, the weight gaining workouts and diet plans suddenly worked.  He looked… normal.  And then he buffed up.  Real big.

It came in handy pretty often with his job.  He had become a firefighter, and carrying people out of burning buildings was often part of the job.

Fires still happened in a quarantine.  If anything, they happened more frequently because people were home and the number one cause of house fires was unattended cooking.  A parent could be cooking any meal of the day and then their kid distracts them and boom.  Fire.

So he worked overtime, day in and day out.

But that didn’t mean he wasn’t scared.  He was scared shitless.

It was like his ma used to say, back when she was alive, “Just because you’re scared doesn’t mean you run away.  You fight back for what’s right.”

Sarah Rogers had been a lot smarter than people assumed.  She was a former socialite, and an Irish Catholic one at that.  Her parents had an absolute conniption when she’d fallen in love with a former convict.  His dad had been in and out of jail for petty things.

It certainly hadn’t been her choice to fall in love with him.  But she had told him that if he didn’t get his act together, she wasn’t going to be with him.

He’d straightened himself up and become an outstanding citizen.

But that hadn’t stopped her family from disowning her.  Once she refused to break up with him, she was out.  Out of their house, out of their wills, everything.

She went from wearing Valentino and Chanel to items picked out at Goodwill.

But Steve’s parents had loved him more than anything.

He’d become a firefighter just like his dad.  He wanted to help people just like him, and well… That’s what he was doing now.

Or had been, until his throat had started to hurt.  And when it hadn’t let up three days later, even after a plethora of cough drops and teas, he went to the hospital.

It had only been about a month since it really started and the first dozen cases showed up in New York City.  He’d been cautious—overly cautious, some might say—but he still had to go to work.  And who knows how many people he’d come into contact with that had the virus?

It was still early days.  He was able to get the test, and for that, he was lucky.

But then he had to go home and wait.

And then he got the call.  He had to immediately go back to the hospital to be quarantined.  He’d been put in a hospital room that was usually used as a private room in the Emergency Room—a trauma room, they called it.  Trauma Room 2.

All of their other hospital rooms were taken.  It was a lot worse than anyone had let on.

He was there for about twenty minutes before you got there, clearly terrified and holding a duffel bag full of clothes so you wouldn’t just have to wear the scratchy ass hospital gowns.

He’d only thought to bring two different pairs of sweatpants and a few sweatshirts, as well as his usual pairs of jeans.

But he was quickly finding that those weren’t too comfortable to wear while being quarantined.

Maybe he’d be able to convince someone to run down to the hospital gift shop to grab him something to wear.  Some Brooklyn Hospital sweats or something.

“Hey.”

He looked up from his tablet, looking for the source of the voice.  God, he was so tired.  And everything hurt.  There was only so much that honey could do for his voice.

“Hey!  Over here!”  The voice broke off into a coughing fit, and it sounded nasty.  Real nasty.  The kind of coughing that hacks up a lung.

He gets up out of his bed with a grunt, feeling like the weight of the world was on his shoulders.  And not the big, strong shoulders he had no.  The weak little skinny ones he had before.  The ones where he could barely lift a gallon of milk in each hand without getting overworked.

You’re sitting on the ground, taking deep breaths as you try to catch your breath.  “Hey,” you said with a weak smile.  “You got any cough drops?  I ran out and my nurse said she was gonna try to find me more two hours ago.”

There’s no medicine available to treat the virus.  So they just treat the symptoms.

And there’s a severe shortage of cough medicine amongst the patients, but no one really mentioned that.

“Yeah,” he said as he walked over to his little bedside table.  He opened the drawer, pushing the Bible left inside to the side and grabbing the cough drops.  He grabbed four little individually wrapped pieces before dragging his feet back to the doorway.

He couldn’t lie, sitting down looked really nice right at that moment.  His heart felt like it was going to beat out of his chest just from walking that short distance.  So he sunk to his knees and leaned back against the doorframe, on the opposite side that you were.

Even though he’d become a firefighter like his dad, he didn’t understand how he could have such a strong faith in God when things like this happened.  Sitting across from you, seeing how tired and run down you looked, he wasn’t sure he believed at all.  How could a God that claimed to be so benevolent and loving do this?  Or at least not step in and do something to stop it?

“Did you bring the goods?” You asked with a bit of a laugh, before breaking off into a deep cough.  “Fuck…”

“Me, too,” he said softly as he grabbed one of the cough drops and tossed it in your direction.

You groaned as it landed behind you, shooting him a glare.  “Do I look like a basketball player to you?”

Steve let out a snort as he grabbed another one.  “Okay, are you ready this time?” He asked, raising a single blonde brow.

“Oh, my god, yes.  Please, just throw it,” you said, but there was a slight grin toying at the corner of your mouth.

“What’s the magic word?” He asked.  This was, quite honestly, the most fun he’d had in ages.

You gave him a look that said you’d kill him if he didn’t give you a cough drop.  “Give me a cough drop before I break down sobbing because it hurts so bad?” You deadpanned.

“Okay, okay.  No need to get dramatic,” he said before he tossed another one.  This one hit your forehead before falling into your lap.

“If you want dramatic, I can turn into a Disney princess right now,” you giggled.  Your voice was weak, but it was hard to muster up the energy to talk sometimes.  Actually, not even sometimes.  Most times.

He watched you for a minute as you worked the wrapper of the cough drop off and popped it into your mouth.  “I’m Steve.  Steve Rogers.”

“Well, hello, Steve.  Steve Rogers,” you said with a giggle, your words slightly distorted from the hard candy in your mouth.  You gave him your name as he tossed you the other two cough drops.

It was nice to have someone to talk to.  It had been four days since the two of you entered the hospital before you had called out to him.  And yeah, he still had his phone.  He texted and called Bucky everyday, but it wasn’t the same as having a face-to-face conversation.

It also kinda helped that you were really, really pretty, even when you were sick and exhausted.

In fact, he couldn’t remember anyone that he thought was as pretty as you.

“Stevie?” You said a week and a half later.  It had gotten worse.  So much worse.  You had breathing tubes in, as well as an IV.  His wasn’t as bad.  He just required the IV.

Your nurses tried to get you to stay in your beds, but they soon gave up the fight, choosing instead to help the both of you move your chairs so you could talk to each other, separated by a hallway.

“Yeah, doll face?”  Steve’s heart was hurting as he watched you with sad blue eyes. You were wrapped up in one of his hoodies, drowning in the fabric.  He’d gotten Bucky to run by his apartment and grab him some more comfortable clothes, though he’d had to leave it with a doctor and wasn’t allowed to see him.

They couldn’t risk it. “They’re talking about a second wave,” you said as you wrapped your blanket tighter around you, pulling your knees up to your chest.  “They wanna start opening things in late May…  But it’s too early…  I…”  You swallowed thickly, your heart pounding against your rib cage.  “I’m so scared, Stevie.”

“Hey…”  There was nothing he wanted more than to be able to walk across the hall and take you into his arms.  “Whatever happens, you’ve got me.  You hear me?  We’re in this together, okay?  And we’re gonna make it.  We’re gonna make it because we gotta.”

That night, he waited for the lights to go out and for the nurses to switch over to the night shift.  A lot of the nurses weren’t as vigilant about taking care of them as the day shift, and he knew he could use that to his advantage.

He knew this was risky, but he had to do it.

Steve carefully got out of bed and dragged his monitor behind him, taking slow measured steps.  He’d waited about an hour after rounds, knowing that they wouldn’t be coming for another three.  It gave him plenty of time.  He tiptoed across the hall after ensuring that the coast was clear, slipping into your room.

The room was bathed in a soft blue light coming from the open curtains, a billboard outside flashing.  You looked so peaceful, finally asleep after tossing back and forth for hours.  The blue tones glistened against your soft skin.  You were so quiet that his eyes instinctively flickered over to the heart monitor, listening to the quiet beeping that reassured him that you were alive.

He wobbled the chair over to the side of your bed, being careful not to drag it so it didn’t squeak and alert a nurse or doctor.  When it was finally in place, he sunk into it with a relieved sigh.

Your nose scrunched up at the faint noise.

“Dollface,” he whispered as he gently caressed your cheek, his heart pounding.  This was the first time he’d ever gotten to touch you.  This was the first time he’d been close enough to even attempt it.

Your eyes fluttered open, blinking sleepily at him.  “Stevie?”

“Hey…,” he said softly as he traced the patterns of her face.  “It’s me…  Don’t worry…”

“What are you doing here?” You asked, her voice a hoarse whisper.  “We’re supposed to be—”

“I know,” he said as he gently scratched your scalp.  “But I’m worried…  And you need me.”

You slowly relaxed back against your pillow as your eyes searched his face.  He liked when you were soft like this.

Well, he liked you all the time, but still.  He liked you most when you were sleepy and relaxed.

“How are you feeling?”

With a shrug, you let your eyes close again.  “I don’t know…  I’ve been better.”  A sigh escaped your lips as you opened your eyes again, trying your best to not melt too far into him.  You didn’t want to fall asleep when this was the first time you’d gotten to feel him near.  “We’re lucky… Our cases aren’t as bad as what others are going through…”

That was true.  Others were on respirators, going into comas.  You two were lucky.

And he was so grateful for that.

“I was thinking…,” he murmured.

A snort.  “That’s never good.”

He gave you a look, raising his brows.  “Apparently people aren’t… completely better even after they’re cleared of the virus…,” he said.  He was watching your face carefully for any sign of a reaction.  “And I live alone.  And you said you have roommates but two of them are considered essential workers, which means there’s a risk of you getting it again…  And I was just thinking…”

“Yeah?...” You probed, sitting up a little.

“We’re gonna need someone to help us… without risking the others that we love, and I just…”  He coughed to clear his throat, his cheeks red.  “I was thinking maybe you could move in for a little while?  Maybe until all this has passed?  And we can… we can…”

Your eyes flickered over his face.  “We can take care of each other?”

Steve nodded, swallowing around the lump that had formed in his throat.  “Yeah.  We can take care of each other…  I’ll have your back and you’ll have mine.  And maybe it’s quick, but... ”

Can’t you feel it? He wanted to ask.  Can’t you feel this thing between us?  This connection that was found and fostered in possibly the darkest time of this generation’s existence?  This love that made me think that maybe there is a Grace in the world?  Because otherwise, how the hell would I have been able to find you?

But he knew that was probably a lot, even if the feeling he had when he looked at her was a little bit more than like.

“But… you barely know me.”

“That’s not true,” he breathed out quietly, a finger running down your jaw.  “I know about your family.  I know your first pet’s name and where it’s buried.  I know that you like white Christmas lights over rainbow because you like how it can look like snow if it’s done right.”

Tears were in your eyes, your cheeks flushed as you listened to him.

A smile crept up on his lips.  “I know you like the citrus flavored cough drops, and you have to sleep with a blanket on, even if it’s eighty degrees outside.  I know how much you love cheesy rom-coms and you can only watch horror movies at night because otherwise you’ll have nightmares.”  His forehead rested against hers, your noses brushing.  “I know you.  And I wanna take care of you.  When we get out of here, I don’t want to forget you.  I want to spend my life with you.  And maybe that’s too much too soon and more than a little cheesy, but—”

“Stevie…”  You were the one who leaned in first and pressed your lips to his, the salty taste of your tears mixing in with your peppermint chapstick.  “I’m not easy to take care of.  I’m even more stubborn when I’m feeling helpless like I am now…”

“That’s okay,” he said as he pecked your lips again, letting it linger.  The two of you knew that a nurse could come down the hall any second and catch you, but it didn’t matter.  You were together and you were alive.  “I don’t need easy.  I just need you.”

[labarboteuse]

Sonate au Clair de Lune (Richard “Dick” Winters x OC)

Hello everyone ! Here is a little something with our favorite ginger-head nobody asked for. I've been wanting to try something for a while now, so here it is, see you at the end of the chapter. Enjoy !x 💕

As always, there’s no disrespect towards the real men of the company. It’s only based on their portrayals in the mini serie

Taglist : @supervalcsi  @ourmiraclealigner | Let me know if you want to be added. 😊

Warning : evocation of a dramatic war event

Sitting on a chair among the audience, Jeanne was stood straight as possible to see the scene where the orchestra was playing composition of Beethoven. As a linen maid in a Parisian hotel, she had spared money for months with her two friends and colleagues Gisèle and Solange to have the chance to afford an entrance for tonight’s performance at the Opera Garnier. Her family had never been rich, but she had received an education and music had been part of the instruction for the girls. She had quickly developed a passion for music but never had the financial means to learn to play an instrument or to attend performances.

The first notes of the “Moonlight Sonata” resounded in the Italian style theatre. Shivers came over her as she unconsciously played with the fabric of her little purse on her lap. Jeanne loved this piece that gave her a deep calm, whenever she felt bad, she would play the notes in her head to calm herself. As the composition was coming to an end, it provided to her a feeling of nostalgia, she thought to her parents she hadn’t seen for a while, her parents she had left few years ago to gain the capital city hoping it would be easier to find a job. Her parents had pushed her to leave the countryside in the Southwest of France where they were living, when she was 19 years old, convinced that she would have a better life by reaching Paris. No one had imagined that barely two years after her arrival war would be declared and that a little less than a year later the city would be under German occupation for the next four years. When Jeanne had arrived, she had to live for a few weeks on the meagre savings her parents had given her, then she finally found a small job as a linen maid in a hotel where she met Gisèle and Solange, the three of them having since become inseparable.

Her thoughts lulled by the music made her forget time and it was only when Solange gently pressed her arm that she came back to reality and realized that the performance was over. She gave her friend a friendly smile and stood up putting her brown coat back on before following her friends towards the exit.

She took advantage of each second passed in the building on her way out to admire the architectural beauty of the place she will not see again so soon. Once the three friends outside, they stopped at the foot of the stairs the time Gisèle lights her cigarette.

“C’était merveilleux!” - “It was wonderful!” exclaimed Solange. Jeanne laughed in front of the sparkling eyes of her friend, who had never had the chance to attend this kind of event either.

“Je suis d’accord, c’était magnifique, j’en ai eu des frissons.” - “I agree, it’s was beautiful, I got chills.” Jeanne passed her hands on her arms with a smile on her face.

Gisèle blew the smoke from her cigarette and nodded her head.

“C’est toi que nous devons remercier pour nous avoir persuadé de venir.”  - “We have you to thank for convincing us to attend.” She said to Jeanne and made a small reverence to her friend which made the three of them laugh.

People would walk by and sometimes look at them with curiosity, sometimes with a haughty look. It was the kind of event that attracted the Parisian gratin, dressed in their most beautiful clothes and adorned with their finest jewellery. And sometimes among this worldliness were simple people who had saved months or even a year to afford a place among the least expensive. Needless to say, Jeanne and her friends made a splash among the crowd.

“Allons-nous en avant qu’ils n’appellent la Maréchaussée pour nous évacuer.” - “We should go before they called the police to evacuate us.”  Gisèle mocked sarcastically.

The three girls laughed before leaving arm in arm. It was getting late but the city was far from sleeping, yet they had to return to their sinister little room on the top floor of an old building because they were starting their day very early. Gisèle and Solange separated from Jeanne once they arrived at their subway station to be able to return to their neighbourhood.

The young women kissed each other before saying good night. Once her two friends had left, Jeanne decided to walk along the Seine and enjoy the clear night and the beauty of the city before returning to her bed.

 As she walked along the quays, she couldn't help but admire the people around her who were enjoying the evening on the terraces of the illuminated bars and restaurants, life went back to normal. Since the Liberation in August, she enjoyed wandering the streets of Paris, especially in the evenings when it was less crowded and it was easier to admire the architectural gems without being pushed around by passers-by. She took pleasure in rediscovering this City of Light that had lost its luster during the past four years. Four years under occupation, fear, constant surveillance, violence generated by the reprisals of German soldiers against the resistance movements of civilians, attacks, shortages and rationing that had led a large part of the population to turn to the black market to provide for their needs, which Jeanne had been a victim of. Her meager salary already did not allow her to live a decent life, she had believed that she would not survive this.

Like many inhabitants, she had been a witness of the arrests of the Vel' d'Hiv’ Roundup in 1942, an event that had deeply marked the population, many of whom had bitter memories. A deep sadness invaded her thinking of all these victims, which gave her a shiver and she tightened her coat around her.

And then came August of that year 1944, the city had been liberated and Jeanne still remembered the feeling of relief.

Lost in her thoughts and without looking where she was going, she didn’t see the silhouette which also didn't look where it was going and ran into it.

The shock made her drop her bag and the program of the evening that she was still holding in her hands as if to prove to herself that the evening had indeed taken place. She crouched down to pick up her things and her head hit the head of the person she had collided with. She held her hand to her forehead and grimaced, releasing a sound of pain. The man had also crouched down to pick up her belongings and stammered something in English that sounded like an apology.

She stood up at the same time as he did, his head down, he glanced at the program he had in his hands and a small smile stretched his lips before straightening his head towards her.

“Sonata No. 14?”

A shy smile was born on her lips and she gently nodded her head, she may not have been bilingual but the music with this universal aspect made her understand what he had said. He gently handed her the booklet and she gently grabbed it and they stood there for a few seconds without either of them letting go of the paper and looking into each other's eyes. Finally, almost embarrassed, he nodded his head without letting go of his little smile and moved aside, passing by her to get back on his way, without taking his eyes off her before finally turning around so as not to bump into someone again.

Jeanne lowered her head towards the program cover with her shy smile still clinging to her lips, a strange feeling in her chest.

She finally returned home without any further incident and went to bed that night-joyful, not really knowing if it was because of her evening or her brief encounter with that soldier.

 ___

The next day she hurried to the hotel where she worked to take her shift. When she arrived she saw that the girls had already arrived and she hastened to take off her coat and put on her black apron, she had lost a few minutes in the subway and this made her arrive slightly late. When she met Solange on the service staircase, she learned that Louise, the fourth girl on the team, was sick and that they had divided up the rooms she should have taken care of between them three.

Jeanne hurried to fetch the clean towels to prepare the rooms before new customers arrived. In her haste she forgot to go upstairs one floor more and opened the door of the second room on the third floor, thinking it was the fourth. She didn't even realize that the door hadn't been locked, so there must was already someone in. She walked towards the bed and bent down to put down the towels on it when she stopped and slowly turned her head over a brown uniform lying there. She was abruptly struck by her stupidity and suddenly straightened herself up, perhaps a little too much, as she stumbled over a pair of boots and was about to finish her fall on her buttocks when she was caught by an arm that slipped around her waist.

Surprised, she quickly deviated of it and apologized, her babbling doesn't really wanted to meant something. She retrieved the towels from the bed before turning around and coming face to face with the same man as the evening before. He was only wearing a white shirt and a black underwear, he was probably in the bathroom when she entered that’s why she didn’t noticed someone was there.

“Vous ?” - “You?”

It was the mysterious stranger she had bump the night before. The same red hair, the same blue-grey eyes and that embarrassed smile so touching.

“Are you following me?” He asked both embarrassed and amused at the same time.

“Pardon ? Non !” - “Sorry?No!”

She tried to add something but nothing came out of her mouth and she shook her confused head.  

“I’m sorry I didn’t know this room was occupied.” She explained herself with a rather wobbly accent, which he found quite charming and which slightly stretched his smile.

“Don’t worry, it’s fine.”

Like the day before, they looked at each other in the whites of their eyes without saying anything, and then finally regaining the use of her limbs and speech, she walked towards the door, still stammering.

“I’m Dick.”

Even him was surprised of the words which came out of his mouth, what’s the point of telling her? He asked for himself. Also surprised of his words she turned towards him and it took her a moment before reacting.

“Jeanne.” She finally said calmly before rushing out, feeling her cheeks usually pale white turning into crimson red, so she hurried out before he noticed and that she looked ridiculous, at least more than she already did.

Dick looked at her in amusement and his gaze remained for a few seconds riveted on the door that had just closed.  

“Jeanne.” He says soflty to himself, a smile on the corner of his lips.  

 ____________________________________________

It's up to you! Do you think it's better to stop there? 🤔 Or how do you see a potential sequel? 😊

Throw me your ideas, they are the ones that will determine the rest of the story! Or not, it's up to you!🤷🏼‍♀️ It's your story!😉

[stealingpotatoes]

First Meeting

Ao3 link

Summary: Alexi Mayhew meets Empress Emily Kaldwin for the first time. But it doesn’t really happen how she thought it would.

(nb: Going off extra lore stuff, Alexi and Emily were close good friends when they were kids, so I thought I’d write a little thing on smol Emily & Alexi meeting cause ya know… why not? Also realised I never posted this to tumblr so... here it is now!)

---

Alexi hated getting dressed up. Back in Potterstead, she almost never had to get all dressed up formally, but she’d barely lived in Dunwall more than two months, and it already felt like she’d been to more formal things here than she had in her whole life before moving here. And in Dunwall Tower -- because that meant they were at the Empress’ court, apparently -- Alexi had to be even more formal. Her almost-floor-length green dress was too stiff and her mother had done her hair up with too many pins. Alexi hated it. 

And they were at a boring meeting or talk or something. But the Empress wasn’t even there, because they were actually seeing her this evening, so really Alexi didn’t even need to look ‘nice’ until then. She didn’t even know what they were doing in Dunwall Tower, really. Her parents owned shops; they weren’t nobles.  

But one thing Alexi did know was that she was unbelievably bored just standing there. So she had slipped out of the room, taken her hair down, and began wandering about the Tower. None of the guards seemed to pay her much mind, so she guessed that she was allowed to. She eventually wound up in a hallway with a bunch of paintings along the walls. Some of them had various Emperors and Empresses, some of them were just random places or maybe events. Alexi found herself particularly drawn to a large painting of an Emperor in a formal-ish military outfit, holding a sword in the air in a very commanding way while on a rearing horse, with parts of a battle going on in the background. Alexi began imagining herself as this great general-Emperor. 

Alexi was so caught up in the painting that she didn’t notice the sound of someone running down the hall until it was too late. The second she turned around to see what was happening or who it was, she was met by the full impact of someone running into her. Alexi painfully fell straight on her butt.

After a second, she opened her eyes to see a young girl with short-ish black hair, probably about eleven or twelve- Alexi’s age, quickly pushing herself up from the floor. 

“Oh! I’m so sorry-- I didn’t see you,” The girl, now standing, extended a hand to Alexi.

Alexi took her girl’s hand, and she helped pull Alexi to her feet.

“It’s nothing, don’t worry.” Alexi said, moving her braided hair behind her back and dusting herself off, “Though, maybe look where you’re going next time?”

“...I had to check if I was being followed!” The girl exclaimed, “But- yes, sorry, I’ll… do that.” She rubbed her arm sheepishly. 

Now that they’d both stopped moving, Alexi had a better look at the girl in front of her. She was taller than Alexi, a little lanky really, and wearing an expensive-looking black trouser suit with fine silver embroidery and white trimmings. Her hair had been messed up, probably from the speeding down the halls and the running-right-into-Alexi. 

“Who might be following you?” Alexi asked. 

The girl tilted her head to the side, “Um- a few people...” she paused and looked Alexi up and down, “I don’t think I’ve seen you here before?” 

“This is my first time in the Tower” Alexi fiddled with the fabric of her skirts a little, “I’m here with my parents. We’re supposed to be meeting the Empress later today or something.”

The girl looked at Alexi thoughtfully before smiling like she knew something Alexi didn’t, “Why aren’t you with them?”

“I was with them, at some really boring meeting-talk-thing. But it was um-- really boring. So…” Alexi shrugged, “I thought I’d explore.” 

The girl laughed a little, “There’s no shortage of boring meetings in Dunwall Tower.” 

“Do you have to go to those things with your parents too?”

The girl did that smile again, “Something like that…”

Alexi ignored how vague the girl was being, “Um- what were you running from?”

“My lessons.” 

“Oh- That explains why you were running so fast.” Alexi said, smiling. Did people have lessons in the Tower? 

The girl giggled. “What’s your name?” 

“Alexi Mayhew.” Alexi said proudly, “What’s yours?”

“Emily Kaldwin.”

It took a second for the penny to drop. Alexi knew that Empress Emily was her age, had black hair, and she had a rough idea of what the Empress looked like from newspapers and various images. Maybe she just wasn’t actually expecting a child, someone like her -- maybe she’d imagined someone more like the paintings around her, all regal and not running down hallways at great speeds. But Alexi really should’ve noticed it sooner. 

This realisation must have shown on her face, because Emily giggled a little. 

Alexi’s brow furrowed, “Um- Do I have to call you Your Majesty? Or bow…?”

Emily seemed to think about it for a second, “Technically yes, but you can call me Emily.”

“ Phew. Well uh-” Alexi put her hand out, quickly recovering- “it’s nice to meet you, Emily.”

Emily looked at Alexi’s hand, slightly confused, for a moment, before suddenly shaking it, “It’s nice to meet you too, Alexi.”

Neither of them said anything for a few moments, and Alexi found herself looking at the painting that they were both standing under again. 

Emily glanced up at the painting too, and then at a clock near them, “Do you want to see some actual fighting?” 

Alexi nodded enthusiastically. 

Emily gestured for Alexi to follow, and led her along two halls, until they reached a window seat. Emily climbed into the alcove on her knees, before looking back and gesturing for Alexi to come up, “Come on!”

Alexi pushed herself onto the window seat to kneel next to Emily, and looked out the window. Alexi put her hands to the window sill. Below them, the Dunwall Tower guards were sparring with each other in the training yard. There were maybe 20 guards, plus a captain walking in the space between the sparring matches, yelling things Alexi couldn’t hear. They were all duelling with swords- properly fighting

“ Cool, ” Alexi grinned.

“I know,” Emily said, still staring out the window. 

The guards continued to duel below. They were all good duellists, which made sense, seeing as only the best of the City Watch guarded Dunwall Tower. It was impressive to watch all of them fight. 

“I want to be able to fight like that,” Alexi said, not taking her eyes off the

“Me too,” Emily said, a little quieter than before. 

“When I’m old enough, I’m going to join the City Watch.” Alexi turned to Emily.

Emily faced Alexi, “Maybe I’ll see you training out here soon.”

“Yeah! And you- when you learn to sword fight too.”

Emily chuckled a little, “I don’t think the City Watch will let me spar with them.”

“Why not? It’s technically your training grounds, right?” Alexi twisted her hand on the sill in Emily’s direction. 

Emily tilted her head and smirked, “I suppose so.” 

Alexi turned back to the window and stared at the guards, still duelling. But she saw Emily looking at her in her peripheral vision and turned her head to face her. “What is it?” she asked, suddenly feeling a little self-conscious. 

Emily half-shrugged, “Everyone’s usually so weird around me. But you’re… not. You’re different.”

“Is that a bad thing?” Alexi asked, cautiously. She was pretty sure that she was ignoring every single piece of ‘etiquette’ she was meant to know, but etiquette was dumb, so she didn’t care. 

“Oh- no! Definitely not. No, it’s a good thing.” Emily smiled reassuringly.

Alexi smiled back, “So what’s weird? Do they ”

Emily returned to looking out the window and Alexi did the same. “No, people just act like I’m made of glass or-- Woah , did you see that?!” Emily asked.

“See what?” Alexi looked between the guards. 

Emily pointed to a guard on the floor, “His opponent just dodged him perfectly and did this uh- leg swipe, and floored him! It was awesome!”

“Maybe he’ll do it again--”

“Emily?” A man’s rough voice came from the end of the hall, interrupting Alexi.   

Emily glanced behind her before looking back to Alexi, annoyed, and huffing, “Callista got Corvo to find me.”

“As in Corvo Attano?” Alexi asked, eyes widening.

Emily nodded. 

Alexi knew she’d get to see Corvo Attano today, because the Royal Protector was almost always with the Empress. And if Alexi was being honest, she’d been way more excited to see him than she had been to see the Empress. Because- well, Corvo Attano was a legend! Alexi had heard that he could fight ten armed men at once, with just his bare hands . And that he was the best swordsman and hand-to-hand combatant in all the Isles. And that last year, he’d escaped Coldridge Prison (Coldridge! Nobody escaped Coldridge!), saved Empress Emily twice, taken down the evil Lord Regent (and those other bad people who ruled for like 2 days afterwards) and cleared his name, almost entirely by himself! Earlier, Alexi had almost been hoping that some assassins or something would show up when she was meeting the Empress, just so she’d get to see him in action. And so everything would be less boring. 

Emily got down from the seat and Alexi followed suit. 

As they got down, a man in a long dark blue coat with gold-yellow trimmings walked around the corner. “Emily-” he said, seeing them and picking up his pace a little. He stopped when he was about a step or two away from them. 

Alexi looked up at the man in front of her. She could definitely believe that he’d done all she’d heard. He was so tall as well. There was a sword at his belt- well, a sword hilt. It didn’t have a blade, which was weird. 

Alexi stood up a little straighter. 

“Corvo, this is Alexi Mayhew. Alexi, this is Corvo.” Emily said, gesturing between Alexi and Corvo. 

Corvo gave Alexi a nod and a smile in place of a greeting. Alexi copied him and smiled and nodded back, hoping she didn’t look too in awe. 

Corvo turned to Emily, “You’re meant to be in lessons, Your Majesty.”  

Emily huffed and dropped her shoulders, “I know, I’m coming.”

“Miss Mayhew, do you need someone to escort you back to your parents?” Corvo asked, looking at Alexi again.

Could he read her mind?! Or… was it just his job to know everything that happened in the tower…? Probably the second one. “I um- yes please.” Alexi said, fiddling with her dress again. 

Corvo gave her another single nod, before turning away slightly and making eye contact with Emily. 

Emily moved next to Corvo, “It was nice talking to you, Alexi.”

“You too!” Alexi smiled.

With that, Emily and Corvo turned and began walking away. Emily smiled and waved over her shoulder as they walked, “See you later!”

Alexi waved back. 

-

“You took longer than usual,” Emily said once she and Corvo rounded the corner. 

“You two sounded like you were having a nice talk. I didn’t want to interrupt.”

“Then why did you?” Emily looked up at her father. 

“Because you’re supposed to be in lessons, and you can’t keep Callista waiting forever,” Corvo said, glancing down at Emily. 

Emily let out a little ‘hmph’ and continued walking, “Can I see Alexi again? I liked her.”

“You’re meeting the Mayhews later today.” 

Emily tilted her head, “Alexi said something like that.” She was glad that at least Corvo remembered her schedule and knew what was happening. Emily knew she didn’t most of the time. 

Emily and Corvo walked on for a bit before Emily spoke again, “You know, really I was performing my Imperial duties by showing Alexi around.”

“Oh? Well, right now, you need to perform your Imperial duty to go to your lessons.” 

“Not if I run off again,” Emily said with a sly grin. 

Corvo put a hand on Emily’s shoulder -- gentle, but firm enough to stop her from moving off too fast -- and looked down at her with an amused expression “ Lessons. ”

Emily sighed, “Fine.” 

[jus-tea]

Going to explain a little about the Miss Rhona lyrics, what inspired different aspects etc, as I’ve seen a lot of people speculating over it, and coming up with their own ideas (which I fully support!) but for those who are curious...

1st Stanza

“Daddy’s at the food store” So, when this was written, myself, my partner, and seemingly everyone was spending so much time going from supermarket to supermarket trying to find the basics, the essentials. Pasta, flour, sugar etc were sold out seemingly everywhere. The weekend just before this was written he’d lined up for half an hour before Costco opened to ensure he acquired some toilet paper- which seemed impossible to get ANYWHERE. I had colleagues who sent their adult children to shops everyday (they couldn’t cause they were at work) to try to find toilet paper somewhere. We ran out at work, and ended up with tissues. People, generally, were spending so much more time trying to find essentials at supermarkets. It’s not nearly as bad now, but just over a month ago when I wrote this it felt like a big issue. Also, “food store”?! NO ONE HAS CALLED ME OUT ON THIS which I find so weird because no one actually says, “food store”?! What a weird expression! So why did I use it? Well! Initially I thought “cost-co” but didn’t use it because I wanted the rhyme to appeal more universally. And we only got a Costco in my city a few years ago and I know plenty of places in the world don’t have one so... I thought maybe supermarket? But thought maybe they didn’t call them that in other countries- market? Market sounded so strange as it’s really only fresh fruit and veggies we get in our local markets here (in my part of the world) and didnt fit with the image I was trying to create and besides all our markets were cancelled as they were too crowded.. so “food store” was initially just a place-hold. I still can’t believe literally no one has said “hey wtf is up with “food store? No one says that” but there you go. It’s in literally every version ive seen as that so... that’s what it is now. So, that line about the food store and collated with the next line, “mummy’s our of town- she’s working at the hospital” was based on news articles I’d read about doctors having to isolate themselves from their families by sleeping either at hospital or in their garage. People who couldn’t see their kids for ages, it was really sad! And then combining these lines, it’s about how these little kids for the first time really are sometimes being left home alone because their parents have stuff they *have* to do; get food or work, and lots of kids these days don’t get left home alone anymore, it was common when I was little but not for a long time! But seemingly suddenly with this pandemic it’s happening again. And I hadn’t seen that talked about but I was seeing glimpses of it and it, felt weird? I guess? So that made for the perfect beginning to a covid19 nursery rhyme- a kid getting left home alone a lot and not being really sure how to respond to that.

So, with the hide away lines, there’s 3 stanzas and in each miss Rhona gets closer. The first one is she’s “come to town”. Now I remember that feeling on that day learning that the first coronavirus case had occurred in my city. Up until then there was a bit of a sense of dread, like you knew it was everywhere else, then in the news it got closer and closer, with cases in small country towns nearby. But when it got to my city it was suddenly so real. And that’s where the story starts because Miss Rhona was HERE. She arrived in the kid’s town. The line, “she’s come to take us down” is another way of saying “she’s going to get you” and also links to the final line which reveals her success “she took us down/she’s brought us down”.

2nd stanza

So, she goes from being in town to being “at the doorstep” which represents getting closer- being in those people the child might interact with everyday- and imagined more literally in the postal worker delivering a package (actually ON the doorstep) or food delivery or anyone who they’d still have close contact with. But “I’ll keep 6 feet away” is a self reassurance that if they just do the right thing and keep their distance everything will be ok. But then the conflict! Grandma needs toilet paper, EVERYONE needs toilet paper and no one can get it anywhere! No doubt the dad is our trying to find some more while he’s at the “food store”. And I was thinking... my children’s grandmother lives in a different state to us but if we were in the same one you can bet your life id be out dropping essentials at her doorstep whenever I could- tp included. (Although, tbh the tp issue didn’t seem as bad in her state from what she told me) so in this bit I guess I imagined myself as the child because that would be something important to me, to make sure my elders had their essentials. Idk I tried to help where I could, got baby wipes when I found it for a friend with a newborn, stuff like that. So the conflict is the child’s sense of responsibility ensuring their grandmother has what she needs, while also knowing that the coronavirus, Miss Rhona, could reside in anyone they meet along the way. Kind of like a little red riding hood situation linking the dangers of strangers. So they open the door due to this sense of responsibility and, oh no, Miss Rhona was at the doorstep, remember? Now the child has it too; “Miss Rhona’s come to stay” IN THE CHILD. This line was to use the imagery of Miss Rhona coming to stay with the child at their house, like an aunt might come to visit for the weekend, but symbolises the virus coming to live within the child, they’ve caught it now, which is why they definitely, “can’t come out to play”.

Stanza 3

“But grandma needs the paper” that’s where the conflict arises again- the child’s sense of responsibility, maybe guilt even? Overshadowing their understanding of just how serious the virus would be should their grandmother catch it. They’re just a kid remember? They don’t understand. So they take her some anyway, everyone needs toilet paper! Also, I know that phrasing it as such misleads the listener to think about a newspaper. Thats how we talk, “I’ll get the paper!” My dad says ... often. But, 2 things, it rolls off the tongue easier than “grandma needs toilet paper” which would’ve messed up the rhythm anyway, and also, for anyone who’s lived it you would automatically know about the “great toilet paper shortage of 2020” 😅 there were so many memes about it and it was funny that everyone was obsessed with it but if you were one of those people who genuinely really couldn’t find any- and there were lots!- then it kind of sucked. And that’s a memory that’ll stick with you 🙈

So. The note. “And here’s a note from Rhona she wanted me to say” imagine the child at the grandmas doorstep, she’s bringing her tp (that’s nice) but the child is infected, and hands grandma a note. I imagined like a little filed up piece of paper in their back pocket they take out and hand over, to pass on the message from their aunt living in their house. As kids would do- what teacher hasn’t given their student a note and said “go tell mr x such and such” and the note is a reminder of what to say. But the note they hand over is also a metaphor. It symbolises contact between the grandmother and grandchild, and as grandma took it, she caught the virus too. And the note reads,

“Hide away, hide away, keep 6 feet away”

Which is that line repeated all the way through the rhyme. In the end, it’s what Miss Rhona was saying all along. Hide away children...

And the final line is a throwback to near the beginning, “she took us down” because earlier remember she came to “take us down” but now it’s happened and we’re in past tense. She did it. She took down the grandma, and possibly the child too, although I left that as ambiguous. To be taken down here is the symbol for death, of course. It’s pretty grim. But that was the point i suppose.

And that’s where it ends. Anything after that, while I’ve seen some adaptations made which sound really cool, doesn’t really make sense with the story, because they died in that moment. And continuing on after that seems a bit overkill, because I gues, perhaps symbolically at least, who would be able to continue singing the rhyme once they had already died?

But having said that, it’s still nice to see people get exited about it and want to contribute more lyrics too. Making up stories, songs, games, art in general, it’s a way we’ve found to cope i think? Like dark and morbid stories are a part of our culture because we respond to them. Lessons, feelings, etc. people far more articulate than I have explained before...

So. That’s Miss Rhona. This explanation was written really roughly and I apologise for that, but you get the gist. I strongly recommend for anyone who hasn’t already to check out the #miss Rhona recordings hashtag on my blog, because some of these melodies people have put to it are really beyond words. Dreamy, haunting. Peaceful. Childlike. Much more than the original chant-like skipping rhyme I originally envisaged.

Thanks for reading this far... please be safe and look after your grandmothers ❤️

[rohad93]

Authority Online - Ch 15

“I’ve been thinking…” Celeste finally started as she picked at the remains of the food on her plate, prompting her sister to look up at her. 

It was Saturday afternoon and they were sitting in the middle of a crowded restaurant having lunch. This was the first time the sisters had had a quiet moment alone together in weeks. 

Between work, their partners, and in Rose’s case, son, there hadn’t been a single quiet moment in weeks for the sisters to get together and while it took a few pulled strings they had made it happen finally.

Celeste had been rather insistent that they have lunch today and Rose had been waiting for her to finally speak up about whatever it was that was obviously weighing on her older sister’s mind. 

“Finally,” Rose threw up a hand. “I’ve been waiting for you to tell me whatever it is you’ve been so twitchy about ever since we got here.”

“Am I that transparent?” she asked, setting down her fork and focussing her attention on her companion.

“I just know you.” Rose gave a shrug. “So, what is it?” she asked, leaning forward with a curious tilt of her head. 

“It’s about Jaune and I…,” she started after taking a deep breath.

“Oh no, are you breaking up?” The teacher frowned, sitting up straight in her chair and cutting off anything else the baker might have been about to say.  

“What? No.” Celeste waved a hand. “We’re not breaking up,” she assured. 

“Don’t scare me like that,” Rose huffed, slumping back in her seat. “So, what then?” 

‘If you’d let me finish…” Celeste huffed, rolling her eyes and ignoring her sister’s ‘go on then’ motion of her hand. “Jaune and I have been together over a year now and living together for six months and I think…, no, I’m sure, that I want to take our relationship further…,” she finished, twisting her fingers into the cloth napkin sitting in her lap. 

Rose narrowed her eyes, looking hard at the older woman.

“Like… anal?” she blinked, cocking her head and prompting her sister to jerk and turn red as a fire hydrant.

“NO!” She nearly yelled but her voice quickly lowered to a hush as she looked around at the crowded tables, people giving her annoyed side-eyes.  

“Not… that,” she hissed through clenched teeth and leaning forward to glare at her sister though the effect was lost to the burning red skin that stretched all the way from her neck to the roots of her hair. 

“Okay, okay, relax.” Rose chuckled, holding up her hands as if to contain Celeste’s impending explosion.   

“You live together, what’s le…” She stopped, eyes blowing wide as she stared back at Celeste who looked more nervous than before as the red faded from her face. “Oh my god!” She suddenly screeched, drawing the gaze of everyone in the restaurant and the color returned to Celeste’s face two fold.

“Rose!” She hissed.

“Are you going to ask Jaune to marry you!?” She ignored the warning call of her name and slapped her hands against her cheeks, though it did nothing to temper the manic grin plastered across her face. 

“Yes… I want to ask her... I realize it’s a big step but I’ve never been more sure about someone before.” She couldn’t help but smile to herself as she thought about the surly lawyer. She winced, broken from her thoughts by the sound of Rose squealing again.

“I’m so excited for you!” She bounced excitedly in her seat. “I love weddings.” Rose grinned.

“I haven’t even asked her yet,” Celeste smirked at her sister’s boundless enthusiasm. 

“Maybe, but come on, it’s Jaune. Anyone with eyes can see how head over heels in love with you she is.” Rose huffed, resting her arms on the table and rolling her eyes at the ridiculousness of the idea that the blonde would say no to Celeste’s proposal and she could tell that her sister already knew this by the ever so slight tilt of her lips. 

“Be that as it may, nothing is set in stone yet. Speaking of though, I was hoping you would come with me this afternoon to look at a few rings?”

“Yes!” Rose was agreeing before Celeste could even properly finish the question. 

They quickly paid for their meals before Rose was practically pulling her down the street to the nearest jewelry shop she knew of.

"So, is there anything, in particular, you're looking for?" Rose asked over her shoulder as she peered into the glass cases at the bright, sparkling array of metals and gemstones.

"I'm not really sure… other than her collection of wristwatches and the pin her father gave her, Jaune doesn't really wear much jewelry." Celeste pursed her lips and she peered into the displays. There was no shortage of options to be sure, it was a little overwhelming, to be honest. All different kinds of metals and stone in all different shapes, sizes and colors. 

"Ooh…what about this one?" Rose pressed a finger to the glass, despite the clear sign that asked that patrons not do that.

"Which one?" Celeste peered over her sister's curly head of hair. 

"That one on the far left, second row." She jabbed at the glass for emphasis, drawing the eye to a large gaudy ring with far too busy a pattern of tiny gemstones on a yellow gold band. 

She couldn't for the life of her see Jaune wearing the ring.

"Rose… it's ugly…," she finally said before moving down the row of glass and peering into each one briefly and ignoring her sister disgruntled noises.

“I like it,” she grumbled under her breath and followed the elder down the rows. Celeste just rolled her eyes at the teacher’s pouting. 

“Jaune has a very simple and elegant style.” She said as she peered at the jewelry in front of her. Rose snorted.

“She’d accept if you proposed with the tab off a coke can.” 

“She might very well accept if I asked her with it but she wouldn’t like it, and that’s what matters.” Celeste insisted as they continued to look through the store's offerings.    

“What do you think of this one?” Celeste asked, gesturing to a ring that Rose would definitely say fit the ‘simple’ aspect of Jaune’s requirements. It was a plain gold band with three, round center stones. 

“I think I’m glad I’m here to talk you out of it,” she deadpanned. Celeste made a sour face.

“I’m starting to regret asking you to come along at all,” She sniffed, glaring. 

“Oh yea…?” Rose started, but was cut off before she could finish the thought. 

“Ladies, ladies, I’m sure we can find something that will bring you both a lifetime of happiness.” a sales associate quickly stepped in to interrupt their bickering.

“She’s just so difficult sometimes,” Rose sighed loudly with a dramatic flip of her head before Celeste could open her mouth to correct the man. She glared at Rose before turning back to the man.

“We are not a couple…” She informed him. 

“You’re no fun.” Rose folded her arms and huffed under her breath. Celeste ignored her, trying her hardest not to roll her eyes. 

“My apologies, ladies. Can I help you find something?” He asked. 

“Yes, I’m looking for an engagement ring for my girlfriend. Simple and elegant.” 

“Boring” Rose coughed under her breath and Celeste inhaled deeply but didn’t turn around to look at Rose.

The man hummed and walked over to a case they hadn’t gotten to yet.

“I think these might be closer to what you’re looking for.” He gestured to the pieces inside the glass. 

There were a number of bracelets and necklaces arranged on racks, but sitting on the bottom-most shelf was a row of rings much closer to what Celeste had envisioned. 

They were all beautiful in a simple and clean way but one stuck out to her immediately. 

“Can I see this one?” She tapped lightly on the glass and he seemed to know which one she meant as he unlocked the case and pulled out the ring in question. Rose peaked over her shoulder.

“Oh!”

It was a simple white-gold band with a bright yellow, radiant cut, solitaire diamond sitting prominently atop it. 

“This piece is three-fourths a carat with a vivid yellow solitaire…” He rattled off a few other numbers about cut and clarity but Celeste wasn’t really listening anymore. She could perfectly imagine Jaune wearing this ring.

The lawyer’s favorite color was yellow after all.  

 “It’s perfect,” she mumbled, more to herself than anything, though Rose seemed to hear the quiet proclamation.

“It’s pretty,” she agreed.

Celeste flipped over the tiny tag attached and pursed her lips.

“Yikes…” Rose guffawed, also getting a look at the numbers.

“it... is a bit more than I wanted to spend..but…” she hummed, prompting Rose’s head to whip toward her.

“A bit?” she questioned. “Are we looking at the same numbers?” she asked, even as she looked at Celeste’s face and knew that she wasn’t going to be swayed from this ring. “Do you do payment plans?” She asked the smiling man behind the display.

~ ~ ~ 

Celeste hummed happily to herself as she walked into the house later that evening with her purchase tucked away safely in her bag. She’d need to find a good place to hide it for the time being. 

She’d been thinking about how and when would be a good time to ask Jaune ever since she and Rose had left the store.

Her sister had been full of grand and romantic suggestions and as much as she enjoyed those ideas, she knew Jaune and knew how easily embarrassed and flustered she was by public displays of affection, so as amusing as the idea of putting it on a billboard was, the lawyer would have a stroke. 

No, something simple and private. She didn’t fancy the idea of making a big to do out of it either, much as she enjoyed the idea of such grand gestures. 

She would have to think about it, it would take some planning to get the two of their schedules cleared at the same time, and Jaune had a tendency to work too much at home as well. Unless she was in the middle of an important case she sometimes hid the blonde’s laptop after seven in the evening and would set it back out when she got up at three. 

Speaking of…

The goldenrod Mercedes had been in the driveway and the living room lights were on but the room was empty, meaning Jaune was probably in her office. She moved quietly down the dark hall toward the door in question that was sitting ajar, letting pale light spill out into the hall. 

She peeked through the crack. The main light was turned off but the lamp on her desk was turned on, casting a dim light in the room, allowing her to see the blonde hunched over her laptop, fingers flying across the keys at a rapid pace and a frown maring her lover’s face, not that there was anything so unusual about that. Anytime Jaune was working on her computer on having a business call she was usually frowning, if not outright scowling.  

One thing that was out of place was the soft music that filtered through the room from the laptop. 

Musical soundtracks. 

Jaune, much to her surprise, and everyone else's as well, was a theatre buff of incredible proportions and her near entire music collection consisted of various original musical soundtracks

She was so engrossed in her work that she didn’t notice Celeste slip in through the door or slink quietly around the room till she was standing behind the hunched over form of the blonde. She leaned down till her lips were just beside Jaune’s ear.

“Busy?” she breathed.

“God!” Jaune yelped, nearly coming out of the chair while Celeste burst into laughter. “Where did you come from?” she gasped, a hand pressed to her chest as she swiveled around to face the giggling baker.

“I just got back from having lunch with my sister.” She said as she leaned down to kiss the startled lawyers cheek. 

“That was a very long lunch,” Jaune hummed as she glanced at the clock and saw the time, hell, it was nearly dinner time.

“She insisted on dragging me around to shop with her for a while.” Celeste lied easily, having planned her excuses well in advance for the extra long outing. 

Jaune hummed in acknowledgment, that sounded like Rose. 

“What are you working on?” Celeste peered at the open files on the laptop but all the legal jargon just blurred together in her eyes. 

Jaune grunted as she swiveled back around to the desk.

“I’m just going over this deposition for court next friday.” She grumbled as she stated scrolling through the document again and immediately her shoulders were bunched back up around her ears.

Celeste clicked her tongue in obvious disapproval. It was Sunday and as much as Jaune would protest this could wait till tomorrow morning, that was what her office hours were for. 

Positioning herself directly behind the chair, she dug her fingers into the blondes' tensed up shoulders and kneaded the tight muscles. Jaune made a sound in her throat that made the baker smirk.

“Can this not wait until tomorrow, it’s Sunday.” she reminded, working on a particularly tough knot in the left side of the blonde’s neck. 

“I just want to give it a cursory look and make some notes about things I’ll need to look at more in depth later…” she said, but her rapid scrolling of the document had slowed.

“I know, but I know you’ve probably been sitting here for hours already…” Celeste said knowingly, digging her thumbs a little harder into the taut, corded muscle of Jaune’s shoulders, eliciting a low gutteral noise from her.

“You need a break.” She said as she slowly, but surely got those bunched up shoulders to lower back down. Her scrolling stalled as she leaned back toward the bakers expert, kneading hands, eyes sliding closed and Celeste smiled victoriously to herself.

If she’d learned anything over the last year, it was that Jaune worked entirely too hard. She’d thought herself to be a bit of a micromanager but now realized that in comparison to her girlfriend she was just fine at doling out tasks for others. 

“Feel better?” She asked after a few minutes. The wordless, throaty noise Jaune made was answer enough. “Take a break now?” 

“Alright, alright…” Jaune breathed as she leaned forward, pulling out of Celeste’s grip to stand, stretching briefly as she stepped around the chair and snatched Celeste up in her arms, making her yelp in surprise but it quickly turned into quiet laughter as she let the blonde pull her in close and set her chin on top of her head. 

“Happy now?” She asked, squeezing the baker closer for good measure. 

“Yes,” Celeste mumbled, eyes closed and tucking her face further against the lawyer’s neck, she could smell the faint scent of the citrus soap she liked to use on her skin.

They stayed there, quietly swaying to the low playing music still filtering out of the computer into the room. 

Seering affection for the woman wrapped around her filled Celeste’s chest with a burning heat that made her squeeze harder. 

Jaune huffed, the low, amused way she often did and all Celeste could suddenly think about was the ring, hidden in her bag on the kitchen counter. 

“I love you.” Jaune mumbled, moving to lay a kiss against platinum locks

“Marry me.” She suddenly blurted out and she felt Jaune go still in her arms.

“What?” She pulled back to stare down at her with wide amber eyes, like she couldn't have heard what she thought she had. 

Celeste’s mouth opened to say something, but words refused to leave her lips as she looked up at Jaune, staring back at her with a shocked look that surely mirrored her own. 

“What did you just say?” Jaune asked, still blinking down at her owlishly. 

“I… wait... wait here!” She managed to shake herself out of her stupor as she pulled herself out of Jaune’s grip and took a step back toward the door.

“Celeste...” Jaune stepped forward, brows furrowed worriedly between her eyes, but Celeste held up her hands, stopping her advance.

“Please, just… stay here,” she pleaded.

Jaune frowned but took a step back. 

Celeste dashed down the hall and into the kitchen, frantically digging though her bag till her fingers wrapped around the box she was looking for and quickly ran back to Jaune’s office.

The blonde was standing just where she had left her, looking just as confused as ever, she looked up as Celeste came back in, box clutched tightly in her hands and dark blonde brows shot up into her hair. 

Celeste stopped in front of her and took a deep breath, suddenly so much more nervous now that Jaune was looking at her with those wide amber eyes. 

“I said…,” she started, running her tongue over suddenly dry lips as she popped open the box. “Marry me” 

Jaune blinked, wide eyed and speechless at the ring glinting back at her in the low light of the office. Her eyes drew back up to Celeste as she spoke. 

“I know this is sudden… and I didn’t mean for it to happen this way… but I’ve never been as sure of something as I am of this, of us. Jaune, will you marry me?” 

~ ~ ~

Rose was standing in the kitchen cooking dinner when her phone buzzed in her pocket. She pulled out the device to see a text from her sister.

She flicked it open and read the brief message typed in all caps before she dropped the spatula she’d been holding and screeched.

A few seconds later Greg bolted into the kitchen.

“What, what’s wrong!?” He asked, looking around frantically for the cause of his wife’s scream just before she threw herself into his arms.

“She said YES!” the teacher squealed loudly.

[jimijoong]

Heaven Sent (pjm)

pairing— ghost!jimin x reader

word count— 1.1k (a shortie)

genre— supernatural (not the spooky kind), romance, & angst 

warnings— sadness, past death mention, light emotional trauma, catharsis

summary— being haunted seemed pretty farfetched, who in their right mind would believe in ghosts anyways? 

 Had you told the you of a few months past, “You’re being haunted”... You would have laughed. That was just fairy tales and parents spooking children into eating their broccoli.

But slowly, the evidence was starting to stack up. Novels moving from your bookcase to your bed, opened on a seemingly random page. A glass tipped on its side, making a little puddle below. Little creaks and groans in the night. Your doors opening on their own all of sudden,creaking horribly. Your utensils disappearing for a week and suddenly appearing again in the most random of places. If only you had a roommate to blame these happenings on.

A google search told you ghosts usually haunted the place they died; alternatively they liked graveyards a lot. They could appear as full bodied apparitions or look a little more transparent and proper ghostly. A lot of them were vaguely Victorian, it seemed. They could communicate through tv or some device, the “spirit box”. But how a ghost from 18-whatever could be savvy with technology didn’t make sense to you.  But there was no shortage of conspiratorial articles and footage. Yeah, the internet probably wasn’t your best bet for a reliable source. If one such source even existed. The local library didn’t come up with anything more credible. Most of what you found were children’s ghost story collections. The Goosebumps and Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark.

Had you told the you of a few months past, “You’re friends with a ghost”... You would have laughed. That was a joke- not even a good one.

But Jimin didn’t take long to make his presence wholly known to you. He would walk through your walls, and say hi with a surprisingly sweet smile for a dead person. He could pop in and out of existence at will. One moment you were browsing your phone the next you had a man looking over your shoulder with big curious eyes. You wouldn’t admit to anyone you screamed the first few times.

But his appearances were soon normalized, and he was just a part of your life. He was there, constant. Now he stuck around you longer, which you could call a proper visit. With more time, you got a good look at him. At first he was hard to make out in a wispy spectral form. You could grasp an eye or a nose for a singular, solitary second but it was quickly washed away in fluid spirals of whites and grays— like paint spreading through water. But every time he appeared it was a little clearer than the last. As if ever time he came forth into the living plane a piece of the puzzle was put into place.

He had dark blue hair reminiscent of a stormy sea. In his lifetime he would have had the most striking coal eyes, which were now paler and devoid of their sparkle. His skin held a gray pallor but looked smooth like marble. He wore a loose and bouncy linen blouse with a delivish “V” neckline. Tall black lace ups and dirty brown trousers. A utility belt was cinching his small waist, showing off his fit figure. He walked with grace and held himself like royalty. It was immediately noticeable in an age of slouches.

“Y/n.” Jimin came to you like usual, on any day.

“Hey Casper.”

He scowled playfully at you. “I had a favor to ask you.”

“Oh yeah?”

“I want to- gosh, there’s no good way to put this- but I want to try touching you.”

Your eyes tore away from the tv and you gaped at him. “Are you being serious? What makes you think it’ll work now?” He didn’t reply and you sighed softly. “C’mere then.”

Holding out your hand for him, you let him come over. His brows scrunched together in concentration as he knelt in front of you, slowly bringing his hand closer to yours. He grasped his fingers around your palm and held you tightly. In that moment, it was as if sparks flew through your system, and you were suddenly overwrought with emotions. Worried. Frenzied. Terrified. Strained. Your chest started to hurt and your throat got choked up. You hadn’t noticed you’d started crying until Jimin asked you what was wrong.

“I don’t know I.. I think when you held my hand,” you took a pause to sniffle and wipe your eyes, “I could feel what you felt, in.. in your last moments.”

Jimin looked down thoughtfully, solemnly.

“I’m sorryJimin, I’m sure it’s not easy for you to accept-”

“No, in a way. It’s comforting. Knowing someone understands.” He said quietly, looking back up at you with his eyes in half moons.

“Guess that makes sense. In a totally sad way.” You forced a smile.

Jimin chuckled sadly, nodding his head and standing back up. “I’m glad it’s you, too.”

“What?”

“I mean… You’ve been so kind to me. Despite me scaring you on accident too many times. But- since my death I’ve been lost. It took me a while to understand what I was. Why am I still here? I kept asking that to myself. What haven’t I found the will let me pass on?”

You frowned, looking up at him to continue.

“I think… I was just missing closure. I was happy in my life, I had everything I wanted. But the accident- it suddenly halted everything and I don’t think my heart understood that. I still felt alive. And my time being your Casper, it has me feeling okay. It’s okay, I’ve had my run and I’m ready to give it up.”

“Jimin, don’t say that.” You bit out, standing up to face him. You wanted to be upset he was saying these things, but there were too many conflicting emotions, none of them could hold the top spot. You didn’t want to see your friend go away. But it was selfish to make him stay when he, more than anyone, deserved to go.

“It’s okay. I’m not afraid of death. They always say you’re going to a better place right?” Jimin held your chin between his cold fingers. It felt so real,watering your eyes more. Your heart was straining to hold in your feelings so bad, it hurt.

Leaning forward, you pressed your lips to his plush ones, closing your eyes. Feeling the years catch on your eyelashes, feeling him move with you into it. It was a magical moment. One so sporadic, one so passionate and melancholic.

His presence slipped away from you, and the room felt ironically warmer. When everything in you said it should feel colder.

Had you told the you of a few months past, “You’d fall in love with a ghost”... You would have laughed.

He was just a memory. One you would treasure dearly, but just that— a memory, as the world moves on.

𝓕𝓲𝓷

a/n— this is something i originally wrote last year but was never content with it until now. From the start I wanted to express a catharsis from death and I hope that came across :”) my cheesy title is meant to represent both jimin coming to the reader and creating a “heaven” for her as well as jimin being sent to his heaven in the end. Is that too sad? haha who knows 

Feedback and Reactions go a long way!

[forcri]

The Andy Bird Diaries

The penniless Englishman who seduced Madonna"

PART ONE Exclusive by Alice Fowler.

The letter was and, heartfelt, and surprisingly vulnerable especially when one considers that the writer is perhaps the most famous woman on the planet.

'I will never get over you,' it said. 'You have touched me in an unfathomable and unexplainable way.   'You say that there can be no love without trust and I couldn't agree more. But you mistrusted me long before I behaved in an untrustworthy fashion.   'All of this just perpetuated more negative and reactive behaviour in both of us. We went to our corners and drew our swords. 'The irony now is that I'm alone completely. Alone with my thoughts and my memories. I have so many fond memories of you in my house and, m fact, they we the happiest memories of my life. It is so very hard to let go of them. 'I wish so many things. I wish that we were together and happy. I wish that we'd had a child wish that you were feeling fulfilled, artistically and creatively you have such a brilliant mind I wish I wish, I wish...' 'Most of all, I wish you happiness and peace in your heart and mind. Please know that you are my last thought before I go to sleep and my first thought when I wake up. 'My love for you is profound and immense. Confusing and mysterious. I long to put my arms around you.'

These were the words that Madonna wrote to the man who was the last great love of her life before her marriage to film maker Guy Ritchie a dreamy impoverished Englishman named Andy Bird. They came towards the end of their tumultuous 18 month affair. For Madonna, Bird followed a long list of high profile partner's including Sean Penn and Warren Beatty, pop singer Prince and John F Kennedy Jr. But as her letter suggests, this anonymous figure stirred deeper feelings in her than any of his celebrity predecessors. Indeed, had fate taken a different twist, perhaps Andy Bind rather than Guy Ritchie might have followed Seen Penn as Madonna's second husband. Certainly, but for a harrowing abortion that we will return to later, he would now be the father of Madonna's child. Few would recognise Andy Bird's name today. Yet his relationship with Madonna spanned a crucial period in her life, ending in bitter arguments around the time she met Ritchie. At the start, they were blissfully happy. The lyrics of Madonna's song Beautiful Stranger To love you is to be part of you, I've paid for you with my tears, And swallowed all my Pride - were inspired by Andy Bird.

Extraordinarily, Madonna, wealthy, ambitious and famously astute lost her heart to this charming drifter who slept on friends' sofas. It was an attraction of opposites the material girl and the man with nothing; the health conscious singer and the chain smoker; the glamorous star and the face in the crowd. But together as we are about to discover, their life ran a rollercoaster course from the heights of emotion to arguments about Bird's sweaty feet (she would make him disinfect them before he came to bed). The affair wrenched this unassuming figure from the provinces born in Birmingham, the son of an accountant and an educational social worker to the centre of a very different and dazzling world. Bird came to know the private Madonna: the woman who would sing snatches of opera as she cooked Pop Tarts for breakfast, whose hopeless driving would cause havoc on the roads, who gave him clothes that ware invariably the wrong size.   To learn the inside story of their relationship - as we will do during this exclusive Mail series, which continues on Monday - is to gain an entirely new insight into the world's most scrutinised woman. She emerges as a far more tender and attractive figure than previous accounts have suggested.

Over the coming days, we will discover the truth about that abortion which left them both drained and distraught; their extraordinary life together with Sting, Stella McCartney and some of showbusiness's greatest names and the very public clash in which Ritchie scuffled with Bird at a London bar. Until now, Bird has never talked publicly about his love for Madonna. He has shrunk instinctively from the public gaze. The reason he has chosen to speak out now, he says, is to put right the many inaccuracies which continue to be written about him. By telling the truth, he hopes, he can draw a line under the past and move on. It is not a task he finds easy. At times, as we talk, he squirms with reluctance. That Madonna should fall for this likeable, irresponsible man far younger than his years, is the greatest surprise of all.

Madonna, after all, is famed as a manipulator, renowned for her need to control - most notably in her affair with Carlos Leon the handsome fitness instructor seemingly picked out to father her child. Lourdes, then cast aside. Perhaps the clearest sign of the depth of Madonna's feelings for Bird is that she found it impossible to discard him in the same way, He was her 'beautiful stranger' and for many months, even after she had met Guy Ritchie, impossible to let go. They met in the summer of 1997 through a mutual friend. Alek Keshishian the moviemaker, who had directed Truth or Dare: In Bed With Madonna, the film of her 1990 world tour. Andy was 32 seven years her junior and living a bohemian life in London's Notting Hill. A former art, student, he was Involved on the outer edges of the film industry, working as a runner for production companies and creating film scenarios of his own. He earned money sporadically, sleeping on friends' sofas for weeks at a time, and wrote a script for an off-beat comedy that he showed to an American film producer he met In London. The American agreed to fly him to LA, using her surplus air miles to try to develop the project.

The week before he was due to leave, Andy went to see Keshishian in Paris to talk about his LA trip. Alek was well known in Hollywood, with no shortage of contacts. 'On a couple of occasions he let slip: Oh I know someone who'd likes you,' Bird recalls. 'He said it was someone I'd really get along with, but he never mentioned who it was. He's the kind of person who knows everyone and likes to show off the fact. 'While I was there, he was on the phone and suddenly said: 'Andrew, say Hello to Madonna, 'Why he did it I still don't know. 'Anyway, I took the phone and said "Hello to Madonna and there was a little giggly voice at the other end. Though he knew Alek was a friend of Madonna, Andy was still unsure whether he really was talking to the singer. It could just have been some strange joke. 'But we chatted for a bit and by the end of the call she seemed like a really nice person, whoever it was I was talking to. The conversation ended with her saying: 'Tell Alek to give you my numbers in L.A'

It seems extraordinary for a star like Madonna to give me her telephone number so freely. Perhaps, says Andy, Alek had already mentioned him to her. He took the number, and. on the Eurostar back to London, decided to find out if they were real, 'I rang up and said: Hi, how are you doing?' and she said 'I'm practising yoga,' or whatever. 'I remember thinking she sounded sweet. She's got a very nice phone voice; quite low and soft. There was a connection between us.' By now there was no doubt he was talking to Madonna herself. 'I suppose other people would have found it really weird to be taking to her, but somehow it didn't feel that strange,' says Bird. I just thought I was speaking to a girl I was getting on really well with. I was speaking to the person, not the icon. 'To start with, we just chatted about Alek. But she also was making an album with the producer William, Orbit, whose work I really admired, and I was very Interested in that.'

Even though Andy hadn't been looking for a relationship, one soon started to develop. 'We spoke several more times. It ended with us talking for a couple of hours a day on the phone before I even got to LA. She was flirty - she's a very flirty person, and I just flirted back, I asked her: 'Do you want me to bring you a present when I come over?' She said; 'Yes some of those waffle biscuits they sell on the Portobello Road.' 'Our conversations, were a first-thing-in-the-morning, last-thing-at-night kind of deal. There was certainly a degree of intimacy at that point. By the end we were actually saying, 'I miss you'" when we hadn't spoken for a few hours. There was a genuine keenness to meet.'

Back in London for the few days before he left for LA, he made no secret of his strange new friendship. My phone would ring in a bar, and it would be Madonna saying 'How are you?" My friends were a bit surprised and it was a big joke for five minutes, but after that they got used to it,' Perhaps his friends were too anxious to seem 'cool' to exhibit mere excitement. Whatever the explanation, Andy admits this lack of interest was one of the reasons why, later, he was unprepared for the frenzy of attention when their relationship became more widely known.

Full of anticipation, he flew to LA and went to stay with his producer friend. The next day, he called Madonna. 'It was three clays before we eventually met up. I was a bit nervous.   I met her at this photographer's studio where they were shooting a cover for Rolling Stone magazine, 1 had to wait outside because I couldn't smoke in the studio. 'I had a Safeway bag with her biscuits from Portobello Road in it. I was wearing a fake-fur coat a mate had given me. At that stage I was into wearing ripped?up clothes and holding them together with tape.   'After 20 minutes I was called in. She war hiding behind a curtain. I think her first words were: "Hello, you!" My first impression was: 'Isn't she tiny?' She had very long, blonde Goldilocks-style hair at the time, and she was dressed all in black. 'We chatted for a bit, and then we got into her car and she drove us to a dinner party she'd been invited to.' Madonna, it appeared, was nervous, too. 'She reversed into a wall as she was turning round, She was screaming: "'Andy, I hit something I think I probably swore - but it was only surface damage' he adds wryly. The dinner was informal. 'Everyone was in the kitchen, sitting on benches. Even so I felt a bit like a fish out of water, because I didn't know a soul, including her. People always ask questions when they don't know you, and I hate being asked questions. 'Somebody asked: 'Where do you live in London?' Madonna piped up 'He's a sofa surfer' because she knew I slept on friends' sofas. We were teasing one another from the outset.' Madonna seemed to be testing his reactions, checking out if he could really handle the prospect of a relationship with her. 'We were driving back after the dinner and she said: 'Shall I drop you at a hotel, because that's what I usually do with my dates, or do you want to come back to mine and call a cab from there?' 'It was all very flippant so I just said: 'I'm bloody going to yours.'She made some coffee and called a cab. I think we kissed.'

By then we were feeling at case with one another. We'd spoken so much already that a lot of barriers had gone down.' Andy also had his first glimpse of her LA home, an old Spanish-style house, filled with antique furniture and paintings. It was, he says, stylish but understated - a place where a guest could feel at home. 'It felt very natural, not at all forced. And she wasn't at all Madonna-ish, in a predatory way. She was warm and affectionate and womanly. She's really very normal: a lovely, traditional, sweet person. 'There was no problem being alone with her. I was more worried about getting back and waking up my producer friend to borrow some U.S. dollars to pay the taxi.'

Next evening, the two went out to dinner alone, at a restaurant near Madonna's studio. This time it was Andy's turn to tease her. I remember saying to her: "Kindness costs nothing," when she got fed up with waiting for a table and snapped ever so slightly at the waiter. 'Funnily enough, she seemed to think I spouting 'from some fount of knowledge. For me it was just a proverb, but perhaps in California it sounded like a deep spiritual insight. 'And after all, it was only our second date. We were hanging on each other's every word.' That evening. Andy mentions in passing, was also one of the few times he paid for dinner. In the excitement of a new relationship, such disparities - her vast wealth, his total lack of it - seemed not to matter. Perhaps, I suggest, it even added to the romance. In hindsight at least. Andy thinks otherwise. 'She's very much a realist: she probably saw it as problematic but chose to ignore it,' he says frankly.

Already the relationship had developed a sexual spark. 'It was brilliant: warm and exciting but quite gentle,' Andy remembers. 'We were holding hands, she was taking my arm, pretty much from the outset. 'It all seemed very natural. I'm a romantic anyway, and she's got a very big heart.' When he arrived in America, Andy had scant knowledge of Madonna's life. 'I knew she had a daughter, but what her name was I didn't know. 'I was aware she'd had relationships in the past, but none of them was an issue. I'd kind of separated Madonna as a pop star from the person I was with. 'You get so wrapped up with the person that their past really doesn't matter. We were in the throes of becoming infatuated, falling in love. 'The magic that goes on inside you when just sitting in a traffic jam can be brilliant, because you get to spend time with that person. That's probably why I was oblivious to the whole fame issue.'

Perhaps, for Madonna, that ability to see her as a normal person was the clue to Andy's appeal. In him - in contrast to so many hangers-on, she may have felt she'd met a man who valued her purely for herself. Whatever the reason, within the space of a week, Andy Bird and Madonna became lovers. Was he nervous, I ask, and Andy looks mortified. 'It wasn't like that. I was having a relationship with a woman called Madonna. I was no more nervous with her than I've been with anyone, before or since. She was an individual I wanted to share a closeness with.' He pauses, looking wistful. 'It was quite a soulful thing.'

So who really is this Englishman who captured Madonna's heart. When I first speak to Andy Bird, by telephone, his voice is deep and laconic: the kind that might, indeed, suggest romance.   When we meet, he is more shy and diffident than I expect. He is tall, with long dark hair swept back from his face, and striking green eyes. But at 36 he displays an unhealthy pallor, honed on a diet of Diet Coke and Marlboro cigarettes. Later, when he shows me a photo of himself with Madonna and Lourdes, I am surprised by how much brighter and healthier he appears, the intervening years you sense, have left their mark on Andy Bird.

His parents, he says, were middle-class mavericks who left the city to start a new life in the Warwickshire countryside when he was two. They kept pigs and lived their version of The Good Life. At school - first a local primary, then a nearby prep school, followed by a comprehensive Andy was an unacademic student, spending most of his time 'messing wound with friends in bands'.   After school, he went to London to study design at Kingston Polytechnic. When he left, he drifted. Good-looking and easy-going, he began modelling, his trip to America was partly financed by a fleeting appearance in a Kentucky Fried Chicken commercial - and made karaoke videos. Affable and relaxed, he made friends easily 'I was meeting lots of different people, going to trendy bars, being put on the right guest lists,' he recalls. By the time he had met Madonna, he had, he says seriously, 500 friends. His social life revolved around fashionable restaurants such as 192 in Notting Hill, his gym on Portobello Green and the Met Bar, where he was friends with the manager. Many of his friends were connected to the media. It should have been obvious that, when he began a relationship with Madonna, there was no chance of it staying secret. Five hundred 'friends' were ready to sell information to the newspapers. To Andy's surprise if no one else's - his old, bohemian existence would blow up in his face.

Back in the autumn of 1997 though, Notting Hill felt far away. Andy was in LA caught up in a burgeoning love affair. Madonna was working in the studio, finishing her best-selling album, Ray Of Light. Andy spent almost every night with her, staying at her house in Los Felix. Quickly Andy's life fell into a routine. In the morning, he and Madonna would wake up early and takes it in turns to make coffee. Then, while she practised yoga for a couple of hours, he would play with Lourdes - Lola, as her mother called her, or 'set up meetings on his still unrealised film project.   In the evenings they would meet for dinner, sometimes at the tiny macrobiotic restaurant 'really good and cheap' and maybe watch a film. He also spent time with the rest of the household: Daisy the maid, Lola's nanny Clara, and Manual the gardener. When I meet Andy at a hotel in England, he swiftly befriends every waiter; in LA, though he was dating a superstar, his behaviour was no different. He rented a Dodge pick-up and often would meet Madonna and follow her in his car. It was a rapid introduction to one of his new girlfriends surprising quirks - her terrible same of direction. 'I'd only been there a short time, but I'd still work out we were going completely the wrong way,' he remembers. 'Following her was a nightmare. You'd be at traffic lights, and out of nowhere she'd edge her way across the lanes and in the lane for turning left, and there was no way you could follow her. It's ironic really somebody with so much direction in their life not to have a clue where they were going.'

While he struggled with her driving, Madonna would try to get him to wear new clothes. 'She's given quite a lot of stuff by designers and fashion companies, and so a black velvet suit showed up that, thankfully I didn't fit into. Then there was a velvet double-breasted coat all Dolce & Gabbana that was too big. 'It was a bit like getting presents from your granny at Christmas things you'd wear for a couple of days just to please them, and then forget about.'

For the most part, though, the couple enjoyed their new found closeness. 'For both of us there was a real sense of familiarity. You know, when you feel you've met somebody before.' says Andy. 'My feelings were strong, and so were hers. There was a powerful physical and emotional attraction between us. 'There was also a sense of vulnerability the way there is when you meet someone new. She would ask my opinion on a lot of things. 'At that time, Lola was less than year old. Madonna was unsure about motherhood what was normal and what wasn't. I helped out as much as I could.' In the beginning, Andy had intended to go to LA for just three weeks. In fact, swept up in the passion of a new relationship, three months passed before he begun to think about coming home. That November, Madonna was visiting Britain to prepare for the release of Ray Of Light. Andy was short of money and starting to feel homesick. They decided to come to London together, as a couple. Andy came over a few days before her 'It was brilliant to be back. I knew I'd missed my friends, but I'd been in such a cocoon I hadn't realised how much,' he says.

Three days later, Madonna's private jet landed at Luton airport. Andy picked her up in a Range Rover with blacked out windows. 'It was great to see her again. She was staying at a house in Tregunter Road, close to The Boltons, one of the most exclusive areas of South Kensington. It was a kind of unspoken assumption that we'd be there together'   For a day or two, no one knew about it. Then Andy took her to a friend's birthday party. Next day, he says ruefully, everything went crazy: their relationship was front-page news.   'It was just awful.' Andy remembers, shrinking into his chair, 'My phone rang incessantly; stories were being written about me. I was being followed. 'One of the red-top tabloids printed a number for anyone who knew mystery man Andy Bird to call. There was even a phone in on Radio 1 for people to say what they thought about Madonna's latest choice of boyfriend.'

For Andy, the media onslaught was a total shock. I knew they'd all be interested in her, but I didn't really think they'd care about who she was dating. 'I know it sound, ridiculous now, and I was obviously being downright stupid but 1 just perceived me as being me and I knew her as somebody else my girlfriend.' Surely Madonna herself must have known what would happen? 'You would have thought so, but I don't think she wanted to acknowledge the fact it might have a detrimental effect on us, or on me. 'Also, after 15 or 20 years in the spotlight it becomes normal, I imagine. It only became an issue after my reaction to it. It made me really withdrawn. 1 felt paranoid. I hadn't realised I would care what anyone wrote about me, but it really did upset me. 'Most hurtfully, says Andy, he was labelled a 'wannabe'. 'The implication was that the only way I was going to get fame and success and some semblance of a career was by hanging about with Madonna. That hurt my pride a lot.' The differences between them, which in America had hardly mattered, were rammed in their faces in Britain. At the same time, Andy was still trying to treat Madonna like any other girlfriend. He took her to friends' flats in West London. 'Most people were fine, but some were horrified at the idea of this superstar coming into their homes. 'No! It's filthy!' they'd say. 'You mustn't come!' 'Others went wild with excitement and you'd think: 'For God's sake, calm down.' Madonna, he says, was charming add polite I think maybe she felt like a novelty, being wheeled about. I think she quite shy in a certain way. But she was my girlfriend and I wanted her to meet my friends.'

Andy was also keen to introduce Madonna to his parents, Horace and Kathleen. 'I wanted to show her another side of me, to show her where I grew up. I didn't envisage spending a lot of time with them; just introducing her and going for a country drive perhaps. 'I rang my parents and said please don't make any more effort than you normally would," and they were fine.'   On a Sunday afternoon, Andy drove Madonna and Lola to the large house his parents built 30 years ago near the village of Clifford Chambers in Warwickshire. With its wide, pitched roof and adjoining garage, it looks like the kind of house stockbrokers retire to. The three of them arrived late. 'It took us ages to get out of London because we were having to sort the baby out and deal with the paparazzi waiting outside our house. 'And, of course, Americans only drive at 50mph, so me doing 90mph down the motorway isn't go down very well at all. 'We didn't actually get there until 4pm, and when my parents opened the door they were dressed in their best clothes. They saw my face and said: 'This isn't for you we're going to a drinks party. We can only stay 20 minutes.' My mum said to Madonna something like: 'Oh, let me give you a kiss because I always kiss Andrews girlfriends.'Then she got the baby photos out: 'Here's Andrew naked in the sink at three months old.Few families you imagine, would have reacted so calmly to a pop icon sitting on their sofa. Andy's, he explains, is different: 'They hardly watch TV and don't read tabloid newspapers. I suppose you could say the whole cult of celebrity has passed them by 'They were at their ease they're very down to earth people They were more worried about being late for their drinks party than anything else.' There was, however, one unexpected hitch. A paparazzi photographer had followed them from London and was waiting outside the house. 'That made it very difficult,' says Andy, still indignant at the intrusion. 'We had to close the curtains so he couldn't see in.' Andy was angry most of all with himself, for bringing his parents into the public eye. All the same, he adds, he eventually took the photographer a cup of tea and some homemade cakes. 'I felt sorry for him' he explains helplessly.

Next day, he was shocked to find the visit was a major news story. I still had no idea that my parents' house would be on the front page of one of the tabloids. When I saw that, I realised the whole visit was a mistake. I didn't want to involve my parents in all that.' For both him and Madonna, the strain was starting to tell. 'I was starting to withdraw into myself. She could tell I wasn't happy. 'We tried to make light of it, but the situation had changed. It did get to me, and I didn't handle it very well, I was frightened to answer my phone. My stomach churns just talking about it, 'We still really cared about each other, but I was becoming much more aware of how difficult life would be with her. She was frustrated that this stuff upset me. At one point she said to me 'Oh Andrew you love me, but you hate my life.'That was completely true. But what do you do in that situation? I still loved being in her company. I thought the papers would get bored. But I wanted my freedom back.' Late one night, when their visit to London was close to an end, he went for a drive on his own. 'I needed to forget about the whole situation. 'I was questioning everything. I'd begun to feel that perhaps I really was this no-hoper everyone said I was. I didn't want to end the relationship, but I had to prove I wasn't just trying to ride on Madonna's coat tails.' Finally, after driving for many hours, Andy made his decision. He would not go back to America with Madonna, but stay in London and rebuild his life. He hoped their relationship could survive; if not, he would have to accept it.

When he got back to Tregunter Road, Madonna was waiting for him. 'She wanted to knew where I'd been for all this time. 'I just said: 'Listen I've been thinking and I've get something to tell you.'Before I could say another word, she said: 'Well, I've got something to tell you, too.'And that's when she told me she was having a baby.' The pregnancy was totally unexpected 'We were careful.' says Andy, his voice a whisper. 'I was numb, shocked, happy, panicked, sad, tired. I was looking into her eyes, trying desperately to see how she felt. 'When you're really fond of someone, there's a part of you that's happy in that situation; another part that thinks 'Oh no.'It was very early days in our relationship, and I was beginning to realise events were running me, not the other way round. 'I was full of self?doubt anyway, because of all the things being written about me in the newspapers. I wasn't sure I should even be allowed to father a child. I was in a tumultuous state, but trying my hardest to be calm.' His main concern was for Madonna. 'When someone tells you that kind of news, your overwhelming sense is to know how they are. A man feels that even more keenly, because it's something that goes on in the other person's body and you are completely cut off from it.' He pauses, looking helpless. 'I wanted to do the right thing,' he says. 'Whatever that was.'

Daily Mail - 21 January 2002

"The penniless Englishman who seduced Madonna"

PART TWO Exclusive by Alice Fowler

Madonna was pregnant and the timing could hardly have been worse. It wasn't that she didn't want another baby, it was no secret that she was keen to provide her only daughter, Lourdes, with a brother or sister. But November 1997 simply wasn't the right moment. Her relationship with the unborn baby's father, Andy Bird, was just three months old. And already their passionate affair, Madonna's last great romance before her marriage to Guy Ritchie, was under enormous strain.

Andy, a charming English drifter whom she'd met through a mutual friend, was finding the publicity surrounding their unlikely liaison impossible to live with. Virtually penniless, and a stranger to the public eye, he'd been sucked into a world that was utterly alien to him. As we saw on Saturday in the first part of this series, his very indifference to fame had enabled him to stir deeper feelings in Madonna than any of the celebrity lovers of her past. Later, she would describe her memories of their times together as 'the happiest of my life'. For once, it seems, she felt sure that her boyfriend valued her for herself, rather than her public image. But was he the right man to father her baby? Could their relationship survive the worldwide attention that her pregnancy would attract? The events of the next few days were to be pivotal in Andy's life and Madonna's.

'I wish that we were together and happy she wrote to him later, when the relationship finally began to unravel. 'I wish we'd had a child.' On the night that Madonna learned she was pregnant, Andy was driving through London on his own. He wanted time to think about his future and had made up his mind not to return with Madonna to America when she left to promote her new album. Ray Of Light. Instead, he intended to stay in Britain and hide from the glare of the media. If that meant the end of their relationship, it was a risk he was reluctantly prepared to accept.

But before he could reveal his decision Madonna stunned him with her own momentous news. 'I don't think she was sure how she felt,' he remembers. 'She was experiencing the same turmoil I was. Everything about the relationship was in flux'. They had little chance to talk on what was the last night of her stay in London 'We were packing, getting everything done, there were people calling up. We weren't alone, there were nannies and assistants, and her friends coming over to say goodbye. For Andy, already questioning every aspect of his life, there was no one he could turn to for support, I couldn't tell a soul, because I didn't know whom I could trust. I didn't even tell my parents.' Instead, next morning, he and Madonna flew to Miami.

For Andy all thoughts of staying behind in London had evaporated. They spent a few quiet days together at Madonna's three?storey Twenties house in Coconut Grove, next to Sylvester Stallone's estate. For a while, the pregnancy increased their closeness. But, for Madonna in particular, pressures were mounting. 'She was working very hard,' says Andy. 'She'd just finished Ray Of Light and was preparing for the videos. She had a Vanity Fair shoot coming up with Mario Testino the top photographer, and Dolce & Gabbana, had made all these clothes specifically for the shoot. 'There's no getting out of things like that. And they take forever.' They talked about what to do about their unborn child. 'I wanted to support her in her choice, whatever it was,' says Andy. According to the line pedalled by one of Madonna's most recent biographers that choice was made for her. In this version of events she had a miscarriage in her seventh week. The same biographer even repeats claims by Madonna's friends that Andy Bird knew nothing of her condition until after the event. The facts are rather different and sadder. For a few days, the singer wrestled with the decision. In the end, she had an abortion. 'I felt terrible. Absolutely terrible,' says Andy, with painful emphasis. Even now he is unable to talk about a loss so personal he refers to it only as 'the event'.

For them both, it sounds a lonely, desolate time. 'We didn't even have that much time to talk together' he says quietly. 'She had to go to New York for a tribute to her murdered friend Gianni Versace, but she wanted me to go back to her house in LA to get things ready for when she joined me in a few days. 'I felt estranged from everything, and I assume she did, too. It was terribly sad. We were deeply upset. 'Perhaps it would have helped to sit down together, without even talking, and to share a closeness. But long, shared silences don't work the same way on the telephone. They're just long silences and I do remember quite a few. I tried to be supportive, though whether I succeeded is another matter.'

On his own, he felt an overwhelming sense of loss. I wanted to be able to compensate in some way for what had happened. But at the time I was flat broke, I didn't even have a credit card. 'I couldn't arrange for a bunch of flowers to be delivered to her, let alone arrive with one myself. I felt guilty about that as well.' Why didn't he ask Madonna to fly him to New York so they could be together? 'I didn't want to impose on her,' he says awkwardly, 'I wanted to be able to do these things without asking her permission. Perhaps, after such a traumatic event, neither was behaving rationally, but was there not, for Andy at least an element of relief at avoiding the responsibility of becoming a father? 'After three or four years, yes,' he says honestly. 'At the time, not even remotely.' In the past, Madonna had undergone other abortions, including one in 1990 when she began pregnant during a short-lived relationship with the bisexual film extra Tony Ward. The foetus was unhealthy and doctors advised her to terminate the pregnancy.

Throughout her 30's, the singer had given public hints of her hopes of another child. By the time she became pregnant by Andy she was 39. It is not hard to imagine why, this time, Madonna was so devastated by the choice she had made. When she returned to LA from Miami, she and Andy tried in vain to recapture the happiness of their first three months. 'It was coming up to Christmas, and I was very pleased to see her and Lola (her nickname for Lourdes),' he remembers. 'But things were never the same after that. The innocence in the relationship had already started to disappear. We couldn't go back, no matter how hard we tried.' Andy, normally laidback and gentle was becoming increasingly volatile. 'I was going to ridiculous lengths to keep out of the headlines, trying never to appear in public with her. 'But she had to do all this work: the organisation of the album and the promotional tour. My moods were very up and down, and it was difficult for us to get time together.'

In February, he decided to move out of Madonna's and rent an apartment of his own, in a part of LA known as Venice Beach. 'She was about to embark on a tour around America and Europe, and I didn't fancy the prospect of staying in the house on my own,' he says. He also wanted more autonomy, to arrange his life as he wanted, rather than constantly fitting around hers. It sounds like the beginning of the end of the relationship, but that is to underestimate the strength of their bond. Through the months that followed, as Andy tried (without much success) to establish a career as a Hollywood screenwriter, he and Madonna continued to share a deep commitment.

For Andy's birthday on February 3 the first they had spent together. Madonna threw a surprise party. 'We went to my favourite restaurant just off Hollywood Boulevard, and when we walked in I saw this huge table, full of people I knew. 'She had called up all the people I knew in Los Angeles and asked them to be there. 'Just as I sat down, two friends of mine from London - Ben and Martina walked through the door. They were the manager and assistant manager at the Met Bar, one of my favourite hang-outs in London, and she'd met them when we were in Britain. She'd paid for their flights and put them up at the Mondrian hotel, one of the best in the city. 'It was a really lovely thing to do. She knew how homesick I was. 'Martina and I were pretty close and Madonna watched us hugging and kissing each other. On our way home from dinner she turned to me and said: "Why do you like me, Andrew, when Martina is so stunningly beautiful?' It's quite sweet to think that somebody like Madonna could feel a little bit insecure and admit it.

But as Andy says it just goes to show that she's a thoroughly normal person.' For Valentine's Day that same month, she bought him a silver Swiss Army knife from Tiffany with 'Birdy be my Valentine' inscribed on it. 'Which I subsequently lost,' adds Andy, looking sheepish. With money he had saved he bought her a Tiffany necklace, with a tiny diamond. 'I used to joke with my friends, 'What do you buy the woman who has everything?' but she was actually really easy to buy presents for. She was always really gracious when she received gifts.'

Andy, meanwhile, was living a life of extraordinary contrasts. On impulse he had bought a battered 1971 Chevrolet Impala coupe. Because it broke down so often, he got to know the owners of a garage in Santa Monica. Soon, he got a job helping out there, to supplement his income from 'bits and pieces' of film work. With Madonna, meanwhile, be was attending some of the glitziest premieres and events in Hollywood - even though, to avoid the cameras, he usually joined her only at the parties afterwards.

Parties like that are work to Madonna, 'he says. 'Deals are done there, and she is brilliant at networking. Occasionally, we would catch each other's eye and have a quick chat but most of the time I just let her get on with it.' When she presented the Best Song statuette to Celine Dion at the Academy Awards, Andy missed the event itself but went to the famous post-Oscars party given by Vanity Fair magazine. 'She'd gone on ahead but had given me the passes to get in. It was great turning up at this fantastic restaurant, behind a line of presidential limousines, in my ridiculous old car.' At the party guests were given cookies decorated with the cover of the magazine in icing. It was meant to be the ultimate going-home present, a sign they had been at the most coveted social event of the year. Andy typically, was unimpressed 'I got very hungry, an I ate mine,' he says, looking mischievous.

On nights on the town like this he would rub shoulders with stars such as Jack Nicholson and Arnold Schwarzenegger. 'I was always trying not to stare,' he says. 'I remember seeing Tony Curtis, whom I'd watched in Some Like It Hot and Spartacus. It was a shock to see a really old man with a well built platinum blonde on his arm.' He met Madonna's friend, Stella McCartney, the celebrity designer, a couple of times 'a lovely girl' and quite often saw her close friends Sting and Trudi Styler. His happiest times, however were spent at home with Madonna and her daughter Lourdes. 'In some ways, Madonna's a very ordinary woman who enjoys doing ordinary things,' he says.

'Like eating liquorice sticks, watching videos in bed or reading the newspapers over breakfast and not saying a word. 'A lot of people see Madonna as being quite an unhappy moody figure, but she spends far more time being happy than she does being sad. When she wants to, she can have a great sense of humour about herself. 'She used to send herself up by calling herself a creamy smooth pop icon goddess and then she would sing opera when she was heating up Pop Tarts for breakfast. 'A lot of the time we would spend playing with Lola or we'd go on family outings to Disneyland. That was probably the most fun we had, being together like a normal couple with a child. 'She got so much joy from her daughter. Just watching Lola trying to run in the park with her little legs flailing about, would set her off laughing. Nannies would take Lola over to the studio when Madonna was recording and she would take at least a couple of hours out to play with her.

I remember the first time she ever spent a night away from Lola. She had to go into the desert to shoot a video and she was so tearful at being apart from her daughter. 'I stayed at the house with Lola and the next days a car was suppose to take her out to the desert to meet her mother but it broke down. 'Madonna was just distraught she was in a state of panic until the car finally arrived and she could see Lola was safe.' Andy also met members of Madonna's family, including her brother Christopher and her father, Tony Ciccone, who owns a vineyard and winery in northern Michigan. 'He's a lovely man, very down to earth. I remember him talking about special varieties of grape that grow under heavy snowfall. 'One Christmas she bought him some piece of irrigation equipment because that was all he wanted. That's how star-struck he is.'

Madonna spoke little of her mother who died of breast cancer when she was five. 'Everybody knows she lost her mother when she was very young, and I can't even imagine how traumatic that must have been for her,' says Andy. 'I think there is probably an element of that loss in some of the lyrics she writes. You can sense it in her work. 'Her mother was deeply religious and quite passionate about the shrine at Lourdes, which is why Madonna gave that name to her daughter.'

With a flair for art and style, Madonna had many friends in the world of fashion, including the designers Donatella Versace and Stefano Gabbana. 'Because she was quite influential in launching Dolce and Gabbana by wearing their clothes in her videos, they look after her very well,' says Andy. 'At their studio in Milan they have a mannequin with her measurements and a bootmakers last in her shoe size. Vans would regularly turn up at the house with rails of their clothes for her to choose from.' Even so, not all her clothes were from designers. 'She could wear the tattiest pair of jeans and still look good in them. Often she'd walk round the house in just a Hennes vest and look fantastic. She once said to me if she didn't do what she did, she would love to have been in fashion journalism. She is very creative.' There is affection and admiration in his voice; Madonna's, he says often, is a lovely woman.

Yet, for Andy at least something had changed. For all the happy times they shared together, and his growing fondness for Lola, the differences between them, those that had first surfaced in London only to be pushed aside were becoming harder to ignore. Andy's self confidence was suffering, trying to develop film projects of his own, he felt he was only taken seriously as Madonna's boyfriend. 'I felt cheap in a way, that I'd got where I was through no merit of my own. 'When opportunities were offered. I didn't take them. I was suspicious of everyone.' Madonna, who had encouraged Andy's career was disappointed at his lack progress. 'I think she thought I had to have a career within that world in order for us to continue a successful relationship. 'Her work is so important to her, and she needed someone whose career was equally important to them. She's very driven, and she ended up wishing I was more driven, too.'

At the start of the relationship, Andy's lack of money had never seemed a problem. Now, his pride became an issue. Simple things, such as Madonna's effort to make her unashamedly scruffy lover wear new clothes, made him angry. 'I eventually bought myself some smarter outfits, but not until we'd been seeing one another for quite a while. I'd hate to think of myself m someone who can be bought. We were fighting more: such as 'Where are my socks?' - 'In the bin' - 'But they've got months left in them.' Our relationship was gradually breaking under the strain of all the things I didn't like about the situation. 'It was changing me: I certainly wasn't the person she had met. I knew I didn't belong in LA. I felt like, a child among a group of adults. And Madonna was changing, too. As time went on, she was less ready to look at the problems between us in a rose-coloured way.' Both recognised the pressures they were under 'I'm so sorry that you were threatened by my career and fame and past,' wrote Madonna sadly to Andy, later in their relationship. 'I wish I could erase all the bad memories between us and go back to LA before we left for New York and London. Before we both got scared.'

The passion that remained between them led to fierce, arguments. 'That in itself can almost make a stronger link between you, because you become locked in battle,' says Andy. 'Everything was heightened.' It was clear the situation could not go on. Finally, Andy decided to leave LA and return to London. Even then, their relationship continued, in angry phone calls and long, heartfelt letters. Neither could let go completely. It was not until late 1998 that the situation began to change.

By then, as we will see tomorrow, Madonna had met the man who would transform her life once more: a little known film-maker named Guy Ritchie.

Daily Mail - 22 January 2002

"The penniless Englishman who seduced Madonna"

PART THREE / FINAL Exclusive by Alice Fowler

Andy Bird remembers clearly the moment his girlfriend Madonna first set eyes on Guy Ritchie. There was, he notes carefully, a 'chemistry' between them. Ironically it is the very word he uses to describe the start of their own extraordinary love affair, just a year before. Bird, an unassuming and virtually penniless Englishman, who was scratching out a living as an aspiring film screenwriter, had been introduced to her through a mutual friend. A sexual spark was struck, and he suddenly found himself the boyfriend of the most famous woman on the planet. It was one of the most unexpected but tumultuous affairs of Madonna's amazing life.

As we have already seen, in this series, she was carrying Andy's child within three months. But although he stirred profound feelings in the singer touching her more deeply than previous celebrity lovers such as Warren Beatty and John Kennedy Jr, Andy was unable to cope with the constant blaze off publicity in which she lived. Uncertain of their future together Madonna aborted their child. And by the time she met Ritchie in the summer of 1998 she and Andy were living apart. Madonna was in the US with her daughter Lourdes (known as Lola), promoting her album Ray Of Light. Andy was in London, resuming his bohemian life in Notting Hill. His first job when he returned was to work on the door of his old haunt, the Met Bar in Mayfair, not surprisingly, the fact that Madonna's boyfriend was working as a glorified bouncer instantly made the papers.

'I was flat broke.' he explains shrugging apologetically 'The manager was one of my friends, and I needed the money.' His relationship with Madonna continued in long, fraught phone calls and letters in which they tried to make amends for the rows. 'It's Mother's Day, and I have just put Lola to sleep,' wrote Madonna in one typical letter. 'The past few hours I've been distracted with thoughts of you and our last conversation. 'I hate to fight with you especially around Lola. I hate it when you call me names. The whole time we argue, all I really want to say to you is that I wish you were here and I was looking to your eyes. 'It's been so long since we've seen each other - and nothing would make me happier. But we never seem to get to tenderness because you we still so angry with me. You save your tender words for Lola and it hurts me so.' Both of them feIt anxious and insecure.

When the newspapers discovered that Andy was back in London, they labelled him 'broken-hearted Andy Bird' and were quick to speculate that Madonna had moved on to other men. Andy says: 'I read one report that Robbie Williams had been having dinner with her. In fact, it was all down to some over-zealous public relations person, met they'd never even met. 'But when you're on the other side of the Atlantic, you think: 'What the hell are you doing?' It would frustrate her that I would suddenly start quizzing her about stuff in the papers.' Madonna had questions of her own. 'She knew I'd recovered if not all then certainly some of my anonymity. To a certain extent I could run around and do what I wanted to do. If I'd have wanted to have an affair, I could have done. 'There was hostility on her side.' How would I know if you were doing anything?'she would say. It wasn't really jealousy, but it was definitely uncertainty.' Did they stay faithful to one another? 'I can only speak for myself,' says Andy. 'But yes, I did. The trust in the relationship had pretty much disappeared by then, but not because we'd started having other relationships. It's just that when you're arguing all the time, you do lose your trust.'

Despite the tensions, neither was prepared to give up on each other - or as Andy puts it, 'concede defeat.' Almost every other weekend he would fly to the U.S. 'I'd spend two or three days In New York, then fly back to London for a couple of weeks. It sounds glamorous but it wasn't at all. It was actually quite laborious. 'We couldn't really communicate. By the time we'd be getting used to being with one another again, it would be time for me to leave. 'Madonna was still very helpful, she paid for the flights far more regularly than I did. But you have to be very solid to continue a long-distance relationship and our foundations were really non-existent.' At times, the affair seems to have descended into farce. 'There was always an issue about how smelly my feet were, especially when I was travelling backwards and forwards to New York. When I got to her apartment and took my shoes off, Lola would be going, 'Pooh! Stinky Andrew!' Madonna used to make me wash my feet before I got into bed, with hydrogen peroxide, which Americana use as antiseptic.

'Her apartment in New York had a balcony overlooking Central Park, with a big urn on it. Once. I ran out there in my stockinged feet to have a cigarette, and took my socks off and put them in the urn. 'I got a call from her three weeks later saying Lola had been pointing at this urn saying "Stinky Andrew" because she'd found my socks. That kind of thing was very funny. But I think I as beginning to stretch Madonna's sense of humour somewhat.' Yet - remarkably, perhaps - a deep well of affection remained as Madonna's letters show. 'We haven't spoken for a week and it makes me very sad, but there's nothing I can do, so I'm sending you this note and some music I'd like you to listen to,' she wrote after one argument. 'I think of you so often when I listen to music. I feel it's the one thing we have that has not been tainted is a love of good music. 'You have a very good ear. The fact is there is nothing you wouldn't be good at, given the right circumstances. I've said it before and I'll say it again, you have so much talent and creativity inside you. It just needs to be manifested. 'You have so much to offer the universe I look forward to seeing into your heart. You are still so deeply embedded in my heart.'

Sometimes she would send Andy touching presents. 'After one bout of arguing, she put together a lovely little parcel for me, with a scented candle, some magazines, a little picture Lola had drawn, a letter and a CD,' he remembers. 'Occasionally, she would send money. That would make me feel pretty rough, and I'd invariably give it away. But I suppose she wanted to help and show she cared.'

For weeks the relationship waxed and waned. 'Just when I thought I couldn't take any more, something would happen to give us breathing space for the next round. She'd write me letters and I'd write to her. 'We'd be breaking up all the time, maybe not talking for a few days. Then we'd call each other up, or send long faxes. There was never a point when it really ended.' This was the stormy, uncertain background against which Madonna first met Guy Ritchie another handsome Englishman, also involved in film-making, although with rather more success than Andy Bird. The singer had come to London for work, and had been invited to a barbecue at the Wiltshire home of Sting and his wife Trudi Styler. Trudi was a close friend of Madonna and was also involved in Ritchie's new film, Lock, Stock And Two Smoking Barrels.

For Andy and Madonna's, the day of the barbecue had started badly. She was keen for him to come with her, while he wanted to see some of his friends. 'I was heading home after seeing her at her hotel when she rang me on the mobile, asking if I was sure I didn't want to go,' he remembers. 'I wasn't keen because I was still wearing the clothes I'd had on the night before and was hardly dressed for barbecue, but I agreed to go with her. 'Her chauffeured Mercedes people-carrier picked me up on Pack Lane and I just jumped in next to the driver. Madonna - who was in the back with one of her assistants and Lola - interpreted this as a snub. 'It wasn't meant that way at all - but things went downhill from there. By the time we got to the party we were hardly speaking to each other.

'Trudi introduced us both to Guy and I could see a chemistry between him and Madonna. They looked good together - they kind of fitted. There was an instant interest and they started chatting straight away.' When they all sat down for dinner Madonna wanted Andy to sit next to her. Instead, he sat at the other end of the table with Lola. At least sitting next to Lola, I knew we wouldn't have an argument. Madonna ended up sitting next to Guy and they seemed to be getting on really well. Surprisingly, perhaps, Andy insists he felt no jealousy. 'There didn't seem to be anything to be jealous about. I'd seen that they'd hit it off at the start but now they were just two people at a party, chatting away like everyone else.

To this day, Andy insists that he knows nothing of how Madonna's relationship with Ritchie developed over the following months. But by March 1999, when he next met Guy, his own relationship with Madonna was over and Ritchie had very obviously taken his place. Their chance encounter at the Met Bar was to generate sensational headlines suggesting Ritchie had flattened his supposed rival in an ugly brawl. But that's not how Andy Bird remembers it. 'I was there with friend, and he was, too,' Andy says. 'We ended up having a chat. It was very loud and we went to have a talk about things in the lobby, which was quieter. 'I suppose I was saying 'no hard feelings', which was obviously a one-sided sentiment. Probably I said something derogatory about her, or about her life. Whatever it was, he suddenly pushed me over. 'It was out I nowhere - I was sitting on a chair and he pushed me off. But it wasn't the big brawl that some people have claimed.' Wisely, Andy did not respond and returned to the bar, while the doormen threw Ritchie out.

Why, though, did Guy react so violently? Perhaps he saw Andy as a threat, or at least a thorn in his side. Bird remains mystified by the scuffle, but refuses to speak harshly of the man who displaced him in Madonna's affections. 'Who knows what Madonna might have told him about me?' he says. 'But it wasn't like I was standing in his way. I wasn't in touch with Madonna by this stage and I don't think I even had her phone number. 'He clearly had - and has - very strong feelings for her. He'd had a drop to drink, and love can make you do silly things,' Possibly, Ritchie was simply aware of how intensely his girlfriend still cared for Andy.

In the months after Guy and Madonna met, she had continued to see Andy regularly. For her 40th birthday in August 1998 - not long after her first meeting with Guy it was Andy whom she flew but to be at her side. 'I went over to New York for a week and we had a couple of days together at her apartment,' Andy remembers. 'Then she chartered a small sea-place to take us from Manhattan to this gross Hugh Hefner-style mansion in the Hamptons that she had hired for her birthday. 'There were the two of us, her brother Christopher, her assistant, plus Lola, the nanny and a couple of friends. Then we were joined by about 30 people at the mansion and we had a lovely dinner party. 'We played silly party games and everyone seemed to have a great time. Her masseuse came along and gave everyone massages as her present to Madonna. 'After dinner, we went into this huge cinema that was in the mansion and watched the new film of The Avengers. But it was so awful that I went off into the video library and came back with In The Heat Of The Night, with Sidney Poitier, which everyone enjoyed.' At the time, Madonna was deeply influenced by Memoirs Of A Geisha. Arthur Golden's compelling novel about the eroticism and exploitation of a Japanese geisha. Back in London, Andy had bought an antique kimono for Madonna and a smaller one for Lola. 'I also got a huge chunk of silvercoloured metal and, with a friend of mine, carved her out a huge silver heart, which I took over for her. It must have weighed more than a house brick and she seemed to appreciate it. 'But we still had an argument, even on her birthday. I wasn't feeling well and kept disappearing to throw up, and she accused me of being ill on purpose to spoil her birthday.'

For months the arguments dragged on. 'One of us would slam the phone down and ring back just to slam it down again,' says Andy. 'She changed her numbers, I changed mine. It was almost like a competition, neither of us wanted to admit defeat. Neither of us was very good at saying sorry and we would never admit to being in the wrong.' For Madonna, Andy's whole approach to life was the easy-going, impulsive style that had helped bring them together in the first place - was wearing thin. 'I'm irresponsible in fundamental ways, which did become an issue' he concedes. It was about whether I could say to Madonna: 'I can look after you.' That was important, Madonna may have grown up looking after herself and everyone else around her, but I think she does want to be looked after. 'Not looked after financially, necessarily - that would be a daunting task. But to have someone who at least contributes to the household, who organises things, takes responsibility for things. 'Even if you can look after yourself particularly well, as she can, you want that.'

Certainly, Madonna had always been frustrated by Bird's laid back attitude to his career. In Guy Ritchie she found a man whose ambition matched her own.' But it was also a matter of emotional commitment. The truth is, with seven years between them, Andy and Madonna may simply have wanted different things. 'I think she was looking for a caring, stable relationship. I know she wanted another child, but I knew that I wasn't ready to become a parent.' Had fate run a little differently, it is conceivable that Madonna could have ended up marrying Andy Bird rather than Guy Ritchie. But Andy remains sceptical - even if they'd had a child, he says, it would not have made a difference. 'We would still have broken up. There were serious difficulties. Having a child wouldn't have changed our personalities, it ought have made us a little less headstrong but I don't think, ultimately, we would have stayed together. The relationship might just have lasted a little longer, that's all.'

Indeed, looking back, he is unsure how deep their feelings really were. 'In hindsight I'd have to look deep inside me to say we fell in love. 'It's very difficult to quantify those feelings when you're in the moment, whether it's infatuation, or desire, or love. But I don't really think we were in love.' It's a difficult claim to accept when you look back at Madonna's letters to Andy, where she talks of a love she describes as 'profound and immense' add tells him, 'I will never get over you.' The evidence, indeed, appears to entirely contradict his self-effacing verdict. But then, even though he has chosen to tell his story, Bird is a touchingly diffident man, determined not to exaggerate his role in Madonna's life.

In July 1999, over two evenings, they saw each other for the final time. Madonna had flown to London and was staying at the exclusive private members' club, Home House. Out of the blue she phoned Bird and invited him over, after seeing Guy Ritchie earlier that evening. 'I don't know why we saw each other then,' Andy says. 'Maybe it was just so that we could, in some kind of way, say our goodbyes to each other. The chemistry was no longer there. 'The anger still flared up because we are a couple of fighters, but our feelings had changed. The passion that had been there at the beginning of our relationship had gone by that stage. 'We had dinner together and chatted about what we had been doing, I can't remember what our last words were that night, I remember the emotions more than the words. There was resignation and a certain amount of sorrow, but no regrets that it hadn't worked out between us. 'She's certainly not one for regrets, She's very forward-looking and positive, as you can see from what she's achieved in her life.'

Even then, Madonna could not part from Andy completely. She called him the next day and arranged to meet him for dinner at a restaurant called Bali Sugar in Notting Hill. 'We actually got on much better that time. She had just got back from staying at Donatella Versace's place on Lake Como, and she'd bought a video camera with her so I could see where she had been staying. We had a pleasant conversation and then she went back to Home House, packed and got on a plane that night. Even then, we couldn't say we would never see each other again and we spoke subsequently on the phone. 'I was supposed to go over to Miami for her birthday the following month but it was at the height of the season and I couldn't afford the £800 for the flight. 'She was saying things such as 'If you really loved me you would find the money and I was saying, if you really loved me you would understand my situation.' So we didn't see each other again. I think we were both exhausted and had finally ground each other down.'

That Christmas, Madonna wrote to him one last time. 'It was just before she and Guy announced her pregnancy, She just said 'Hi, I hope things we OK with you. Lola still mentions you occasionally. Maybe we should meet it would be nice to have a chat about things.' Andy did not respond. 'It didn't really warrant it. It was just a few words on a Christmas card. She sent it to a restaurant I used to go to, and I only got it a month and a half later.' By then, he explains, the moment had passed: the world knew she was having a baby. 'I felt she was opening a new chapter in her life. By that stage, I definitely had as well.' How did he feel, after the loss of their own child, hearing Madonna was pregnant with another man? It didn't affect me,' he says evenly. 'By then, my head was somewhere else. Already it seemed another life. 'I did feel pleased for her. And from the little bits of information that filter through to me I understand they we very happy.'

It seems an odd coincidence that, after Andy, Madonna should go on to marry another Englishman. Andy, however says he saw little sign of a hankering for English men. 'She was married to Sean Penn and had a long relationship with Warren Beatty, and there's nothing remotely English about them. 'Since she and Guy got together, she's probably discovered quite a lot of nice things about England. But I don't think she was looking for an English husband.' While Madonna has found happiness with Ritchie - and given birth to a son Rocco - Andy has stepped back into the shadows. Today, he has another, happy relationship. He has grown up, it seems, in the past few years. Even now, his phone still rings with people wanting to talk to him about Madonna.

There have been some false suggestions that he is planning to write a book about his experiences, in fact, he hopes that by telling his story in this series, he can draw a line beneath the whole episode and get on with the rest of his life. He has, he says fervently, few regrets. I can look back and categorically say Madonna's a lovely, lovely person. But I definitely wasn't the right person for her, add she wasn't for me.' In the end, the contrasts that once seemed so alluring tore the relationship apart. Then love was at its best, an extraordinary fairy tale. Sadly, as with most real-life fairy tales, there could be no lasting happy ending.

[palindrome17]

The Flowers that Grow in the Alleyway ♔ Hwang Hyunjin

Genre: friends to lovers au (i guess), slice of life, angst, fluff

Pairing: hyunjin x reader

Word Count: 7.1k

Warnings: swearing/cursing

Synopsis: It is said that the alleyway isn’t a good place to find people, but this time is different. When a troubled boy named Hyunjin crosses paths with you, things start to look bright. However, as time passes, feelings start to emerge. Could this lead to a chaotic disaster or perhaps a magnificent beauty?

The sound of typing on a keyboard for hours upon hours was starting to give you a headache. You looked out your apartment window to see that the sky was turning a light crimson color, as the sun’s rays came through, softly lighting your room with a red/pink hue. Your eyes started to hurt from staring at a screen for hours, so you decided it was time for a break. You closed the laptop quietly and laid it down at the foot of your bed. The unusual stillness of the city was almost jarring to you. Most of the time the city is bustling and busy, but today felt rare. The calm and still atmosphere almost made you forget that life for you sucks at the moment. All of it seemed to consist of deadlines, taxes, jobs, money, and things that completely weigh you down. You glanced around at your bare room, remembering that you have little to nothing due to shortage of money. The phone beside you made a loud buzz, snapping you out of the trance. You saw that it was a message from your mother.

 Mother: It’s been a while since I’ve heard from you. I hope you’re doing okay. Studying must be very stressful for you but remember that getting a job that makes money is important.

 You took a long and deep sigh, as you stared at your phone. Your mother wasn’t helping your situation of feeling burdened, even if she was trying to help.

 You: Yes, mother. I understand. I meant to call you before, but things aren’t going the way I want to right now. Studying has been really stressful and-

 You paused and started to hold down the delete key. You didn’t want to show her that you couldn’t make it. Even when you were younger, people have always told you that you were a strong person. So, in return, it made you independent… and isolated.

 You: Yes, mother. I understand.

 The sound of a message sent rang clear in your room. You set down your phone on your puffy bedsheets as you rested your head against the headboard. Eyes closed as you basked in the quietness of your room, feeling the slight heat radiating from outside.

 Although not much time has passed when you heard a loud thud sound, followed by someone’s loud cursing of an array of colorful language, “Fuck! Shit! Damn!” all in that order.

 Your heart jumped from the sudden noise, as you were almost too scared to peer out your window to see who it was. You waited patiently, hoping that the person would continue to walk on. However, that wasn’t the case. It seemed like it was never the case for you. The loud noises continued as the person kept getting frustrated. What the hell is going on? You slowly got up out of your bed, curiosity slowly peaking interest. You at least wanted to know if they were okay. The crack of your window being pulled up caused the other person to suddenly stop the commotion. You stepped out onto the fire escape and peered off down to the alley; hands placed on the railing, looking at the guy from down below.

 “Um, excuse me? Are you okay?” you asked the person from below.

 You were only on the second floor of the apartment complex, so you can easily see who was making the commotion. It was a guy who seemed to be frustrated beyond belief, but as he looked up, he was startled. You noticed that his jet-black hair was awry, probably due to getting all upset. His eyes were dark like black coffee, although you could see in his eyes that he was hurting. Lips plump, almost to a pout, but turned down like he was about to cry. To you, he looked like a sad cat. The soft crimson rays turned to a light pink hue and saturated every object that it could touch, giving the boy a dim pink glow around his edges. You can only blink as you saw this hurt guy from down below, waiting for his response.

 “Fuck off! What do you want?!” he yelled up to you, obviously distressed that you witnessed him almost lose it.

 You slightly jumped due to his response, but you knew how to handle people like this, “Well I’m sorry that I just wanted to see if you were okay.” You said with a slight hint of sass in response, however not wanting to be too harsh to a guy who looked so miserable.

 The guy still had an angry demeaner plastered on his face, “The fuck you say! You don’t even know me!” he said through gritted teeth.

 You nodded in response, taking in what he said, “That’s true. But I know a hurting person when I see one. I can’t just let someone be so unhappy, even if I don’t know them.” You paused and tried to give him a reassuring smile, “I guess that’s just who I am.”

 “I don’t give a damn who you are. Mind your own business!” he spat, clearly still angry, and not wanting you to know anything about his life.

 You gave a slight sigh, this fucking guy, “If you didn’t want to talk to me, you could’ve just walked away already.” you smirked slightly, knowing damn well you’re right.

 He narrowed his eyes to you, “Don’t fucking talk to me like you know better.” He stated, but you could hear his small voice crack at the end of the sentence.

 Your expression softened as you took a small breath, “You’re right. I don’t know a damn thing.” Swinging yourself up onto the railing of the platform, “But there’s no need to be perfect, we’re all just human.” You stated with a calm tone.

 The boy frowned, “What the hell do you mean?! You know nothing! Stop trying to think you fucking know anything about me! You’re so frustrating!” his voice becoming raspier and drier with each word.

 You tilted your head slightly, “The fact that you think I’m frustrated says more about you than me, don’t you think?” You asked slowly.

 The boy then fell apart right then and there. His small whimpers echoed in the alleyway. He crumpled like paper onto the ground as he leaned against the wall, his cries getting louder. His legs pulled tightly against his chest as his hands ran through his hair. You could tell he was trying his hardest to hold back, but to no prevail. You slowly got off the railing and walked down the stairs to comfort the boy, not knowing how he’ll react. Your feet made a loud thud as you stepped on the ground, making him try to hide himself as much as possible. You looked at the crying boy in front of you and sat on the ground next to him. His cries became softer as you just sat beside him quietly. You tucked your legs to your chest and rested your chin on your knees, looking straight ahead. The sun slowly dipped down below the city buildings, the sky still stained with the light pink color.

 Breaking the silent crying, you said gently, “Life fucking sucks, don’t you think?”

 The boy raised his head as he turned to look at you, his face tear stained and eyes red, “Yeah, it really does.” He shakily replied.

 You gave him a small comforting smile, “What’s your name?”

 He gave a slight sniff and wiped his eyes with his sleeve, “My name is Hyunjin.”

 “Nice to meet you, dumpster cat.” You teased, trying to make him laugh.

 Hyunjin cracked a smile, “Nice to meet you too, kitten.” he laughed.

 Ever since that day, Hyunjin walked down the alleyway to see you. You never really knew why since there was really no other reason to come this way. However, he soon became a friend of yours, something that you haven’t had in a while. It’s been a few months since the first day you met Hyunjin, and between those months there was laughter, crying, and everything else in between. Each day with Hyunjin made every day more tolerable and each day you spent with Hyunjin, he felt wanted.

➵

You were sitting in your chair at your desk, staring at your laptop with a dead expression. Studying has become more difficult for you, partly due to stress and mostly due to Hyunjin. You spent most of your time with him because he seemed to always be around with you. Not that you’re complaining or anything, he just makes studying harder for you. He became someone who was important to you, nevertheless. So very important. Though, if you were completely honest, you started having feelings for him. It would never work out, you told yourself constantly, so you pushed down those feelings. Snapping out of your daze, you closed your laptop and leaned your head back, so you were looking at the ceiling. The lights of the city beamed brightly against the void of the night sky. Surprisingly you can still see the city lights through your closed blinds. You stood up and turned on your fairy lights, trying to get a night vibe as you started to play your favorite slow songs through your small speaker. Suddenly, your phone started to buzz, and you picked it up to see who it was. To no surprise, it was the devil himself. You answered the call as you put it up to your ear, the song still playing in the background.

 “Hey. What’s up?” you asked, genuinely confused why he called you.

 “Nothing much. I was wondering if um…” he paused, he seemed nervous to you, “if you would like to hang out with me tonight? Just to take a walk around the city.” He finished, saying the last few words rather quickly.

 You paced a little as you thought about it, “Are you asking me on a date then?” you teasingly asked, almost hoping Hyunjin would say yes, “Cause it sure sounds like it.”

 A long pause was received until Hyunjin finally spoke, “Do you want it to be a date?” his voice sounding sheepish to you.

 A smile pulled at your lips, “I guess so~” you replied with a slight hint of sass, you could almost feel the joy radiating on the other side of the phone.

 “Okay, it’s a date then. I’ll meet you in the alley in 10 minutes,” he spoke quickly, “kitten.” He added and hung up before you had a chance to react.

 Suddenly your face became hot. Nicknames weren’t this much of a deal to you, since you also have a nickname for him. Though, this time it felt different. All the other times it was just for fun and jokes, but this time it felt real. You quickly turned off your music as you prepared for Hyunjin to arrive. There wasn’t too much to do since you were already dressed nicely, so you decided to put on a little makeup for the time being. 10 minutes have passed as you sat on your bed, checking your phone occasionally. Unexpectedly you heard a stone being thrown at your window. It made you jump at first, but then your nerves calmed down when you realized it must be Hyunjin. This was one of several way of letting you know that it was him. This little brat could’ve texted me instead. He’s such an idiot. You thought as you quickly put on shoes and opened your window. Still not realizing that you came out, he kept throwing stones at the window. One hit you right on the arm as you closed your window.

 “Damnit, Hyunjin. I’m right here! You can stop now!” you yelled down to him.

 Hyunjin audibly dropped all the stones in hand, “Oh, sorry. Just wanted to make sure you were awake.” He paused for a moment, “I could’ve texted you that I was here, but there’s no fun in that.” He laughed.

 You rolled your eyes as you came to the ground level, “My god, you are such a child sometimes, Jinnie.” You playfully added his nickname at the end.

 “Like you’re one to talk.” He rolled his eyes dramatically, “You’re just as much of a child than me!” he argued.

 You could only smile at him, “Fine, whatever you say. Let’s go while the night is still young.” you took his hand and pulled him as you stepped out into the city lights.

 You walked around the city for what seemed like hours, doing random activities when you two spotted something to do. It seemed like everything was a dream, so blissfully perfect. Utterly, stupidly, chaotically perfect. You made it to a bridge where the trees hovered over like clouds, the city lights in this part of the area were less luminated, the running stream below cooed softly, and the scarcity of people around was almost alarming. This felt uncannily perfect. Hyunjin stood right beside you as you simply stared off into the city. You let out a sigh as the wind blew the air out of you, getting lost in the feeling of complete calmness. You felt a nudge from your side as it broke you back to reality, looking at Hyunjin, you almost forgot how to speak. The low lighting made his features blend nicely, hair almost to the point of messy, and lips so irresistible it should be a crime. You had to admit, Hyunjin was so beautiful, it was an absolute mystery why he kept coming around and hanging out with someone like you. Though, everything about Hyunjin is a complete mystery.

 “Are you okay? You were just staring at me while I was talking to you.” He laughed, noticing you almost creepily stare at him.

 Your heart began to beat faster, “I’m fine! I’m sorry, its just that um…” you were at a loss of words, your mind quickly trying to find an excuse.

 “C’mon, I know what’s up.” He lightly pushed your shoulder, “I’m just too handsome that everyone seems to be distracted by me.” He gave a signature smile as he combed his hair back with his fingers.

 A laugh erupted from you, “Absolutely not.” You shook your head, “I mean, I’m not going to tell you how to view yourself, but handsome isn’t part of it.”

 Hyunjin pouted, “Why’re you so rude to me? What have I done to deserve this hate?” he whined.

 You chuckled, he’s such a child, “It’s not that I’m rude to you, it’s just how I show my affection, Jinnie.”

 “Oh, I see now. You do care about me then~” he said with a playful tone.

 You rolled your eyes and glanced down at the ground with a smile, “Idiot. I do care about you. Maybe just in a peculiar way, I suppose.” You looked back out into the city to take in the view.

 You could feel Hyunjin stare at you as he kept quiet. You always wondered what was going on in his head, because sometimes it was really questionable. You didn’t dare look back at him because you were too embarrassed to face him again.

 He finally spoke, “Are you okay?” he asked, genuinely concerned, “I can tell something has been bothering you for the past few days. If there is anything, please tell me.” He begged in a pleading manner as he took your hand in his on the rail.

 Your heart began to sink as you tried to come up with a way to tell him, but nothing came to mind, “Honestly,” you coughed out, retreating your hand from his, “I don’t even know myself. Things have been so hard for me recently that I’ve been so worn down by trying to do good.” You fessed up, giving him almost a hauntingly calm, sad expression.

 You could tell the look on his face that he was hurt by the expression on your face and the words that were said, “You know I’m always here for you. Even if we haven’t known each other for that long,” he paused, thinking carefully about his next words, “I feel like, a connection between you and me. Like, we understand each other.”

 You nodded slowly, “Yeah, I feel the same way too. Thank you, though. I know that you’ll always be with me.” You looked back out into the city, “If we’re being honest here, I don’t think I’ve ever asked you what your situation was back in the alleyway, the first day I met you. Why were you there?” you asked hesitantly as you turned towards him.

 “Well,” he started, “There has been some family issues recently, and I found out some things that I… don’t even like to think about right now.” He said slowly, glancing around as he spoke, never directly looking you in the eyes, “I stormed out of the house, not really knowing where I was going. Somehow, I ended up in your alleyway, and that’s where I was at my breaking point.” He paused and looked at you directly, “Though, it wasn’t all bad… because that’s where I found you.” Hyunjin ended as he gave you a ghost of a smile.

 Your brain couldn’t come up with any words to tell him. You were glad that he told you his problems, but did he also just tell you that he was happy to find you? Your heart almost gave out when you heard him say those words. The night air breeze went through your body as you just stood there, looking at this beautifully problematic person, as you just wanted to tell him everything you felt about him, but physically unable to tell him. The trees answered with rustling against the river’s comments. Hyunjin stared at you, looking like he was about to tear up, anticipating for a response from you.

 “Hyunjin, I’m sorry about what’s happening.” You finally spoke against the wind, “I just want you to know that I’ll never leave you, never. Not now, not ever.” You gave him your best smile in the moment.

 You could tell that gave Hyunjin a sense of relief as he relaxed a bit, though still having an aura of sadness against him. The silence between you and Hyunjin was almost frightening, however, there was a sense of relaxed serenity. You could’ve stayed in the moment forever if you could. Through all the chaos of banter, you suddenly felt a wave of tiredness. Feeling the effects of sleepiness was apparent to Hyunjin as he chuckled under his breath as you yawned and rubbed your eyes.

 “What?” you asked drowsily, “I’m just tired.” You stated as you looked at Hyunjin with sleepy eyes.

 “Do you think you can make it home?” Hyunjin asked as he took you by the arm.

 You nodded in response, trying to walk back, but tiredness caught up to you too quickly, “Jinnie. I don’t think I can walk anymore. My legs are dying out on me.” You complained as you dragged your feet.

 Hyunjin only laughed at the state you were in, which was different from what he was used to, “Here, I’ll carry you then. I’ll give you a piggyback ride~” he offered as he bent down a little, offering to carry you.

 You gave out a little giggle, “I told you. You’re definitely the child here.”

 “Do you want a ride or not? Cause I’ll just leave you here.” He jokingly replied with a wide smile.

 You pouted, “No, don’t leave me. I wanna ride.” As you jumped up on his back.

 You felt weightless as your feet lifted off the ground, it felt like you were floating. You held onto Hyunjin’s shoulders as he started to walk back to your apartment. Though, slowly getting tired, you rested your arms loosely around his neck and eyes feeling heavy like rain clouds, you leaned forward against Hyunjin’s back. The lights of the city between your dazed eyes looked like little yellow fuzzy circles, a light laugh emerged from your lips.

 Hyunjin turned his head slightly to the side, “What’s so funny back there?”

 “Just the lights. That’s all.” you mumbled as you started to close your eyes.

 You only heard an audible sigh, but you felt a smile form on Hyunjin’s lips as he continued to walk on. Eyes starting to close, you soon dozed off into a light sleep.

 You felt a slight jerk to your side as you woke up from the light nap. You looked around to see that you’re back in the alleyway, safe and sound.

 “Thank you for taking me all the way back here. You must be tired.” You looked at him while getting off his back.

 Hyunjin bent his back as he stretched, “No problem. Anything for you, kitten.” He replied with a smile.

 You let out an airy laugh, still tired, “Well, I had a really great time with you, Jinnie.” You weakly smiled back, “I suppose this is where our adventure ends, huh?”

 Hyunjin nodded solemnly, “I suppose so…” he glanced at you, then down the alley, “I guess I should be heading on then. I’ll text you when I’m safe.”

 “Please do.” you said as you ascended the stairs to your window, every so often glancing down to Hyunjin walking down the alley.

 For some reason, seeing him leave made you anxious. Maybe it was because its late, or maybe because you worry about his safety, or maybe just because you don’t want him to leave. Hyunjin looked back to give you a wave and a smile as he started to get out of range. It was late, people were sleeping, but that didn’t matter to you.

 You peered over the railing as you yelled his name, “Hyunjin! Come back here!” You soon saw Hyunjin run back down the alley as you walked down the stairs as fast as you could.

 Hyunjin arrived at the bottom of the stairs, taking a breath, as you were on the middle of the staircase, looking down at him. He looked at you concerned and confused.

 “What’s wrong? Is everything okay?!” he started walking up the staircase right up to the step below you.

 You could only feel your heart against your ribcage, your heartbeat pumping loud in your ear, “Just stay in my apartment. You have a far walk back, and I don’t want anything bad to happen to you.” You stated as you looked at him.

 Hyunjin gave you a questionable look, “You want me to stay in your apartment, with you?” he said slowly, seeing if he understood your request correctly.

 “Yeah,” you said softly, “I just…” your mind was drawing a blank as you looked at him.

 Hyunjin smiled, “Thanks. I’ll stay for the night, I suppose.”

 You reciprocated a smile as you turned and walked back up the stairs. You could hear Hyunjin walking closely behind until you got to your window. You slid up the window as it made a loud creaking noise, your curtains swaying from the light breeze from outside. You slipped in as you quickly glanced around your room to see if there was anything embarrassing that needed to be put away before Hyunjin had a chance to make fun of you. Thank god that everything was put away, though. You exhaled happily as you heard your window being closed and shut. You turned around to see Hyunjin glancing around your room, the pale soft fairy lights of your room gave him a dark shadow with a small halo outline. Damn, why does he have to be so attractive.

 “You know, I don’t think I’ve ever been in your room.” Hyunjin said as he was walking around your room, looking at everything.

 You sat on your bed, “Yeah, because I didn’t have a reason for you to come in my room.” You replied as you watched him look around.

 Hyunjin smirked at you as he stood across from you, “Yeah? Maybe you should have some reasons for me to come in then.” he grabbed you chair and sat down on it.

 You knew exactly what he meant, but that wasn’t going to get under your skin, “Fuck you, Jinnie.” You laughed as you threw a pillow at him, “Don’t even think about it.” You rolled your eyes at him.

 Hyunjin caught the pillow as he hugged it, “I know, I know.” He laughed along, “Just wanted to tease you, kitten~”

 “Stop calling me that.” You gave him a look, almost sounding annoyed.

 “What… Kitten? Why? It’s adorable.” He gave you a big smile as he started to become a flirt.

 You sighed, “It’s not adorable.” you said, adjusting yourself on your bed, “Besides, don’t you have other friends to joke around with?”

 He became silent for a moment, thinking, “I do. But they’re not as fun to be around as you. I just really enjoy being around with you.” He confessed, almost shyly.

 Thank god that it was dark in your room, otherwise he would’ve seen the massive blush on your face. This was the only few times that he was almost shy to tell you things, but that made you happy to see him open up.

 “I really enjoy being around you too.” You replied with a bashful smile, “You really mean a lot to me, Hyunjin.” You admitted while looking away.

 “You mean a lot to me, too.” He smiled as he rubbed the back of his neck.

 You had an idea as you took out your phone as you turned on your favorite slow song. The music started playing through your small speaker as you got off your bed and stood in the middle of your room. You looked to Hyunjin, making a proposal.

 “Wanna dance with me?” you asked as the song continued to play.

 He stood up and slowly walked toward you, “Of course.”

 Hyunjin took you by the waist as he hugged his arms around them, pressing you close to him. You wrapped your arms around his neck, falling onto him. You leaned your head into his chest, hearing his steady heartbeat play along with the music, it made you calm down from the craziness of life as you held onto him. Rocking back and forth slowly, you embraced the moment you had with Hyunjin. The calmness of the music, holding Hyunjin in your arms, the stillness of the outside world, all of it seemed to be magnificently perfect. The song soon ended with its final strike of a note, though you still held onto him a little longer, not wanting to let go. A yawn escaped your lips as you felt tired, eyes feeling dense.

 Hyunjin let go as he looked at you, “You sound tired. We should probably get to bed, kitten.” He suggested as he led you back to your bed.

 You were too tired to object him as you finally felt the softness of your bed, “I told you not to call me that.” You tiredly complained to him as you crawled under the sheets.

 “Well, that’s too bad. Cause you don’t have a say on what I can call you.” He joked as he fixed the sheets on you, helping you get comfortable.

 You could only respond with a grunt as your brain started to go into auto pilot. Your sheets slowly warming your body as you felt yourself disconnect with reality. You heard the faint noises of your chair being moved closer to you, and soon you felt a soft hand being placed on yours. You then felt lips being pressed delicately against your forehead. The bed sinking slightly near the edge, you could only assume that Hyunjin was staying with you in your room. The world went dead quiet as you slowly drifted out to the sea of void.

➵

You opened your eyes to see complete whiteness surrounding you. You looked around to see if anyone is around you, but there was no one. Suddenly, a thick smoke came out of nowhere as it engulfed you into an abyss of emptiness. Your heart began racing as you looked around frantically, yelling out into the nothingness, hoping that someone could hear you.

 “Someone! Please help me!” your voice became sore and dead.

 “Anyone! Save me, please!” still, no response.

 Your eyes became watery as you were starting to lose hope. Looking around once more, you saw something in the far distance. You started to run as fast as your legs could carry you, wanting out of this nightmare. The smoke wasn’t helping your vision as you ran faster with every step, almost falling over from running so fast. The figure soon started to look like a person as you ran closer to them. You soon realize who the person was. It was Hyunjin. Relief washed over you like a river as you approached him, out of breath.

 “Hyunjin! I thought I was all alone.” You said as you looked at him with a smile.

 You then noticed that it was Hyunjin, but it wasn’t really Hyunjin. Your smile soon faded as you saw a ghost of someone you knew. He looked grey and cold as you examined him. He was looking at the ground, not even noticing you were there. You roughly grabbed him by the shoulders and started to shake him.

 “What’s wrong with you?! Tell me!” you screamed at him, seeing that he was not okay.

 No response.

 “Hyunjin! Please tell me something! Anything!” you continued, your voice giving out.

 He slowly looked up from the ground. His eyes were dead, his body was hollow, his hair was unkept, his skin was pale, he didn’t seem like a person.

 “It’s all over, y/n. I’m leaving you. You mean nothing to me anymore. I’m done.” He spoke meaninglessly and flat with no emotion in his voice, “Goodbye.”

 You felt your heart sink to hear those words from him. Even if it wasn’t really Hyunjin. Those words. Those dreadful words that hurt you so badly to hear from anyone. You felt all alone. You were all alone. You felt him slip from your grasp as he walked away. You could only watch in pain as he vanished from sight. Your legs bolted to the ground; you couldn’t move anymore. You didn’t want to move anymore. You fell to the ground in agony as you screamed in pain, your throat raw, tears running down your face, completely and utterly turned into nothing. This was the end for you as the smoke covered you in fear. It was over. It was all over.

➵

You sat up in a heartbeat as you let out a scream. Dripping in a cold sweat, you frantically look around to see that you’re in your bedroom. Hyunjin’s head rose quickly to look at you with concern.

 “Hey, hey! Its okay. Its okay. You’re okay!” he started to tell you, “I’m right here. Don’t worry.” He said in a calm manner, trying to get you to do the same.

 You felt tears at the brink of falling as you looked at Hyunjin, remembering the nightmare. Tears started painting down your face as you felt getting flashbacks of what happened. Hyunjin quickly embraced you as he got on the bed and let you cry into him. He gently petted your head as you let it all out.

 “I – I had a nightmare… and-” you tried to explain to Hyunjin what happened, but you simply couldn’t, your words caught in your throat.

 He simply shook his head, “You don’t have to tell me. Just calm down. I’m right here.” he whispered.

 You calmed down some as you stayed silent in Hyunjin’s arms. Not knowing if you could ever tell him what happened. The city was alive and awake outside as your room stayed completely motionless. The silent tears falling reverberated against the walls as the fairy lights were a soft pale light. You breathed out quietly as you held onto Hyunjin, not ever wanting to let go of him.

➵

The cool breeze of night air whispered through the city. The dark void of the sky looked mesmerizing against the lit-up city. The stars above mimicking the lights down below, though faintly. Only a shade or two lighter portions of the sky was the last remnant where the sun went down over the horizon. You sat on the ledge of the apartment rooftop, legs dangling down as the view of the city was passing you by. These nights were your favorite because you got to disconnect from the bustling of life. These nights were becoming rare for you because you always had other things to do. These nights, you basked in the emotions you felt. You closed your eyes, listening to everything around you. The cars on the road, the people walking along the sidewalks, music playing in bars, the smell of food rising from the vents of restaurants, city life was never boring. You felt your phone vibrate in your pocket; you took it out as you saw the name on your screen. It was Hyunjin. You answered the phone, curious.

 “Hey. What’s going on?” you asked, looking around down at the city.

 “Oh, nothing much. I’m around the area and was wondering if you want to hang out again.” he sounded like he was in the streets because you heard talking in the background.

 You paused, looking around, “Sure. I’m on the roof of my apartment, so meet me there. The door should be opened, so just come in.”

 Hyunjin let out a laugh, “The roof? That seems dangerous for someone like you.” He teased.

 “Shut up, Jinnie. It’s perfectly okay.” You reassured him, “Unless you’re too much of a baby to come up here.” You challenged.

 Hyunjin scoffed, “I am not a baby!” he said defensively, “I’ll be over soon, kitten.” He hung up.

 You put your phone back in your pocket and waited for his arrival. You tried to tune into the quietness above the city, but to no prevail. The city was too loud for you to find the peacefulness you were searching for. The sound of footsteps approaching caused you to snap out of focus and quickly turn around to see that it was only Hyunjin. You loosened up a bit as he sat next to you, swinging his legs down beside yours. The silence between you and Hyunjin grew with each minute that passed.

 “Hey.” He finally spoke.

 “Hey.” You replied back, “So, what’s been going on with you today? I thought I heard some voices in the background when you called.” You asked as you looked at him.

 He gave out a light chuckle, “Oh, I was with my friends. We were all about to head back home, but I wanted to see you after we all left.” He explained, “They all were just loud and obnoxious if you ask me. They keep asking about you every time I call you.”

 You raised an eyebrow at him, “You talk about me around them?” you asked, “You better be saying good things about me!” you laughed as you lightly pushed him.

 “Of course, I do.” he laughed, “They actually want to meet you sometime. I only said yes if you were okay with it.” He gave you a hopeful smile.

 You thought about it, then smiled happily, “I’d love to meet them. I bet they’re as fun as you to be around.”

 Hyunjin rolled his eyes, “I guess fun could be a word to describe them.”

 You and Hyunjin let out a loud laugh together. Being around each other never use to be this strange, however, this night felt different. As the laughter died, you could only just look at him. The smile fading as you looked back out into the city.

 “Do you remember the day I had a nightmare?” you said suddenly, almost hauntingly as you remembered the events.

 He gave you a small nod, “Yeah. Why?” he asked, placing a hand on yours.

 “You were in my nightmare, and you told me that you didn’t want me anymore. That you were leaving me.” Your heart began to run out of your chest, “That I meant nothing to you. And you left saying goodbye.” Your eyes starting to tear up, remembering the scene vividly.

 You felt his head lean on your shoulder, “Y/n, I would never leave you. You know that, right? I would never say those things to you.” He spoke tenderly, trying to comfort you, his hand holding onto yours tightly.

 You could only nod, “Yeah. I know.” You whispered, “But it still hurt to hear it, especially from you.”

 “I know, but I want you to trust me that I would never say that to you. You mean way too much for me to say those things to you.” He spoke quietly as he continued to hold your hand.

 “What do I mean to you, then?” you asked, looking down at his puffy black hair.

 Hyunjin stayed silent, “You mean so much to me that words can’t truly tell you, kitten.” He confessed, “You mean everything to me.”

 Your eyes widened as you held onto his hands. His words echoing in your head, giving you butterflies in your stomach. You never thought that Hyunjin would say those cheesy things to you, but alas, here you are.

 “Thank you, Hyunjin. Really.” You smiled as you watched the cars pass by, completely ignorant to what is happening from above.

 A silent wave washed over you are you and Hyunjin watched the city moving along. You saw life passing you by, but it didn’t matter because you had Hyunjin beside you.

 “Jinnie. Have you ever thought about the future? What it’ll hold in store. How things will change.” You asked, a memory flowing back to when you had late night talks with a friend long ago.

 “Yeah, I have. Things are crazy nowadays.” He said, lifting his head from your shoulder.

 You chuckled lightly, “Crazy is an understatement. Life just seems to be passing me by lately. Like, I have no control over any of it anymore.” You explained all the things running through your head, “Sometimes I feel like I’m just floating down the river of life, just going through the motions. Some days I think I’m just missing out on things because I’ve been caught up with so much anymore.”

 “If you think that your life is passing you by, if you think that you’re missing out on things, I think you should just take a breath.” He spoke slowly, “I’ve been feeling it too recently. But I think if you feel like its all just passing you by, lets just do things. Do the things that scare us. Do the things that make life a little more pleasant.” He looked at you with a reassuring smile, “Besides, we’re in this together.”

 You smiled and laughed, “I guess so. Thanks for the advice.” You looked him in the eyes, “How is your family issue going?”

 “It’s still a problem right now. But in all honesty,” he looked out to the city, “I think its tolerable since I have you right beside me.”

 Your heart fluttered by those words as you smiled dumbly. He was such a flirt; it was almost stupid. You followed his gaze as you exhaled softly. Moments like these, you never want to let go. It was these moments that you cherished deeply. These were the moments that meant a lifetime to you. Though, there was something pulling at your heart to do.

 “Hey, Jinnie.” You asked as you faced him.

 He looked to you, “Yeah?”

 Your heart started to hurt, throat dry, words losing meaning, “I think I like you.” You confessed, heart beating so fast you thought you’d die, “Even if I haven’t known you for too long, I don’t think I could find anyone like you.”

 He simply stared at you, but then the unimaginable happened. You soon felt soft lips pressed against yours, it was sweet like honey but meaningful. You closed your eyes, reciprocating the feelings, words started becoming meaningless, the world slowly melting away. You pulled away, breathing lightly, looking at him with surprise.

 “I think I like you too, y/n.” he spoke with a smile.

 You laughed as you pushed him, “You could’ve told me that before you kissed me! You’re such a brat!” you yelled at him.

 Hyunjin only laughed, “Just be thankful that I like you. Otherwise I could’ve pushed you off right now!” he joked, looking down to the ground.

 “I would take you down with me then!” you pouted.

 He then smiled as he hugged you, “Yeah, sure. Okay.” He rolled his eyes.

 You grabbed his arm around you, “You’re awful, Jinnie.” you whined.

 He only gave a wide smile at you before he kissed your cheek. You blushed madly as you could only try to let him go of you.

 “Get off of me, Jinnie!” you complained.

 He shook his head, “No. Not until you apologize to me!”

 You sighed, “I’m sorry that you’re such a child compared to me!” you laughed as you insulted him.

 “I am not a child!” he hugged you tighter, “You’re the one who is a child!”

 You could only smile, “You’re so cute, Jinnie.” You soon felt him let go of you as you quickly gave him a peck on the cheek.

 Hyunjin took your hand in his and laced his fingers with yours as you looked out into the city. The world oblivious of what happened on the rooftop. Though, it didn’t matter to you. This is what life’s moments were to be filled with. Even if the world was to forget about you and Hyunjin, this moment was all that mattered. You smiled as you thought back to the memories you had with this boy. This handsome, problematic boy. It has been a while since you’ve felt this way about anyone, but you were happy it was him. You leaned your head onto his shoulder, locking your stare into the world below you. As you peered up into the sky, you saw the stars. They dimly twinkled as you saw them shine through the pollution of the life below. You melted into Hyunjin as you simply stayed in the moment. Everything was perfect. Through all the chaos of life, this was the moment you loved the most.

 “When the sun rises, will you still be here with me?”

 “Forever, my kitten.”

A/N:

 “The world is an insanely chaotic masterful beauty to behold. One day everything will be gone, the universe will carry on without us. The future will someday reminisce in our past, and hopefully smile thinking of us. Though, memories are who we are… and who’s to say we can’t try and live a better day.”

 Ahhhh! This is my first fanfic I’ve seriously written, and, in all honesty, it was really fun to write! Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing it~

 Lots of love ❤

[yukiwrites]

Twin Proposal

@spacesmilodon I CAN’T STOP GRINNING AKSJDLMASD

Summary: Vilkas and Farkas. Although they were twins, their personalities couldn’t be more different, down to the way how they expressed their affection to the ones they loved. Beffudled by Farkas’ spontaneous proposal, Vilkas feels even more pressured to ask for the Dragonborn’s hand...

Commission info HERE and HERE!

______________________________

Vilkas had always thought of himself as a man of unshakable will. He had stood against all sorts of creatures during his life as a warrior -- as a Companion. He felled giants with the same breath as he did the most cunning of vampires; he delved deep into Skyrim's oldest tombs only to emerge victorious, no matter what perils lurked within.

He prided himself in having a steady heartbeat and a cold eye to discern any and each situation he'd find himself in; no matter the challenge, he would stand tall and overcome it.

Yes, no matter the challenge.

Vilkas took a deep, shaky breath. Why was it that after an entire life of putting his life on the line, he felt his very own soul tremble upon the eyes of a simple khajiit merchant?! Don't you dare tremble; do not tremble you fool of a hand, he yelled at his own body as he reached for his coin purse.

The feline merchant smiled widely, her crooked teeth glistering in the sunset, making her distorted face even harder for Vilkas to ignore. "This one does not understand how you people of Skyrim court each other," she let out a hoarse laugh, though it only sounded like a snarl, as she slowly picked up the amulet Vilkas had chosen previously. "But it brings Ahkari profit, so Ahkari will keep selling."

"..." Vilkas simply scowled, using every ounce of pride he had in his body not to tremble, blush, or run away screaming as he exchanged the money for the Amulet of Mara.

"May your journeys lead you to warm sands," she nodded as she counted the money, licking her lips as she whispered, "or warm sheets," under her breath.

"... Thank you," missing the last bit of Ahkari's speech, Vilkas managed to regain part of his dignity as a person as quick as he shoved the Amulet of Mara into his item pouch. His shoulders lighter than a few moments previous, he finally managed to breathe out only to realize he had been holding his breath for the entire duration of the negotiation.

However, that feeling of relief was only temporary. Having the amulet in his possession was only the pre-requisite for the first step of a proposal, after all.

It wasn't as though he was devoid of a plan, no. Quite the opposite, in fact: he had drafted so many different situations which he could propose, his mind was flooded with dozens of scenarios and ideas. The Dragonborn was a woman worth all and any trouble -- one he would gladly fight alongside with until his heart beat the last -- so doing as much was only natural, if it meant to be with her for the rest of their days.

The problem lay on Vilkas, as expected. He simply did not know how he could give this massive step towards the change in their relationship! They were shield-siblings first and foremost, and although there was no rule forbidding romantic intercourse between Companions, the Dragonborn was so much more than that for Vilkas. She was a principled woman, bearer of one too many regrets in her life, just as Vilkas himself. They got along as kin, their shared worries and curses bringing them closer than any other shield-siblings have ever been. They shared a deep bond of friendship, trust and -- Vilkas wished most fervently for that to be true -- mutual love.

He could see in her eyes and subtle actions that they were of one mind in this regard -- it was but a question of who would give the first step to finally put a name to their more-than-shield-siblings relationship. And Vilkas wanted to be the one to do it.

But by the gods how hard it was!

He couldn't simply walk up to her, shove the amulet on her face and tell her they should marry! There had to be a proper place, a proper setting, a proper mood and a proper way to deliver his words. Everything had to come out in a satisfying way, otherwise it would be all for naught.

Absent-minded, Vilkas barely realized that he had not only returned to Jorrvaskr, but also sat beside his brother by the dining table, downing one of the fifteen mead bottles that were sprawled in front of Farkas.

Vilkas raised one eyebrow, blinking back into reality. "Fifteen-?" He heard his voice grumble, looking to his right to his brother. "Farkas, what is the meaning of this?"

The younger twin gurgled down his tenth bottle, slamming it on the table. "I just gotta." He replied in a weirdly serious tone. Since he was at the corner of the table, he needed but reach out to touch Rannah, a dark skinned altmer who had joined the ranks of the Companions a few months after the Dragonborn did. She and Aela conversed merrily, sharing their knowledge of hunting to any and all that would be unlucky enough to give them an ear to do so.

Narrowing his eyes, Vilkas observed his brother gaze longingly at the high elf -- it was no secret to the older twin that Farkas had been smitten with Rannah for a while. Smirking, Vilkas closed his eyes as he took a large sip of his mead, finding a sad solace in the fact that both brothers were suffering with love.

"Hey, Rannah," Farkas nudged the altmer's shoulder with one hand, pulling something out of his item pouch with the other.

Rannah turned to Farkas still wearing the smile she was sharing with Aela. "Yeah-oh?" She barely had time to react as Farkas put something around her neck.

An Amulet of Mara!

Vilkas choked.

"We get along well and I like that -- I like you. Wanna get married?" Farkas blurted everything out at once, sitting back after placing the amulet on Rannah.

Aela spat her half-chewed meat on Ria's face, who was sitting across her. The Dragonborn let out a soft gasp, covering her face with both hands.

"FUCK yes." Rannah didn't allow the silence to settle in, replying immediately. She climbed on the table to get to Farkas' lap, sitting on top of him and wrapping both arms around his neck.

"Let's not waste any time," Farkas snorted as he opened his mouth for the hungry kiss Rannah placed on him, his hands securely holding her behind so she wouldn't fall.

"Get a room, you two!" Aela guffawed, throwing an apple on Rannah's head. The fruit hit with a loud bonk, but it wasn’t enough to pluck the altmer's lips from Farkas'.

Coughing, Vilkas could very well be dead right there and then. He sputtered, the now happy (?!) couple blatantly making out inches from where he sat. Embarrassed and mortified, Vilkas looked from them to the cheering crowd the dining table had become, locking eyes with the Dragonborn, who also numbered amongst those who clapped and whistled.

Though when their eyes met, she, too, glanced at the couple before looking back at Vilkas, a smile sprouting on her lips as her cheeks reddened.

A thousand different thoughts sprouted in his mind as consequence to the Dragonborn's adorable reaction. Widening his eyes, the older twin felt the weight of the Amulet of Mara by his own belt, his breathing somehow distorting itself.

"We don't need to wait for the ceremony to consummate our vows, do we?" Rannah huffed in between the kisses she and Farkas shared, licking his lips lavisciously.

"Nah," Farkas gurgled a laugh as he lifted Rannah with both hands, taking her in his arms.

Any bubbling in Vilkas' chest was absolutely crushed with all that public display of affection. He groaned loudly. "Go to your room, for pity's sake! We don't need a display of- of THIS in the middle of dinner." He shoved Farkas's shoulder just as the younger twin was shuffling himself in his feet, intent on doing just that.

"No need to tell me twice, brother." Farkas smirked widely as Rannah barely allowed his mouth to be freed of hers.

"Don't let us see your ugly mugs 'till morning, you hear?!" Aela whistled, throwing another apple just for the sake of it, snorting loudly when Rannah caught it just as it was about to hit Farkas' head.

The two of them disappeared under the stairs leading to the dorms, under no shortage of cheering and booing.

"Ugh..." Vilkas dragged both hands across his face, suddenly a hundred times more exhausted than a few minutes ago. "I apologize for this crude display my brother just did." He could barely look into his shield-siblings' eyes, the shame so great he could only see them as blurs lest he self-combusted.

"Are you kidding? This was the funniest thing I've seen in my life." Aela snorted as she downed her mead. "Let us make a toast! For the happy couple." She raised her half-empty mug, being followed by every other hand that had been clapping previously. "Cheers." She said in a mocking tone, locking eyes with Vilkas. "I don't think you should go back to your room any time soon, Brother. Unless you want to find out exactly how they're going to 'consummate' their vows, ha!"

"Ughhh..." Vilkas once again threw his head back in disgust, groaning loudly. "No need to remind me of that, Aela." He got on his feet, taking the bottle he had been drinking from. "I'll be outside."

Walking at slow steps, Vilkas sat beside the shooting targets to force himself to meditate, or at least to take his mind off of the entire mess his own brother had made for Vilkas' marriage plans.

Farkas wasn't the one to blame, of course, but Vilkas had to blame something! Ugh, he felt terrible.

A familiar set of muffled steps followed Vilkas' path towards the targets, quietly sitting beside him as she engulfed the air with her lovely smell.

The Dragonborn. Vilkas pursed his lips, forcing himself now more than ever to keep his eyes closed.

She sipped her mead, the heat of her body warming his side even though they weren't even touching each other. Vilkas sighed deeply, his entire body deflating.

Taking that as her cue, the Dragonborn bobbed her head to the sides. "That was something I'll never forget."

Vilkas growled a bit inside, as though he still had the blood of a wolf in his veins. The Dragonborn found that endearing each time it happened, though she'd never mention it to him. "I did not know I could be amazed with Farkas after so many years, yet here I am." He groaned. "Don't worry, I'd never do such shameful display."

"Oh-ho?" The Dragonborn snorted, nudging his shoulder with hers. "Why are you assuring me of that, specifically?"

Vilkas cleared his throat, the embarrassment making him finally snap his eyes open. "N-no reason in particular; I am simply setting myself apart from my brother."

"Uh-huh..." The Dragonborn sneakily rested her head on Vilkas' shoulder, leaning her weight on him. "I’m well aware of that, though."

"Good." Vilkas relaxed his position, though not to the point of leaning on her -- they still weren't wed, after all! "... good." He said with a smile in his voice, which made the Dragonborn chuckle as well.

The next morning, barely one hour before dawn, Vilkas went back to his quarters after spending the night simply idle talking with the Dragonborn, appreciating the beauty of the moon, the stars and her fiery hair bathed in their light.

He had to ask her! As soon as possible! He could barely contain his own desire of simply embracing her within his arms and allowing her scent to take all of him!

"Farkas," Vilkas knocked on his brother's door. "Surely you are awake by now, come out." He called, though in a small voice for he didn't want to wake Rannah up.

A surprised 'oh,' a shuffling of bed sheets and a tumbling later, Farkas opened the door wearing nothing but the Amulet of Mara he had given Rannah the day before. "What?"

Vilkas cursed under his breath, looking up and away from his brother's jewels. "For- for the gods' sake, put something on!" 

"Oh, wait a second." Farkas gasped and laughed at his own nudity, not realizing it until Vilkas pointed out. "I'm sure I left my pants around here..." He whispered as he left the door ajar to look. "You don't wanna come in- oh wait, nah, I better go out;" he mused for half a second as he put on a random pair of trousers he found lying on a chair. "She's still nake-"

Vilkas groaned for the thousandth time that week, dragging himself to his room. "Come here instead, Farkas, lest I lose my mind."

Tilting his head to the side, Farkas followed after closing the door to his own room behind him. He sat on a chair beside Vilkas' door, helping himself to a day-old mead that had been left there by the older twin before he went to the khajiit caravan.

Vilkas sat heavily on the bed, visibly tired, though hardly due to lack of sleep. "Think of your health, brother. Don't drink this early in the morning."

Farkas was midway to downing the mead entirely, guiltily looking at Vilkas after placing the empty bottle back on the table. "I needed to recharge after last night-" he started, smirking.

"Yes, yes -- this is precisely why I called. How could you- how did you even do such an important thing as proposing so- like that?! Without even thinking things through? What about her feelings from being proposed to at such a public place-"

Farkas leaned on the backrest, sprawling himself with a confused frown. "I'm not really good at thinking ahead like this. I just followed my feelings -- I bought the amulet, drank a bit to be better at wording and asked her."

Vilkas facepalmed with both hands, digging his fingers on his own flesh. "What if she had refused you, then? Everyone would-"

"I'd drink more and move on." Farkas shrugged. "I'm happy she said yes, though; I think I'd need to drink every day for the rest of my life to be able to move on if she had said no."

"How can you accept this so readily-" Vilkas clutched his own chest as though directing the questions to himself. "There has to have a better way for these things."

"I'm married now, aren't I?" Farkas smiled widely, making Vilkas' shoulders sag. His little brother was so happy! Even though things happened so... crudely, it all fit him and his wife perfectly. "We're gonna get ready to go to Riften later, so I guess we won't be seeing each other in a month or two, brother."

"Oh," Vilkas blinked in surprise. "Do you not want me to go along for the ceremony? I feel that I should witness it, as your brother..."

"Nah," Farkas got up, the very air around him a bit lighter. "We wanna get to... know each other during the trip, like Rannah said." He laughed, forcing Vilkas to groan once again.

"Very well, then, little brother." The older twin got up, patting the younger on the back. "May your marriage be blessed by Mara and the Divines. Congratulations."

"Thanks." Farkas patted Vilkas' hand on his shoulder before retreating back to his own room, leaving Vilkas alone with his thoughts.

"Just follow your feelings, huh..." The older twin digested the words for a bit, his eyes looking around the room as though looking for clues. He saw the key to Whiterun's guard tower and something clicked on him. "That's it...!"

Vilkas busied himself during the day by going in and out of the guard barracks -- making a deal or another to be able to use the southern guard tower unhindered for one night; then making a trip or two to the market in search of high-quality ingredients for dinner and the best wine he could find for sale at the khajiit caravan.

Everything was going to be perfect and he was following his heart! Two birds with one stone!

The Dragonborn raised one eyebrow once Vilkas called her to help him with a guard shift at the tower, wondering -- with a smirk -- why he sounded so happy about a random watch duty like that.

Night had covered Skyrim like a cold blanket, forcing the two of them to wear their thick cloaks as they went up the stairs in silence, the only sound between them one of the crackling fire from the torch Vilkas carried.

Feeling his heart rising up to his throat, Vilkas gulped as they reached the uppermost room -- the one with the best view of the city as well as of the aurora in the sky -- nervously opening the door to reveal the carefully arranged dinner table for two.

The former thief pressed her lips into a thin line to hide her smirk so she could play dumb. "Vilkas?" She sat on the chair he had pulled for her, biting her lower lip in anticipation.

"I- cannot say I was inspired by my brother since I had this in my possession since yesterday morning-" He tried to pull something from his item pouch, but it got stuck just as he was taking the knee.

"’This’?" The Dragonborn tilted her head to the side, almost giving into the urge to laugh.

Vilkas cursed under his breath, pulling the amulet with a little too much force, his heart beating so fast he was barely thinking straight -- if his plan didn't go exactly as he had devised, he had nothing! What was he going to say next? Where is this thing stuck on, anyway? He had already KNELT! He just needed to pull a bit-

A thin snapping sound filled the air, followed by dozens of beads rolling around the floor. "The amulet-" Vilkas froze, watching the Amulet of Mara roll around in all directions, his hands helplessly trying to keep it all in one place.

"Pffft! Hahaha!" The Dragonborn snorted loudly, dissolving into laughter. "Oh no, this is so cute! I'm- ahaha! Pffbht... I-I'm-"

"D-don't laugh!" Vilkas hissed pitifully, using all of his concentration to look for the missing beads. The Dragonborn knelt in front of him, gathering as many beads as she could, her laughter never stopping.

"I-I'm sorry, b-but this is so- so adorable! Hrrk! Pffft!" She snorted, found the sound funny and went back to laughing, placing some beads in Vilkas' pitiful, open hand.

"What a disaster..." The older twin's back slumped on itself, the amulet now an amalgamation of random tiny objects. Before he could even wallow in self-pity, the Dragonborn placed her hand over his, covering the amulet.

Sniffling from laughing so much, she pressed her forehead on his. "Is it, really? I think this couldn't have been a better proposal." She looked at him with a genuine smile, dissolving his frown. "And my answer is yes! We don't need an amulet to get married, anyway; it's what it represents that matters." She clutched her hand in his, some beads escaping through their hold. "And I can feel it all, from the lame excuse to get to this secluded location to how you nervously have been trying to come up with ideas for the past few weeks."

Vilkas widened his eyes in surprise, but then exhaled in resignation. "So it was that obvious."

"A little," she giggled, kissing his cheek. "Won't you ask me properly even though I already gave my answer?"

"Of course," Vilkas put whatever was left of the amulet back in his pouch so he could pull her to him, finally able to let their bodies share the same warmth. "Will you marry me, my- my love? I've been waiting to ask for so long."

"Mhm," she nudged her nose on his, closing her eyes to feel his breath on her lips. "I will, my wolf. I love you." She nipped at his lower lip, enticing him to initiate the kiss, which he did with pleasure.

“I love you as well, my love.” Vilkas felt his entire body relaxing as their tongues acquainted themselves, her taste so much better than he had ever imagined! Ahh, to have her inside his arms, at last!

It was worth the humiliation. It was worth the wait.

Now that he had her in his arms like this, he knew that he would do it all over again if only it meant to kiss her again, again and again until dawn broke.

They would still actually need to do their guard duty since that was what Vilkas had promised the chief guard, but he could mention it to her a bit later. Just one more kiss...