#then when I notice the light splitting and pay more attention it blends back together

[spewpurr]

ophthalmologist tumblr what kind of fucking astigmatism turns an LED light into miserable demon eyes

[seokoloqy]

The Ravenheart Manor

➳ PAIRING(s): ot7 x reader

➳ GENRE: smut, pwp, mythical creature!au

➳ WORD COUNT: 4.1K

➳ WARNINGS: aphrodisiacs, suggestive content, more warnings will be added in each chapter

➳ SUMMARY: you’re the new maid at the Ravenheart Manor. Take your chance with each of its peculiar residents (hey, does that one have a tail?) after accidentally ingesting a powerful aphrodisiac that might just kill you if you don’t give in to your burning desires.

➳ A/N: at the end of the story it will be split off into seven different parts. Each of them dedicated to a different member they don’t have to be read in order and they are not connected. Enjoy your descent into monster fucker hell~

—

Rain pours all around you and it only seems to grow stronger the longer you wait at the looming door. You had rapped your knuckles against the ornate door twice now, but the manor is so large you doubt anyone would have heard unless they were lingering next to the door.

Your fingers begin to feel numb when the howling winds pick up. You raise your hand again to knock with all your strength, hoping someone will answer before you freeze.

Before your hand hits the door for the third time, the doors pull open and you’re greeted by a man in a waistcoat. His dark hair contrasts with his pale skin. He scans you slowly, eyes drifting down your shivering body, pretending not to notice how your clothes stick to your curves. He makes a small sound of approval before meeting your eyes.

To you, he seems normal, but that would be completely incorrect. When you took this job, you knew it’d be at your own risk. It pays so well you don’t even care about the dangers you potentially face.

“You must be the new help,” he says, pulling the door open wider. You get a glimpse of the inside and the grand decor. “Welcome to the Ravenheart Manor. I’m Yoongi, the butler. I’ll be helping you adjust to life here.”

You lift your suitcase and cross the threshold, taking in your surroundings. Yoongi reaches for your suitcase. When your hands touch briefly, you feel colder than before. You would have dropped your entire suitcase if he hadn’t grabbed it.

Yoongi isn’t phased, instead, he moves along, deeper into the heart of the manor. You force yourself to shake it off and follow him. You might as well get used to this. There’s certainly more encounters like this to come.

“I believe you’ve already been informed of this, but the residents here, including myself, aren’t exactly human. I would like to preface that before you meet them.”

“Yes, I’ve been told.”

You only know that they’re each different creatures, but you’re not entirely sure what. You can’t even tell what Yoongi is yet, but judging by his dark aura, he’s nothing to be messed with.

“May I ask what you are?”

He grins as if he were waiting for you to ask, but doesn’t turn around to meet your gaze. “A demon. If you’re not careful I could steal away your soul and your face. So I suggest not messing up.”

Although his tone is playful, you doubt he’s joking.

—

In the dining area, two men lounge in chairs across from each other, neither of them eating. One has his feet up on the white linen; his mud-coated boots stain the fabric. A toothpick rests between his lips and his eyes travel the pages of a worn book. The other nurses a cup of dark liquid that he seems mesmerized in, watching his tired reflection stare back at him. The room smells of coffee and you assume that’s what he’s drinking, despite the clock ticking close to midnight.

The ambient candle lighting is warm, casting a soft glow over the room. With the rain battering against the window it creates a cozy atmosphere, and for a brief moment, it’s almost a place you’d call home.

Yoongi clears his throat and both men call their attention towards you and you’re suddenly reminded of the dangers beneath this roof.

The man with his feet on the table grins, his canines peeking beneath his upper lip, plucking the toothpick from his mouth and shutting his novel with a loud slam that startles the other man out of his daze. “A toy? You love to spoil us, don’t you, Yoongi?”

“She’s not your toy, master Taehyung,” Yoongi says, eyes narrowing slightly at Taehyung’s shoes muddying up the table. “This is ___ and as of today she will be assisting me with chores around the manor.”

“That doesn’t mean I can’t play around with her,” Taehyung pouts, “Jungkook, doesn’t she look like fun?”

Jungkook meets your eyes and immediately flushes, turning back to stare into his black coffee. “I don’t know,” he mutters, curling into himself like he wants to disappear.

Taehyung laughs, rich and melodious laughter, throwing his head back against his chair, “don’t mind him. All baku are shy things. It’s cute—don’t you agree, ___?”

At that, Jungkook dips his head lower, dark hair sweeping over his eyes as he tries hiding his embarrassment.

You don’t want to turn Jungkook any more red than he already is. You ignore Taehyung’s question and regard both men with a thin smile and a polite bow. “Hello, I’m eager to begin working here.”

Taehyung swings his boots off the counter—much to Yoongi’s relief—and leans forward with his elbow resting on the table and chin propped in his hands. His tongue wets his lower lip like a starving wolf.

“Will you call me master as well, ___?” Taehyung queries, popping his toothpick back in his mouth with a sly grin.

Your heart hammers at his charming smile.

“If you wish.”

“I’d love nothing more, my dear.”

You take a deep breath through your nose, unsure of your next words.

“Well then, master, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Taehyung’s smile drops and for a second you can see the predatory gaze in his eyes that tells you he craves to pounce on you. Maybe if Yoongi and a Jungkook weren’t in the room, he would. Maybe he’d have you pressed against the wall before you could say anything more and devour you completely. His voice is lower when he speaks again, any trace of his teasing attitude gone. “I think we’ll have a lot of fun together, my dear.”

—

“This room is the bathing area. You’ll be sharing it with the rest of the residents here. There is a scheduled amount of time for you to bathe alone, however. So don’t worry about anyone barging in on you.” Yoongi says, opening the door, releasing a thick cloud of steam. Upon entering, you notice the large bath in the center with two shadowy figures in the fog.

“You get off on making me angry, don’t you?” The hiss comes from the steam. “I said, don’t touch my things!”

“It’s just soap, Hobi. Relax before you pull something.”

Before you can turn away after the fog clears, you’re met with two men at the bath. One is submerged in the water with his arms crossed over the ledge and the other stands over him with a towel wrapped around his waist.

The one not in the bath has a scowl on his face, but more importantly, two leathery white and blue wings protruding from his back and a large sweeping tail matching in color tucked under his towel.

“Touch my things again and I’ll tie you up in the sun till you shrivel,” the one with the tail threatens.

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“Ahem,” Yoongi clears his throat. “Masters, may I introduce our newest guest?”

You almost gawk at Yoongi for thinking now, when there are two men practically naked and arguing, is an appropriate time to introduce you. But then again, he is a demon. He must not have any qualms over things that you’d normally find inappropriate. He is the embodiment of sin, after all.

The one in the bath is the first to look at you. He gasps, pushing himself up from the water. Instead of seeing him completely naked, his waist blends into iridescent smooth scales. A shimmering tail flicks behind him, splashing water over the edge of the bath.

“I had no idea she’d be so cute! Say, care to join me for a bath, dear?”

Saving you from the embarrassing stutters that would’ve left your mouth, Yoongi interrupts, “there’s no time for that tonight, master Jimin. I’m sure ___ is tired from her trip here and would like to get to bed as soon as this tour is over.”

You hold in your sigh of relief.

Jimin pouts, dropping his arms back into the water with a splash. “Alright. Maybe next time.” The disappointment is marred on his beautiful face.

“Why’d you have to bring a human into the manor, Yoongi?” The second man says.

“I think she is very qualified for the job, master Hoseok.”

“Tch,” Hoseok scoffs. “She won’t last here.”

—

The crackling fireplace warms your rain-soaked body. Worn books line the walls in this next room. Yoongi guides you deeper into the library where there are two men sitting in chairs across from one another, pondering over a chessboard.

“This is very boring, Namjoon,” the blonde one huffs, propping his elbow on the table to cradle his chin. He looks out the looming window at the drops of rain battering against the window with a sigh. “Nothing like celestial games.”

The man opposite him gives a similar sigh as his hand hovers over a pawn, contemplating his next move carefully, “Seokjin, it’s been over a century since you were cast out. When will you stop comparing everything to the celestial realm?”

“When my Father gives me my true wings back.”

“So never,” Namjoon says matter factly, pushing his dark-rimmed glasses up the bridge of his nose. He pulls his hand back and scans over all his pieces on the board with furrowed brows.

“Masters,” Yoongi calls. “Please meet our newest maid.”

Seokjin turns from the window and nearly grimaces at Yoongi, but as his eyes travel to you they light up, absolutely delighted to see you.

“Hello! Come join us!” Seokjin says, “would you like to play for me?”

He’d like to get out of playing chess anyway he can. He’s already halfway across the room to greet you before you can speak.

“Hello, I’m ___,” you greet politely, placing your hand in Seokjin’s outstretched one. He’s warm, unlike Yoongi. You already feel so much more comfortable just being near him. Namjoon said something about heaven and you assume he must have been an angel.

You become frozen when Seokjin brings your knuckles to meet his lips in a tender kiss.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, ___.”

“The theatrics are unnecessary.” Namjoon gives a tired sigh from his chair, still intent on the board before finally moving his piece. After he’s satisfied with the move, he rises from the chair and strides across the room with confidence. When he stops, looming before you, he stares down at you with dangerous maroon eyes. “I’m Namjoon, owner of the Ravenheart Manor. I hope you do not disappoint me.”

—

It’s been about a month since you started working at this manor. You’ve gotten to know a little bit more about each of the residents, but only surface-level things.

You know that Namjoon is half vampire, half werewolf but doesn’t care to speak of his werewolf side. He sometimes disappears into the garden in the middle of the night. You can see him strolling around and disappearing behind hedges from your window. You’ve never been down there because Yoongi has you working dusk to dawn scrubbing down the manor or doing laundry until you can hardly move once your head hits the pillow.

Seokjin is a fallen angel who was cast out centuries ago, but can’t seem to stop reminiscing about his time there. You enjoy being around him the most. He always puts you at ease and is the only one who occasionally helps you with chores. He’ll help you sweep the floors and tell stories of Heaven that always captivate you.

Yoongi is a demon who seems to take a great amount of joy in bossing you around on your hands and knees. Every morning, just before the sun is over the horizon, he’s hovering over you with endless amounts of chores to do and a new list of your flaws and how you can do better.

Hoseok is a dragon and it seems like he just doesn’t like you at all. The subtle glare he gives you whenever you walk into a room makes you want to exit immediately. He likes to keep to himself in his room most of the day and away from the other residents. No one gets to go into his room at all because he locks the door. You’re not sure what he’s hiding in there.

Jimin is a siren who endlessly flirts with you about getting into the bath with him. You’ve heard the stories of sirens seducing their prey just to drown and eat them so you avoid being near the baths whenever he’s in, but it seems like he’s always in the bath. Sometimes you catch yourself being tempted by his sweet voice whenever he offers.

Taehyung is a kumiho that loves to tease and pull you onto his lap while he reads a book just to watch you grow flustered. You always find yourself thrown onto his lap whenever he’s nearby. He loves having you curled against him, one arm securely around your waist and the other with a book open on your lap.

Jungkook is a baku. He’s easily flustered by you, turning red easily whenever you’re around. He’s so quiet; sometimes you don’t even notice his presence in a room until someone acknowledges him.

You sigh as you pour a glass of blood for Namjoon in his usual tall glass. You spent the whole day dusting the library and pulling yourself from Taehyung’s affectionate grasp most of the time.

“Uh-”

Another voice entering the kitchen disrupts your futile attempts at relaxing. Caught off guard, you accidentally let out a yelp, nearly tipping out the entire pitcher of blood. Consequently, your help causes the intruder to jump as well.

“Sorry!” He says.

You turn around to find Jungkook shrinking away under the door frame and not some hungry monster you didn’t know inhabited the manor.

“What are you doing here?” you breathe a sigh of relief. Out of all the residents in this house, Jungkook is the least of your worries. Actually, you doubt he’s even capable of hurting anything with how timid he is.

“Do you need more coffee?” You gesture towards the empty mug clutched in his hand.

He nods, extending his cup towards you. His arm strains to hand the cup to you from the distance he’s put between you two.

By now, you’re not surprised he’s here asking for more caffeine at night. His unusual sleeping schedule (not that he ever sleeps), along with a filled cup of black coffee always clinging to his side, keeps him up all through the night. You’ve never questioned his obsession with coffee and the habit of staying up. You don’t know much about baku, but there probably is a good explanation for it.

“Um,” he mumbles, scratching the back of his neck, “You seem… stressed?”

“A little,” you admit, moving to take the coffee pitcher off the heat.

“Oh,” he trails off, not knowing what else to say. You can see the cogs turning in his head as he attempts to think of something to say or do. “Maybe something to drink will help?”

You laugh, “I don’t think coffee is going to help me relax, especially at night.”

Jungkook flushes, averting his gaze towards the cupboards. “Th-That’s not what I meant.”

He shuffles over to the cupboard and opens a panel to reveal where the liquor is kept. He grabs one of the bottles off the top shelf—an opaque rose-colored glass with a wide rounded bottom and long neck.

“Here. Jimin always drinks this whenever he’s stressed and brags about how it can make anyone feel good,” he extends the bottle towards you, “maybe this’ll help.”

You haven’t had a good drink since coming to the manor. Even with Yoongi’s voice in the back of your head nagging about how a good maid wouldn’t drink on the job and how he’d be disappointed by your actions, you find yourself reaching for the bottle.

You take the bottle from Jungkook, who surprisingly doesn’t flinch when you accidentally brush fingertips, but you can see the familiar pink flush across his cheeks.

“One or two drinks won’t hurt.”

—

You drank a few shots of the oddly sweet liquor before dinner could begin. It filled you with a pleasant warmth that ran through your entire body. True to Jungkook’s word, it did help you relax—maybe a little too much.

Now you’re sitting at the dinner table surrounded by all seven of the residents. Yoongi is hovering behind Jungkook, refilling another cup of coffee, still working to serve his masters. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him eat.

Tonight is a mandatory dinner where you all sit down and have dinner at one table. Usually, the residents have separate meals at separate times in their own rooms or wherever they can find prey—willing, submissive volunteers, as Jimin likes to call them—but Namjoon made it a rule to have dinner together at least once a week to help you find normalcy and feel more comfortable living with a group of supernatural creatures.

You absentmindedly poke at your meal while your stomach churns. You’re not in pain—far from it actually. The all too familiar heat between your legs has you slowly sliding your legs together underneath the table to ease the tension. The throbbing is subtle but it’s there, rendering you unable to focus on anything else but that need.

“Not hungry?” Namjoon asks you, dabbing blood off the corner of his lip with a white cloth.

You glance toward the head of the table where Namjoon sits back in his chair watching with sapphire eyes as your hand swirls around a spoon. You tense under his gaze, which is entirely devoid of emotions when it travels back to your face.

The month that you’ve been in this manor you’ve picked up on some things about its peculiar residents.

This always seemed to be Namjoon’s demeanor—composed and seemingly one step ahead of everyone else. Namjoon is always eerily calm even when he should be livid. It only makes him more intimidating to you.

You’ve always wondered what goes on in his head. Maintaining a mansion full of different mythical creatures must be tough on him, and if it is, he doesn’t let it show.

In the corner of your eye, you see Yoongi cradling the pitcher of coffee behind Jungkook. His silent stare is a warning. ‘Don’t let the masters know you’re struggling. Maintain your composure or be punished.’

Working closely with Yoongi has taught you a few things about him too. He hates upsetting his masters and if you mess a single thing up, one of two things can happen. He’ll begin to lecture you about not being an adequate maid or he’ll stay silent and watch you until you crumble and apologize.

His silence is what you’re most afraid of. You’ve never seen what he looks like as a demon; but when he’s upset with you, a cloud of thick dark smoke rises from his body. If you ever do get to see his real demon form, you’re positive punishment would be laid out for you.

And that’s how he looks at you now—silently.

“Nothing’s wrong,” you lie. Even without Yoongi’s warning eyes, you wouldn’t want them to know about the embarrassing need between your legs anyway. Though you’re sure Jimin or Taehyung wouldn’t mind jumping at the chance to help you. They’re always eager to touch you and keep you close to their sides. Their hands roaming your body doesn’t seem like such a bad idea right now though.

All chatter halts as all the men turn their curious eyes towards you, all of a sudden very interested in your loss of appetite. Seokjin even soothingly rubs your back with one hand and you can’t help but melt at his touch. It’s not uncommon for the former angel to give you a hug or a head pat when you’re feeling down, but this time his hands on you feel different.

It’s like his hand sends tingles throughout your body, more importantly between your legs, as it rubs warm and soothing circles on your back. His hands between your legs are all you can think of—the heavenly angel, sinning between your thighs. His lips, his tongue on you, licking up your arousal like it’s the sweetest ambrosia.

“If you’re not feeling well you should rest,” Seokjin says, moving his hand to your forehead to check your temperature.

Once his hand makes contact with your bare skin, you bite your lip at how warm his hand feels against you and you just want more of his touch. You want to feel all of him against you.

He flinches back once he touches your skin and his face scrunches up in worry. “Oh my, you’re burning up.”

“You’ve been working her too hard, Yoongi,” Taehyung says. He’s sitting on you’re right and leans in closer to inspect your heated face. His hand subtly slides onto your thigh and you immediately move your hand over his to make sure he doesn’t move it. He looks shocked by your unusually bold move. Normally, you play coy and pretend that you don’t like his sly advances and push him away.

“I only give her as much as she can handle, master.”

You let out an accidental whimper. Why did that sound so much more sexual than it was? The idea of Yoongi’s punishments has a different ring to you now. If you were to disobey Yoongi would he bend you over his lap and make you beg for forgiveness?

Your grip tightens around Taehyung’s hand.

The rest of the table looks at you wide-eyed, a few gaping, mainly Jungkook who looks ready to disappear into his chair.

“What the hell was that?” Hoseok blurts, averting his gaze from your heated one.

“You sound like me after a sip of my aphrodisiac,” Jimin giggles to which Jungkook pales.

“W-What?” he stutters, a panicked expression settling on his face.

Namjoon puts down his glass, licking the drop of blood on the corner of his lip.

Jungkook shifts uncomfortably, an action not unnoticed by Namjoon’s sharp eye.

“Speak,“ Namjoon says, shooting a sharp glare towards Jungkook, causing him to press himself further into his chair. "If you know what’s the matter, then speak, Jungkook.”

At the sound of his name, Jungkook almost yelps, anxious to admit his mistake. He ducks his head down and fiddles with his hands in his lap.

"I-I think I accidentally let her drink some of Jimin’s aphrodisiac,” he mutters underneath his breath, voice trailing off near the end. The atmosphere surrounding the table goes silent for a moment. Namjoon simply stares at Jungkook with silent anger. Jungkook avoids eye contact with the entire table, especially you.

“You!” Jimin laughs aloud, interrupting the silence, and points his finger towards Jungkook, hardly getting a word past his laughter. “You gave her my aphrodisiac?! What were you trying to do, Jungkook? Get her into bed with you?”

“No! No, I swear!” Jungkook cries, sounding more and more helpless and meak, “I-I didn’t mean to! I was only trying to help! S-She said she was stressed!”

Namjoon puts his elbows on the table and rubs his temples. A groan escapes him. “How much did you drink, ___?”

You don’t trust your voice to speak without sounding breathless and needy. “A little,” you respond weakly.

“And how much is a little?” he repeats this time the question is aimed towards Jungkook.

“One…eh, m-maybe four shots?”

Yoongi looks disappointed in you, but you don’t really seem to mind. Your thoughts are still on the kinds of punishment Yoongi’s hands could give you. “What am I going to do with you?” He tsks.

“Don’t worry; the potion should wear off in a couple of hours or so. If you need any help with those urges feel free to knock on my door.” Jimin winks from across the table. Given your state, you wouldn’t mind taking him up on that offer. You’ve often walked by and heard the sounds his ‘guests’ make in his bedroom all night long. His very skilled hands stroking your body, the sweet lull of a siren’s song singing in your ears as he-

“The aphrodisiac potion may wear off in a couple of hours for us but the same can’t be said for humans. ___ should be monitored in case this potion turns out to have more negative consequences than expected.” He turns toward you. “To make you more comfortable I’ll let you choose who you’d like to watch over you.”

WHO WOULD YOU LIKE TO CHOOSE?

Seokjin - angel | coming soon

Namjoon - werewolf/vampire hybrid | coming soon

Yoongi - demon

Hoseok - dragon | coming soon

Jimin - siren | coming soon

Taehyung - kumiho | coming soon

Jungkook - baku | coming soon

[deprecavi]

Following Aether up the path toward the Dawn Winery, Kaeya couldn’t help wondering how the blonde had convinced his brother to allow use of the property for a game that involved people running about with little concern for their surroundings. It was well past nightfall as well, indicating Diluc would likely not be around, considering his usual nighttime activities. Aether’s power of persuasion was indeed formidable. Kaeya was not surprised to see Zhongli had also agreed to another round, the other man giving him a small nod of greeting as he, Eula, and Aether joined him. The fourth player was nowhere in sight, but Aether went inside for a moment and returned with Diluc, much to Kaeya’s surprise. Maybe Diluc’s stipulation for use of the winery grounds was that he would be a player and supervise the event. 

“It seems we will be on the same team after all,” Kaeya commented to Zhongli as Aether instructed Diluc on the expectations of a hunter. “I hope you’ll do a bit better hiding than you did in Springvale, hm? You too Eula,” he added, nudging his fellow captain with his elbow. She rolled her eyes at him but gave him a small smirk of challenge. Zhongli also smiled and nodded. Kaeya observed the vineyard, noting the numerous barrels scattered among the grapevines as potential hiding places. 

Aether had also come up with something new for this round, similar to the invisibility token but without the limited application. It would allow them to, for all intents and purposes, appear as one of the lanterns Diluc had around the winery. Kaeya was looking forward to testing that one out and was already considering potential hiding places, though as he glanced up at the sky he realized the illusionary lantern’s light would potentially give them away with how late it was.

Satisfied that Diluc was ready, Aether climbed into a good vantage point and signaled for the rebels to head into the field to hide. The trio split up, all heading in different directions. Kaeya rounded the manor, ignoring Moco and Hillie trying to catch his attention, though he made a mental note to see what they needed after the game. Activating the lantern token, Kaeya wished he had a mirror to see the effect as he scaled the side of the building and positioned himself in front of one of the lit windows to blend in with the lights from inside the manor. He realized almost immediately that if he had to hang here for the entire duration of the game, his fingers were going to cramp, but he carefully balanced on the window ledge anyway.

He heard Aether give the signal for Diluc to start the hunt and saw his brother making methodical checks of the low perimeter wall around the winery, verifying that each lantern was in fact a true lantern. He went right under Kaeya without noticing him, absorbed in his task. Neither Eula or Zhongli were in the area of the wall either, as Kaeya didn’t hear any announcements for them getting captured even when Diluc was out of sight. Diluc was back on this side of the building again, now checking with the sensor Aether had given him. It pinged under Kaeya and Diluc looked around in confusion. 

“Is this thing broken?” he heard Diluc muttering, shaking the device once and trying it again, prompting another ping. Kaeya suppressed the urge to laugh as Diluc looked under the tables and around the barrels, never once looking up at the window or walls. A third ping with no discernable rebel made Diluc stuff the sensor in his pocket in annoyance and head out into the vineyard. Kaeya’s fingers were indeed starting to cramp now, but he stayed put. If Diluc never looked up, he’d never notice Kaeya.

Aether announced the arrival of the usual favor and Kaeya saw Diluc change directions out in the vineyard and go for it. A beam of light marked Kaeya seconds later and he swore under his breath, dropping from the window immediately and releasing the guise of a lantern in preparation to run. Of course his brother would target him specifically. Diluc rounded the corner of the building, victory in his eyes as he came toward Kaeya, who took off at a dead sprint, leaping the low stone wall into the vineyard. 

“Kaeya, if you crush my grapes I will fucking kill you,” he heard Diluc holler after him, but he didn’t waste the breath on a reply, hurdling two rows and dashing up a third, the irritating light above his head still giving Diluc a clear view of where he was even if he wasn’t in direct line of sight. He hadn’t even stirred the leaves in his leaps, though it had been years since he’d gone jumping over grape vines. He and Diluc had used to chase crystal flies in the vineyard, competing to see who could catch the most. One flitted past Kaeya as he ran, a reminder of those long ago pastimes. 

Kaeya glanced back over his shoulder and saw Diluc still chasing him, though he’d lost some ground by going around the first two rows of grapes rather than leaping over them as Kaeya had. With this bright beacon illuminating him, it was unlikely Diluc would leave him alone to search for the other two rebels. Kaeya caught a glimpse of them both up on the winery roof, looking down at him as he leapt over another row of grapes, neither in disguise at the moment while Diluc was so clearly focused on him. He clambered back over the low wall onto the winery’s patio area, eager for more level ground to sprint on. Diluc followed suit, though he veered the other way, clearly trying to circle the building and cut Kaeya off. Kaeya had always been faster than Diluc, but Diluc had learned some tricks to catch him in other ways, though they didn’t always work.

Kaeya realized Diluc’s current plan almost too late, seeing Diluc round the corner of the building ahead of him as he circled it himself. He quickly changed directions, nearly skidding and falling but barely managed to keep his balance. The pillar of light marking him thankfully dissipated and he leapt back over the wall into the vineyard, triggering the invisibility token Aether had given him. He ducked behind a barrel directly next to the low wall, crouched with his heart pounding in his ears, breathing hard from the exertion of his sprint. The token wore off quickly, as usual, but it had done its job. Diluc had lost track of him, if the muttered swearing from a few feet away was any indication. 

Kaeya realized he wasn’t the only one who had noticed Zhongli and Eula on the roof as Diluc turned back to the winery and began to scale the building. He moved at a crouch, keeping the wall between him and Diluc until the building was between them instead, heading back toward his original hiding place. The capture notices for Zhongli and Eula were fairly close together, indicating the two hadn’t gotten far when Diluc joined them on the roof. Diluc was surveying the grounds from the roof now as Kaeya inched his way back up onto the window, lantern guise back in place. He knew the time limit was getting close, he just had to slip under Diluc’s radar for a little bit longer.

Diluc jumped from the roof on the same side of the building Kaeya was clinging to, glider wings spread. Kaeya realized Diluc had spotted him from the new vantage point and groaned inwardly at the thought of another round of sprinting through the vineyard, but prepared to drop as Diluc clambered onto the small deck railing that put him at nearly the same level as Kaeya’s window. 

“Oh no you don’t,” Diluc growled as Kaeya dropped, and he took a flying leap from the railing, tackling Kaeya to the ground with such force that the wind was knocked out of both of them and Kaeya wouldn't have been surprised if he cracked a rib on impact with the ground. Kaeya wheezed as Diluc pinned him in place with a triumphant expression, trying to catch his breath. Aether joined them with a laugh, displaying the remaining time as less than ten seconds.

“That was a close round!” he announced. “Victory goes to the hunter!”

“You can let me up now” Kaeya grumbled, struggling for air with Diluc’s weight still mostly on his chest. Diluc stood and dusted himself off, not bothering to offer a hand to help Kaeya up, but at least Aether had the courtesy to do so. Zhongli and Eula joined the trio as Aether began to pass out the special coins he’d created for his game, though Kaeya had yet to discern any real purpose for them aside from potential bragging rights for having a lot of them.

“That was impressive,” Zhongli commented, though he was complimenting Kaeya, not Diluc’s victory. “I did not expect you to evade him for so long with the beacon marking you.”

“Neither did I,” Kaeya admitted with a pained laugh, wincing as he checked himself over for bruises. “Though I couldn’t help notice you two just watching instead of hiding.” Zhongli had the grace to look momentarily abashed, but Eula just shrugged.

“Your skilled evasion drew the hunter’s attention and I confess I was caught up watching the pair of you to the point of forgetting my own objective temporarily,” Zhongli stated. Kaeya chuckled.

“My ‘skilled evasion’ seems to have earned more ire than warranted, my ribs will be sore all week.” Diluc pointedly ignored the remark, thanking Aether for his time and heading into the vineyard to check for damage to his precious grapes, though Kaeya hadn’t really seen Eula or Zhongli go into the fields. Diluc wasn’t likely to take his word that he hadn’t done any damage himself in his frantic leaps to get away. He still didn’t understand what had prompted Diluc to accept Aether’s game being hosted here at all, but supposed it wasn’t really his place to ask, not any more. 

Kaeya excused himself and headed back toward Mondstadt, fully intending to pay a visit to the cathedral for his sore ribs. If he was going to accept another invitation to Aether’s game in the future, he wanted to be able to run without wincing. Still, it had been kind of amusing to see Diluc tearing around after him, a nostalgic moment that let him forget the walls that lay between them now for a bit. It was worth a little pain for that brief return to happier times.

[arcane-apathy]

Part 2 

Previous | Next (NSFW) 

AN: Part 2 of this mini-series. I don’t know if y’all can tell, but Albuquerque is on my bucket list of places I want to go to. As a heads up, the next part will include smut, so if that isn’t your thing be warned. Anyways, I hope y’all enjoy this one! 😁

Warning(s): N/A

  Your nerves were high all day long, constantly tapping your pen on your clipboard. Your coworkers thought it was the funniest thing they’ve ever seen, gently teasing you about the upcoming date. And you couldn’t wait for this work day to be over. All you wanted to do was go straight home and shower. You stood at the nurses station, finishing your notes from your last patient when one of the RNs approaches you. “So, rumor has it that you have a hot date tonight?” 

  A heavy sigh escapes your lips, “yes Maria, you heard correctly.” 

  The older woman smiles and claps her hands like an excited child, “oh how exciting. Tell me about him?” 

You look at her, debating it in your mind. But, you know she wouldn’t leave you alone until you tell her something. “His name is Santiago, he’s a Naga, we’ve ran into each other a couple times, and he asked me out in a Target.” 

  Maria laughs, “he asked you out in a Target?” 

  “Yeah… He took his opportunity.” 

  “Well, is he cute?” 

  You roll your eyes, “yes Maria, because that’s important.”

  She shrugs as she walks away, “it helps.” You snicker to yourself as you return to your notes. Although you weren’t really focusing on them, you couldn't help as your mind wandered. The stress of having to get ready was already weighing on your mind. Once the notes were finished you let out a sigh of relief, all you needed to do now was mundane tasks until you could clock out. As you left to clock out you couldn’t help but laugh as the other nurses teased you, practically begging for juicy details tomorrow. 

  The ride home was uneventful, which you were thankful for. The more time you had to get ready the better. As soon as you got home you threw off your scrubs, got in the shower, and scrubbed like you'd never showered before. Once out of the shower you slathered on the lotion and aftershave cream. Luckily you picked out your outfit the night before. You even made sure it had just the right necklace. And it felt like you fussed in the mirror for an eternity before you were satisfied with how you looked. 

  By the time you drove up to the Old Town area of Albuquerque your nerves were high. You parked in a paid public parking lot, just like Santiago told you to. When you exited the parking lot you immediately heard a particular Naga calling your name. A blush crawls onto your cheek as he slithers towards you with a pink lily in his hand, “hola.”  Santiago stops in front of you and looks you up and down, holding the flower loosely in his hand, “te ves bonita.” He clears his throat nervously, “sorry, I just got off the phone with my mother, and I was still in Spanish mode.” 

  “It's fine… Te ves hermoso,” you smile as you take your turn to scan him. His hair slicked back, but he luckily used the proportionate amount of hair gel. He wore a teal button up, the color going beautifully with his skin tone, and a black blazer. The shirt was long and designed with Nagas in mind, the perfect length to cover their more private areas. 

  “You speak Spanish?” 

  “A little, I took it back in middle school. And once I moved out here I realized I should have paid more attention,” you chuckle and your eyes land on the flower again. 

  His eyes follow yours and he smiles sheepishly, “oh right, I should’ve given this to you already.” You smile and watch as he breaks the stem, then tucks it into your hair besides your ear. Your cheeks immediately flush again as his fingers brushed against your ear. “My mother was a florist, so if I didn’t bring a flower she would’ve been disappointed.” 

  “I’ve never had anyone give me a flower before, it’s very pretty,” your fingers ghost along the petals. 

  "You deserve it… Shall we go," he offers his arm with a timid smile.  

  "We shall," you tuck your hand in the crook of his arm as you walk beside him. The two of you make pleasant small talk as he shows you around the Old Town. His posture became more relaxed the more and more you guys talked. By the time you reached the restaurant the both of you were more confident, cracking jokes and lightly poking fun at each other. But you didn’t seem to see the new glimmer in his eyes whenever you smiled. 

  Dinner was wonderful to say the least. Conversation between the two of you flowed freely. You learned that Santiago was the youngest of three, and the only boy in his family. He was raised by a single mother and his grandparents. And that his mother’s profession as a florist is what inspired his love for nature and the outdoors. “I wanted to get a job that let me be outdoors all day. So, now I’m a park ranger at Cibola National Forest.” 

  “That sounds more interesting than nursing,” you sip your drink as you watch him curiously. “What do you do as a park ranger?” 

  “Mostly park safety, helping lost tourists, scaring rattlesnakes off the trails.” 

  “Scaring rattlesnakes,” you raise an inquisitive brow. 

  “Yes, I go up and down the trails and keep an eye out for them,” he sips his beer. “If I rattle my tail they usually go away because I’m massive compared to them. And if they bite me nothing happens because of my natural immunity. Not saying that it won’t hurt though.” 

  “It hurts even when a non-venomous snake bites you, and if they don’t get treated properly they can lead to nasty infections. Which hurt more.” 

  “Most Naga tend to have stronger immune systems than humans, even then I still clean it and make sure it’s bandaged.” The waiter stops at your table, clearing your empty plates off of the table. You were surprised when he refused dessert before you could say anything, watching Santiago skeptically. “Don’t worry cariño, I know just the place for dessert.” 

  You blush a little at the nickname, “I suppose you would know better than I.” The two of you split the bill, although it took some arguing on your side. 

  “Alright I’ll allow it,  but I will pay for dessert.” 

  You roll your eyes at his old fashioned ways, “you’ll allow it?” 

  “Yes… As long as we don’t tell my mother we split it. I try to avoid every lecture I can.” 

  You laugh as you get up from the table, taking his arm again, “I suppose I can keep a secret. Your mother sounds wonderful.” 

  “She is, but so are you,” he smirks and interlaces his fingers with yours. You look down at your hands, a little shocked at how forward he was now. 

  “Sorry, should I not have done that?” 

  He goes to move his hand but you just squeeze it reassuringly, “no it’s fine.” Santiago smiles wider, his fangs catching the light from all the signs of the storefronts. There were colorful fairy lights hanging from most stores, and there was the faint sound of a mariachi band a few streets away. The Old Town was beautiful, all the buildings were adobes, the decor was colorful, everything was just picturesque. Santiago stops in front of a shop with a neon sign that reads ‘panadería’. You follow him inside and the first thing you noticed was the strong smell of pastries. 

  “You said you haven’t gotten to try much of the local cuisine, so I figured a panadería was a good place to start.” He keeps you close to his side as he points things out in the cases, and talks to the older woman behind the counter in rapid Spanish. At the end of it all the two you got a small box of goodies to share at the nearby park. You sat together on a bench besides a lamppost from the early twentieth-century, Santiago leisurely wraps his tail around your ankles. “So, which do you want to start with?” 

  You point to a pig-shaped cookie, “the Cochito sounds nice, and it’s adorable.” 

  Santiago chuckles as he breaks the cookie in half, “do you want the butt or the head?”

  “Either is fine,” you smile as he hands you the head. You take a small bite, the cookie wasn’t too hard or too soft nor was it crumbly. Just like Santiago said, it tasted similar to a gingerbread cookie. But instead of ginger they used cinnamon, “you know, I don’t like cinnamon that much. But, this is really good.” 

  “We like cinnamon with our sweets, but it is one of the more milder flavors. There are a lot of Mexican candies that have chili flavoring.” 

  “Not to be rude, but that sounds gross.” 

  He laughs, “ it’s okay, even I don’t like them that much. However chili and chocolate is a good combination.”

  “I’ve never had it, so I have no comment” 

  Santiago picks up another pastry and tears the sweet apart, “vanilla Concha with lemon icing.” You take the torn piece and smile at how cute it was with the bright yellow frosting. The flavor blend was beautiful, and the lemon wasn’t overpowering at all. It didn’t take long for the two of you to satisfy your sweet tooth, nearly cuddling against each other as you ate. Santiago unwound himself from around your ankles and made his way to the nearby trash can. You couldn’t help but stare at his tail as he moved, fascinated with how the complex muscles looked while he slivered along the pavement. 

  “You’re staring, cariño.” 

  “I can’t help it, it’s still so foreign to me,” you fluster a little as he sits back down. 

  He sets the very end of his tail on your lap, “wanna look at it?” You nod cautiously and run your fingers along the scales, earning a smile from Santiago. 

  “So this is the rattle, huh”, you apprehensively run your fingers over the keratin segments. 

  “Indeed, every time I molt I get a new segment. And the muscles that control the rattle are among some of the fastest in the world. They can move about fifty times per second,” he rattles it for a split second. The sudden noise makes you jump, “sorry, should’ve given you a warning.” 

  “It’s fine,” you laugh a little at yourself. Santiago takes the opportunity to partially wrap the end of his tail around your wrist. “Oh, that is a lot of muscle.” 

  “Pretty good for never doing a leg day in my life, right?” You laugh heartily at the joke, using your free hand to cover your mouth. The two of you stay like that a while, part of his tail on your lap and at some point you lay your legs across his lap. The more you two talk the more blind you become to everything happening around you. Your peaceful conversation was rudely interrupted by Santiago’s phone going off. He looks at the caller ID and sighs, “it’s my roommate. He must’ve thought I died or something.” 

  You notice the time on his phone, “wow, it’s already nine thirty?” 

  “Yeah, time sure flies when you’re having fun,” he interlocks his fingers with yours again. His smile faltered a little as he looked at the clock again, “you should go, you said you had work in the morning.” 

  “That would be the responsible thing to do… Would you walk me back to my car?” 

  “Of course, I think you’ll get lost without me anyways,” he snickers as the two of you untangle your limbs. 

  “Lead the way, ranger.” He rolls his eyes as you tease, keeping a firm grip on your hand as the two of you leave the park. The streets weren’t as busy anymore, and the bars had small crowds outside of them. You didn’t care the some people stared as long as they kept their, most likely bigoted, comments to themselves. Once you made it to the parking lot, the two of you stood at the entrance, not wanting to leave the other. “I had a wonderful time tonight.” 

  “So did I,” his confidence faltered slightly as he was unsure of what to do next. 

  “I… I wouldn’t mind doing this again.” 

  “Really,” his eyes lit up like a Christmas tree. 

  “Really… You’re fun and very sweet.” 

  “You aren’t too bad yourself cariño,” his trail slowly wraps around your feet loosely. His golden eyes landing on your mouth then scanning the rest of your face as he pulls you closer. “May I kiss you?” 

  You can feel your face instantly heat up, “I wouldn’t mind that at all.” 

  Santiago’s smile grows as his tail tightens around your ankles, a means to pull you even closer to him. His touch was gentle while he cupped your cheek and placed a chaste kiss on your lips. Obviously not wanting to overstep his boundaries. You gently wrap your arms around his neck and pull him in for another kiss, much to his surprise. “Easy now cariño, it’s already hard enough for me to hold back,” he laughs and kisses the top of your head. 

  “I’m sorry for wanting something a little more,” you smirk and playfully pinch his cheek. 

  “In due time cariño,” he takes your hand and squeezes it reassuringly. “You should go hun, you have an early morning.” 

  “I suppose,” you pout.

  “Text me when you get home,” he begins to uncoil himself. “I want to know you made it home safe.” 

  “I will,” you look at your hands, holding onto each other by the pointer finger. “Thank you for tonight, I had a blast.” 

  “Anytime,” he gently takes your hand one last time and kisses the top of your knuckles. “Now run along cariño, don’t let me hold you up.” 

  You blush again, “not my fault you’re so enjoyable to be around.” With a heavy sigh you let go of his hand and adjust your purse on your shoulder, “well, thank you again… And I’ll text you soon.” 

  “Looking forward to it.” 

[be-ready-when-i-say-go]

We’re Outsiders

This is a re-upload, or a throwback (originally written back in 2018). I hope you guys enjoy it too! I’ve edited it a little bit as well, since it’s original posting on the ye old @calumh-excess.

Calum’s used to being the on the fringe and used to be the one that fucks it all up. Cookie’s always used to being on the outside. Happens most of the time and completely out of her control.  Together, they remind each other it’s okay to be on the outside--all you need sometimes is a shot.

Greaser!AU. Black OC.

CW: Deals with racism (some mentions of racially charged words), mentions of violence.

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No one has my permission to repost this fic, including translations. All rights reserved. Copyright © be-ready-when-i-say-go. 

_____________________________________

Calum’s used to the dark. Most nights it’s just him out too late, past the time the street lights turn on. He likes it, driving down streets in the blinking of the streetlights as he glides over asphalt. The roads lined with trees and houses. The roads are lined with life that moves all around him, but are not bothered by him. That brings him peace. He’s so often the outsider. He’s the one that everyone stares at, with soft whispers. He knows what they’re saying is never good. He’s built that reputation for himself, with his slicked back hair, cuffed jeans and leather jacket. He’s done it to himself, being other and further ostracizing himself.

It’s not the life he chose for himself. His parents kicked him out and he had nowhere else to go. So Ashton, a guy from the south side that Calum had grown comfortable with, offered his house. It kept him in the same school for his last year and off the streets, so he took it. His friend group expanded, but now he was getting himself in more trouble than usual. Originally not a Prep and not a Greaser, Calum had managed to keep under the radar for the first year of high school. But now that he was living with Ashton, a prominent Greaser and hanging with the likes of Michael and Luke. Calum made a new name for himself.

Calum’s parents weren’t a fan of his interest in boxing. Calum took to amateur boxing as a way to finally feel like someone.  His stature made it easy for him to lie about his age in the beginning of it at barely fifteen and no one cared enough to double check. Calum knew he’d never really go anywhere ultimately. He knew he’d wind up somewhere local, knew he’d end up in overalls in the car shop, changing tires and oil. After coming home too many times, coming home bloody, his parents had had enough. 

Now with the Greasers, it was becoming evident Calum wasn’t just some quiet guy in the corner. His interest was saving his ass. When people wanted to pin them into corners, get into their faces, he always had a backup plan in his pocket. Fighting wasn’t his first resort, not initially. He’d try to talk a situation down. It doesn’t last long for anyone trying to pick a fight. Just about any and every fight ended with Calum standing, sometimes wavering just a little over some poor boy’s sweater vest and plaid shirt, covered in blood droplets, his fists put up in front of his face.

“Maybe sometimes, I just ought to run away from a fight,” Calum huffs to himself as his bike putters to a halt in front of the diner. “And I ought to gas this up more often too.”

He knew before he got the school to tutor that he needed to grab some gas. But he definitely thought he’d make it to the station closer to the city line. Tutoring felt like a saving grace. After work Calum spent a few hours at the school helping kids. It reminded him that he wasn’t all bad. It made him realize there was still humanity to him.  

The kids he tutored normally never cared about school. They were too busy trying to survive, not wanting to be the next Black body to wash up into a river or hanging like strange fruit from a tree. But they needed school, even though Calum empathized with them, he knew they needed the basics. They needed to write, do basic addition, needed to read just a little bit. So that’s how he worked with them. He’d level with them, You can’t take that girl out on a date if you don’t know how to count how much cash you have and how much it’s gonna cost you. And you definitely can’t be cool daddy-o, if you not reading well. 

The thing about kids is that they always asked; they knew he was trying to survive too in a world that seemed like it was always trying to kill them. If he came back with a black eye, or a busted lip, they asked him if his addition got him out of that fight. Calum would try not to encourage this kind of behavior, but he had to admit, the joke would be funny. Calum would reply nearly the same way, “Yeah, I added one fist plus two fists and put his candy ass flat. I’ll try subtraction next time.”

Right now though, Calum’s gotta focus on getting gas. He passes this diner all the time. He’s just never stopped here. It’s a silent understanding that this is a Blacks only establishment. He’s given a few kids rides after tutoring here. The parking lot is always full of Black people hanging around the doors and in cars, laughing as they part from their full meals. Just a couple minutes past here by vehicle is his own town, mostly white, some Blacks sprinkled into the mix. City’s split into thirds. There’s the northern side, the southern quarter and the Western side. The Black part of town neighbors right on the edge of this town. He knows it’s done strategically. The edges have become blended over time. But it’s not by a lot. The divisions aren’t invisible. 

Because of winter’s grip even though it’s only closing in on evening, the darkness keeps most people in their own homes. Booths are empty. A couple tables hold people sitting. The hostess looks up from wiping down counters, smiling. She looks vaguely familiar, he thinks, as she leans against the dry part of the counter.  “What can I do ya for?”

“Gas. And maybe a shake too,” Calum counters.

Her grin widens. “I can help with the shake.”

Calum goes onto to explain, “Bike’s empty.  I reckon I should pay more attention.”

He watches the way her full flips twist up, her coily hair pinned back and a dainty little white flower headband tied around the middle. She raps her fingers against the counter. “Charlie boy!” she hollers turning to the kitchen.

“He in the back gettin’ ready leave,” comes a booming voice.

“He got his gas can still in his car?” There’s a shout in return and she turns back around, voice returning to her normal sweet tone. “Give me just a second.”

Calum nods, sliding onto the barstool. She slips from the counters, running into the kitchen. He notes the lack of a skirt. Her pants are tight around her thighs and hitting her just below the knees. Wait a second, he knows those leopard print pants anywhere. Her father was the one that had a crossed burned in their front yard a couple years back. It was the only time they seemed to be targeted, but rocks were thrown their windows too.

Calum sat next to her in English in tenth grade. The last year they had together before her family moved. He heard rumors that her family owned this place. But he wasn’t sure how true those were. She was always nice to him in school. “It ain’t no white boy!” she huffs, the doors sway close behind her.

A dark skinned man, bald too, stares Calum down, lips pressed together. After a silent moment, the man speaks. His voice deep and gruff. “He da one fix Ma car. Why you ain’t tell me it was him?” It’s a playful scoff from the man as he bumps her with elbow. “I’ll be back.”

Calum recognizes him. The man scared the shit out of Calum when he walked into the car shop. He looked mean, but it was just the years wearing down his brow line. He has to put on a mean face because it keeps everyone from bothering him, as he explained to Calum. “Thank you,” Calum says, sliding down and fishing out his wallet from his jacket pocket.

“Oh, keep dat. Keep it,” the man waves his hand, turning away from him.

“At least something?” Cal asks. “For the trouble?” He holds out a five dollar bill.

“If you think it I can’t spare a couple bucks,” the man starts.

The girl cuts him off. “Charlie just go get the damn gas. Ain’t no one trying to say anything or start anything. Just go.”

Calum continues to hold out the bill even as the man disappears into the back. She slides behind the counter and Calum pushes the bill towards her. “Make sure he gets that.”

“You do realize he’s gonna raise hell. He’s too proud.”

“Please.” Calum continues to hold her gaze and all the time he’s trying to pull her name to the top of his brain. Was it Deborah? She had a nickname that she went by. Calum feels his tongue curling, but everything to the comes to the tip of it feels wrong. 

With a sigh, she nods and slips the bill into the pocket of her apron. “I’ll make sure he gets it. Charlie not mean, just hardheaded. As I’m sure you know, Calum.”

He lets a small laugh escape him. “Yeah, yeah I do. Wait, you remember my name?”

She winks at him. “Course I do. I remember everyone’s name. Still want that shake?” Truth be told, she didn’t always remember everyone’s name. But she remembered his, couldn’t forget it really. 

“Surprise me,” he grins. 

She smiles with a shake of her head. She doesn’t go far, around the wall that separates the kitchen from the back of the counter seating. Her conversation with the cook is short. Calum leans into the counter. 

When she turns back around, she notices his the silver chain around his neck as he plays with it. He looks like his mind is far away. She takes in his appearance, the golden skin, the bruises probably days old due to the coloration fading. He really hadn’t changed all that much since the last time she saw him. Maybe he got a little bit more handsome. Maybe it was a change in the cut of his jaw or the chub to his cheeks had slimmed just a hair. But it was still very much Calum in front of her. 

“Been in trouble?” she asks, gently rubbing her fingers over the bruises along the back of his knuckles. Her eyes linger on the one on the top of his cheek. Her cousin had told her that he seemed to be on the straight for now, but his healing body says something different. 

Calum tries to recover from the shiver running down his spine. His voice is shaky as he speaks. “I’ve been trouble.”

“Cats scared of you know, huh?” Calum hears the teasing lilt to her tone, trying to keep the subject light. He shrugs at her question in response. “I’m not. I seen you fight. You ain’t so big and bad.”

It was once. She wasn’t even sure what it was over, just happened to be turning the corner to the building to walk home and behind the school a group had gathered, Calum at the center. He was breathing heavy, fists clenched. It was he was the calm eye to the hurricane of people hollering and shouting at the fighting match happening. 

“Miss stealing your English notes,” he offers. That’s not what he wants to be known for, that’s not what he wants to be remembered by as the guy that could fight. “And those tiny hearts as periods,” he chuckles. The first time he saw it, he wasn’t sure if it was a heart or not. But as he skimmed over her notes more, the clear it became that those oddly large periods were really hearts in disguise.

Totally a sore subject, so she won’t be prodding that bull anymore. “Everyone here hates ‘em.”

Calum shakes his head, a grin splitting his lips. “They were kinda cute. Hope you ain’t do it for all the cats needing your notes?”

“That’s just the way I write,” she laughs. “But for you, maybe for you they were a little bigger than most.”  

“Don’t do that to me, doll,” Calum laughs. “Don’t go getting my hopes up.”

“I ain’t trying to do that. By no means.” They laugh, gazes falling from each other after a moment. He didn’t know this about her. The side that liked to dish out the jabs. They didn’t ever really interact a whole lot in class, or after school when he’d return her notes. But he likes this. He likes their back and forth. 

“Did you know you used to tutor my cousin?” Calum tilts his head to the side, trying to go through the catalog of his kids. He’s trying to place her face with those that he knows. But he’s coming up short. She continues on though. “You remember Elijah? Always bettin’ somebody?”

As the grin overtakes his face, Calum laughs. “Yes, yeah, I remember that kid. Always squeezin’ me for fifty cent!”

She laughs, nodding. “That’s Elijah. He’s kept his grades up. Not all A’s. But he’s doing good. He never stopped talking about all the bets y’all made. He could bash ears about you.”

“He was a good kid. Tell ‘im I said hi, will ya?”

“I’ll tell him.”

“Cookie!” a voice bellows. That’s it! That’s the nickname. At the back of his brain, he kept trying to pull it to the surface. But just couldn’t for the life of him. She spins around, grabbing the plate and glass in the window. It’s a slice of pie as far as Calum can tell and a shake. She grabs some silverware and then slides the plate and glass in front of Calum.

“No need for you to be waitin’ and be starvin’.”

“Tell me, Cookie,” he grins as the nickname slides off his tongue, “care to split this slice with me? I remember what my momma taught me about eating dessert before dinner.”

She clicks her tongue against her teeth. “Hmm,” she considers, fingers tapping at her chin. “You can get away with the nickname. This time,” she adds on, watching Calum’s brows shooting up on his face. “You’re not the only one that can dish out a knuckle sandwich.”

Calum taps the heels of his boots together, the soft thuds echoing in the quiet air of the dinner. “I’m shakin’ in my boots.”

“You better be.”

They talk about their lives, Calum working at the shop and her finishing up school though it feels like for sure she’s spending too much time at the diner. She does it mostly to help out since her parents are short staffed at the moment. Tiny pieces are cut between laughs and shy glances up from between lashes. Without even realizing the last fork clinks against the empty plate as Charlie walks back into the diner, through the front doors. “That your bike out front?”

“Yes, sir,” Calum answer, sliding off the stool.

“C’mon, and I’ll fill her up.” 

“Thank you again for helpin’ me.”

“You good people. Don’t sweat it.” He doesn’t wait around before stepping back into the dark of the now thickly settled in night. 

“How much do I owe you?” He turns to Cookie and nods towards the half finished shake. She waves a hand before pulling out his five from earlier.

“Let’s just say it’s on the house.” Calum goes to speak and she shakes her head. “He won’t take the money. I’ll use it to cover the bill and give him extra on his tip,” she whispers. “Believe me, I’ve got things all worked out over here.”

It’s a fair enough system and Calum hurriedly slips into his jacket before his boots click against the floor. Charlie doesn’t seem like the kind of man to keep waiting. And Calum definitely doesn’t want to find out the hard way. But as his feet carry him closer and closer to the door, his gut keeps jumping. He doesn’t want to let this be the last time he sees Cookie. 

And maybe it’s just the late night and the first time a girl looked at him that didn’t throw herself at him. Sure, Cookie flirted and he flirted back. But girls had two modes with him, they either ran away from him or they were just looking for a good time. Calum normally didn’t have anything against that. But that’s not what he wanted. He wanted someone he could laugh with, someone that saw behind the bruises. 

With one hand still holding the door open, Calum turns just a bit. “Cookie,” he starts, turning around. He might be pushing it just a little with the nickname. But the way she smiles lets him know that maybe she likes it too. “Mind if I see you again?”

“My English notes are always available. You know where to find me.” It ends with a nod. The bright smile that makes Calum’s stomach knot up again. 

“I’ll see ya ‘round, doll.”

__________________________________________

The dinner rush seems like it’s never going to end. The second she thinks she can keep up with her tables, someone’s asking for a refill on the drink, or needing extra condiments, or more napkins. But finally, she can see through the windows again. The parking lot doesn’t look like a party of it’s own. Cookie exhales, plopping down into the barstool. If her hair weren’t already pinned back, it would’ve fallen into her face. It’s only Friday. Tomorrow will be much worse. However, right now, she can take a deep breathe. She can take a moment for herself. Cookie presses her forehead into the cool counter. 

The door chimes again. God, not someone else. Not another patron. However, no matter how much she wants to disappear into the ethos, she swallows the complaints back down and pops up off the stool. “Booth or table?” she asks, automatically reaching for some menus.

“Tellin’ me the counter’s not free?” Calum grins.

She places a menu down, gesturing with a sweeping motion to the spot she once sat. “All for you.”

Calum shrugs out of his coat, draping it over the seat next to him. He chews on his bottom lip. She’s grinning up at him and he knows it’s not the same grin everyone gets. Her eyes twinkle too though he can tell she’s tired. “Full of gas today?”

It’s been a week since he had to drop in after running out. He didn’t expect her to drop it. She probably would never drop it either. “All the to the tip top,” he exhales with a tuft of laughter. She’s leaning into the end of the counter, the little part that starts to turn into the two doors that tell customers to keep out. 

“Charlie Boy says thanks for the tip.” A table across from her flags her down and they lock gazes for a second. The exchange of acknowledgement nods. “I’ll be right back to get your drink.”

Calum nods, watching her rush away. It’s a skirt today but the blue matches the decor inside and he concludes it’s the uniform. Why she wasn’t wearing on that fated Wednesday he’s not sure. But he liked that. Like that she didn’t always try to fit in. 

Calum looks over the menu and everything looks to die for. But he’s not really ordering anything, didn’t even intend to. He only came by to see her. Money was getting tighter thanks to repairs needed for the house, but it’s nothing that he and Ashton can’t scrap the money together for. Though, Calum was sure Ashton was going to flip a lid if he had to pulled more money for his car funds. 

Cookie darts around the counter, grabbing the coffee pot and smiles when she notices Calum watching her. “Didn’t forget. Promise I’m coming back.”

“No rush. You workin’.”

 When she finally gets settled again, Calum leans his elbows onto the table and rests his chin on the flat of his knuckles. “What are you doing tomorrow night?”

“Besides working my ass off here?”

“Cookie what I tell you about all that swearin’!” The voice is distinct but he can’t place who it belongs too. The whole diner is still pretty packed and with all the waitress in the same uniform, it’s almost like a blur happening around him.

She rolls her eyes, reaches into the pocket of her apron and drops a nickel into the tip jar. “I swore yesterday and never put my two pennies in. I’m just covering myself for the next one,” she explains with a small laugh.

“Besides workin’, what are your plans?”

She shrugs. “Don’t get off until 9. I should probably get some homework done.”

“Would you be interested in catchin’ a movie?”

“Askin’ for passion pit?” At first Calum thinks she’s serious. He didn’t think his reputation was going down like that. He was a gentleman. A fighter of course, but always a gentleman. He goes to defend himself and how he’d treat her like a lady until he sees the grin on her face.

“Oh, just keep yankin’ my leg, huh? So you dig?”

She nods. “My only question, where?”

“I’m not sure of places around here, besides I have a bike. Not really drive in material. But there’s one not too far just across the west line.”

He can feel the hesitation on her. He prays she doesn’t say no. He figured that one would be close enough to her old neighborhood, it won’t put her too far into dangerous spot. The North side of town is no place for her. Nor is any spot  for him to be casually. He knows that. He’s not blind to the looks Black people get in groceries stores or walking down streets. He’s not blind to the news or the lack of news surrounding disappearances.

“How far across the line?”

“Minute. Two max. Close to your old neighborhood.”

She bites onto her lip, looking up to the ceiling. “I haven’t been on that side in a while. I know those people are cool with you. South siders are thick as thieves. I’m just, nervous. But I’ll go. If it gets too bad, we gotta go. No one’s gonna burn a cross, but, I just, I’m worried.”

Calum nods. “Of course. If ya want, we could go to the one over here.”

“You’ll get nasty looks too.” 

“Don’t mean you gotta sacrifice yourself.”

Her laughter is sad and heavy as it falls from her throat. She opens her mouth to say something. She wants to joke that sometimes her entire existence feels like a sacrifice, that somehow her mere existence felt inherently politicized and a form of rebellion. She doesn’t let it cross her lips though. Instead, she swallows it back down and shakes her head. “Now, what’s cookin’ good lookin’? What can I do ya for?”

Calum reaches out for her hand. The touch is light, makes her insides tingle too, if she’s honest. “You already did it. See you tomorrow, Cookie.”

“I apologize if my father’s a bummer tomorrow. Keeps a tight ship. I’ll still be able to go. But that ain’t to say you won’t have to fight for it.”

Calum nods before taking his hands back and sliding into the jacket. He’ll keep that in mind. “I’ll break out my loafers,” he grins. “Get ‘em spit shined too.”

Her laughter follows Calum out the door and through his entire ride back to the house. When Calum walks in, Ashton immediately note the grin on his friend’s lip. “What you got up to?”

Calum shakes his head, pulling his jacket off. “Nothing.”

“Nothing surely looks like a hell of a lot like something. You cheesin’ too damn hard. That girl?”

“She’s nice.”

“Just be careful.” Ashton doesn’t miss the questioning glance of his friend. He holds his hands up. “Look, don’t shoot. I’m just saying, this town ain’t too fond of people like her. She moved for a reason.”

“You fond of people like her? They folks just like us.”

“I’m not saying that, and you know it.” Ashton retorts, his gaze firm and mouth twisted down into a scowl. Ashton knows he’s not like the rest of the town. But he doesn’t want to see his friend washed up and bloated from the river. “But you gotta be careful with her. The world’s inherently against her. And you could get caught in the middle.”

Calum understands the sentiment, but sees no issues. He’s not naive to think the world’s just gonna open their arms. But people aren’t that bad. He doesn’t believe that, even if it felt like he was constantly fighting. He had to believe that there are good people out there. If not, the rest of his life would be hard and full of more scraps. “I can handle if I get caught in the middle.”

“But do you want to handle getting caught in the middle?”

“C’mon, man, do you hear yourself? I like her. She’s nice. She don’t look at my bruises and think she has to run away from me.”

“That’s awesome. You know I’m rootin’ for y’all. But you are in just as much danger as she is. And you already got plenty of people who don’t like you. It’s all they need. They’d only need a reason.”

Calum knows Ashton is right. He knows that anyone that didn’t already like him would really like him now. However, that doesn’t mean she doesn’t deserve a chance. That doesn’t mean Calum can just run away.

“I like her.” It’s final as it falls from his lips.

He brushes shoulders with Ashton as he heads to his room. It’s not meant to be mean, Ashton just can’t bare the thought of something happening. The world can’t be all bad. But it can and very much did get pretty bad. An hour or two later, as Calum just starts to feel the grip of sleep, there’s a knock on his door. He snaps awake and walks to the door.

Ashton’s holding out a cookie, from the pack they bought last week from groceries. “It’s the last one. I didn’t want to take it without asking.”

Calum wipes at his face one last time, leaning into the molding of the door. His stomach growls and he realizes he hasn’t eaten anything yet. He takes hold of the chocolate chip cookie and chuckles. “Her nickname is Cookie, ya know?” He says taking a bite of the treat.

“Well, Daddy-O, you’ll be callin’ her baby real soon.”

Calum throws a weak, half-hearted punch to Ashton’s gut. “Fuck off,” he laughs.

Ashton curls up, blocking most of the blow. He laughs too. The tension from earlier disappears. Calum understands Ashton’s concerns, but he can handle himself. One date isn’t going to end the world. He knows it won’t make the world a less spiteful place, but he can’t let that predict every move he makes. He hasn’t let it yet and he can’t start now.

__________________________________

The diner’s parking lot is shockingly full when Calum walks his bike to a stop. He kicks down stand and straddles the bike before getting his leg around. He’s mindful not put the collar of his leather jacket back down. He didn’t put too much gel in his hair either. Good impressions. That’s what he’s gotta make right now. Though, one look at him immediately gives away his affiliation, but he tries to tone it back down. Calum even threw on one of his scarcely worn button up shirts. When he walks inside, he notices Cookie untying her apron. There’s a man, a little taller, with a neat short cropped cut, and a face just like hers, though he’s a tad lighter in complexion.

She smiles at Calum and he returns the gesture, exhaling as he walks over. He’s not used to having to meet the parents up front. But this isn’t his house, these aren’t his rules. He’ll still play the game though. Calum extends his hand. “How are you, sir?”

Her father shakes his hand, grip firm and eyes sharp. “I’m good, son. How are you?”

“I’m well.”

The quick once up and down is almost too fast to catch, but Calum knows the tactic well. “I don’t judge, son. I don’t. The world’s full of it already. Just treat her right, tonight.”

“Of course, sir. Is there any time I should have her back by?”

“As long as no one’s coming through my door at ungodly hours, I’m not too concerned.”

Cookie sighs, head falling on her neck as the sigh shrinks her shoulder. “He means midnight at the latest. I’ll save ya the time of walking through that maze of a riddle.”

With that, she leads him out of the diner. Calum can feel the eyes on him. Some whistle as they leave. Nothing menacing, all good teasing love. He laughs as Cookie groans in their departure. 

Calum doesn’t miss the way his own body is warming though, the jitters almost making his teeth chatter. Her touch is so sure, but gentle against his hand. Cookie pauses at his bike and releases his hand, running her fingers gently over the handlebars. 

“So, a couple friends of mine wanna tag along, is that okay? I can shake ‘em if not,” Calum warns. 

She nods. “That’s fine.” There’s a moment where she’s gazing up at the skies and Calum’s watching her. “Honestly, I’m just glad to get away from the dinner even if it’s only for a couple hours. I graduate in June but I know where I’m going to wind up. I just need a way not to get stuck.”

Calum pulls out the helmet. “Well, let me unstick you.”

She huffs. “My hair is not going to fit into this.”

“You better make it fit, baby. Because I’m not leaving until it’s on your head.”

She cocks one of her hips out, the black blouse tied at her waist, paired with black pants too. Her red Keds tied perfectly around her feet. “Fine. But someone better have a mirror for me to fix this afterwards.”

“I’ve gotcha, doll.”

She wants to curse the way her heart flutters at the nickname ‘doll’ because there’s no good reason for her to almost melt at the way it curls off Calum’s tongue. But she does. Especially with the tiny shy smile he always pairs it with. It gets her every time and if she could curse him so it didn’t, she would. 

He slides onto the bike first and she slips on behind him, arms wrapping around his waist. Her hold is strong, even a little tense when he first takes off. But a few seconds later, after being on the road, she loosens her grip. The wind is great across her face. She’s only been a bike once before. She’s not necessarily the angel most people think her out to be and she enjoys the secondary persona. It gives her a break from her reality, that she will always be bashed because of her skin color. She will always be at a disadvantage, it feels. But it doesn’t means she can’t have her fun along the way. 

As the stop at a light, she watches with blurred vision as the red light burns into her retina. Soon it turns orange, and she’s staring out of her bedroom window watching white clothed bodies lighting fire to a cross. All she can think about is how she covers her younger sister’s and brother’s eyes, tries to keep them preoccupied. But they still asked her why them. What did they do wrong? And the answer unfortunate truth is nothing but exists. She doesn’t tell them that, she instead tells them that some people are just mean and don’t understand the harm in their beliefs. She doesn’t have the heart to shatter their worlds. She doesn’t have the heart to use words like racist, and evil. They’re too young still. But they know for sure. They know about it, they just don’t have the words.

“Hey,” Calum says, gently, hands wrapping around hers around his waist.

She blinks and realizes they’re parked. “Sorry, just thinking.” Her arms slip from around him and she pulls the helmet off gently. The bright bulbs on the front of the building let her know it’s the theater. The spaces are a little empty, but there are some cars. Most people have probably opted for the drive in since the weather is starting to finally break.  She pushes off the seat. He watches her, quickly wiping at her face. Why the tears now? The worst time possible. 

“Hey, whoa, what’s wrong?”

“Nothin’. I’m okay.”

“It don’t look like nothin’.”

“I-I’m okay.”

“We can skip the flick,” he offers, gingerly reaching out and resting a hand on her shoulder. “It’s no big deal.”

“Your friends would surely be disappointed.”

“They won’t be.”

“I just. I wish I could shake them. I can’t get that image out of my head sometimes. All of those men in my front yard. My sister and brother being scared. It’s not easy.”

He’s at a lost for words. He doesn’t know what’s that like and he probably will never. It’s not to say that he hasn’t gotten his fair share, nor Ashton. Ashton caught a lot of heat taking Cal in, but when everyone you know can keep up in a fight, people tend not to say much. But her family was prominent, and typically non-violent. “I know there’s probably not a lot I can say or do right now,” Calum starts, gently taking her chin between his fingers and tiling her head back. “But whatever you need, let me help.”

He swims in her vision for a moment and Cookie wishes she could just get over it. She wishes she could just take a sponge and wash it from memory. But it’s right there, right behind her eyelids some nights. Shutting her eyes for a moment, she lets the few tears falls, but she nods gently. “Thanks.”

“Of course,” he breathes, “of course.” Calum pulls her in for just a moment, letting her compose herself.  Cookie wishes she hadn’t, the smell of him now and the hint of nicotine is pressing into the hairs of her nose. She never wants to breathe out. 

It takes a moment longer before she nods into his chest and they head inside. Ashton said he’d cover the tickets, if Calum covered a bit more on the groceries. So it works out. Inside, fingers threaded through each others, Calum spots, Ashton, Luke and Michael, leaning against the wall. A circle of Preps are eyeing them but their attention is immediately shifted when she and Calum walk in. Calum holds a little tighter to her hand. He prays they don’t start anything.

As they walks closer to his friends, Calum notices more people are watching them. Not just Preps, but everyone in the room. “Thought we scared you and your Daddy out of this town!” someone shouts.

Her grip tightens in response, but she doesn’t drop her gaze from the three boys in front of her, Calum’s friends. This is what she’s used to, at any march, at any speaking event. This is normal for her. It doesn’t hurt any less. It doesn’t stop making her heart jolt at every insult, but she can hide the flinches, she can hold back her tongue. For a moment.

“You know you don’t belong here!”

She’s waiting for one of them to use the word. She just need the lips to curl into the start of n sound and she can pounce. She’d rather not start a scene here, on the wrong side of town. But god, does she only need one reason, she only needs one of them to set her off. “Either cut the gas, or you’re gonna have a problem,” Calum warns, a single ring adorned digit signaling out the offender.

“Oh, she can’t talk, huh?” Joseph is always one to try and start any fire he can. It was like he almost got off on the humiliation. 

“Drop dead,” Cookie hisses. “No one wants anything to do with you. Won’t no one thinking about you for two seconds, so now you gotta make yourself known.”

“Fream speaks!”

God, she wanted not to give in. She wanted to walk away. “I do. But you got a lot to say. So keep running your mouth, half way to a bruisin’ as it is.”

Calum looks back to her. He didn’t expect that from her, but something hits his chest. It’s a strange excitement and the adrenaline before a fight. Part of it definitely disbelief. Not Cookie, he hasn’t pegged her as the type. But maybe he had been more wrong about her than he thought. Maybe all the teasing and flirty wasn’t just her playing games. While Calum would rather not have a fight, he sure as hell wouldn’t leave her to a fight alone. “The lady spoke,” he grins, turning back to Joseph. “Shut it or we dance.”

Joseph, who once was surrounded by his posse, notices that only on a couple of his original boys still stand. No one really wants to get into a fight with Calum. And everyone can see the other three circling in close too. The odds are heavily on their favor and Joseph would definitely be the laugh of the town. “You’re not worth it anyway,” Joseph finally mutters. Though Calum can see the way he’s holding something in the back of his mouth.

Calum pushes her back behind him, just in time too before the spit lands on the floor at her feet. His hands are in fists before he realizes and he surges forward. Grabbing the collar of Joseph’s shirt, Calum lifts him from the ground. He can’t even get the word out before Joseph releases an ‘Oof’ doubling from a blow. Calum looks to his left to see her fist at her side. “Try me again,” she hisses. “Put him down and let him try me again. Just because my dad’s nonviolent, don’t mean I am all the time.”

Calum drops the boy from his grasp. “Where the hell did that come from?”

Ashton, Luke, and Michael who have been keeping to the back, watching, waiting for anyone to step in, finally move in towards them. Luke takes hold of Calum’s bicep. “Let’s go. We can’t afford any heat right now.” Luke’s taking in Cookie and the crowd. It can go south real fast for them. 

Calum nods and reaches out, running his fingers from the top of her vein along her wrist to her fingers. Cookie’s hand unfolds and he intertwines their fingers. She takes a step back and while Joseph is still recovering, she spits on his shoes. “Need better aim next time!”

The five of them shuffle out of the theater, quickly, knowing any attendant that happened to see the heated argument could be dialing for the cops. Outside, Calum pushes her closer to Michael. Most people don’t suspect him. He’s good in a fight, but not overtly identifiable. “Ride with Michael.” Folks definitely saw Calum and Cookie walk in together. She can’t be on his bike, not with him. If he gets caught and pushed around by the cops, it’s fine. But if she’s caught with him, that’s bad news.

“Sorry for ruining our date,” she calls out to him.

Calum slips on the helmet, grinning. “You didn’t ruin it, Cookie. You made it a hell of a night. Michael, goose it. Got it? Burn fucking rubber.”

Michael nods with a grin. “You know how to pick ‘em, Cal.”

Cookie slides into the passenger seat of Michael’s car. And true to Calum’s instruction, Michael blares down the backroads. He laughs about halfway through the journey. “Got a solid jab,” he offers.

“Thanks. Dad taught me.”

“Cal boxes. You know that?”

“Heard something like it.”

“Yeah,” he hiccups as they bounce a deep hole in the road. “Maybe he knew deep down you could fight too.”

Soon they pull into the driveway of a decently upkeep house. The outside doesn’t have a lot done to it and she knows that the inside might be a little sparse too. But everyone does what they need to in order to survive. One car is already there. But not too soon after they climb out of the car, she can hear the rumble of Calum’s bike. She pauses near the front steps, one hand on the railing and watches him. The tires kick up dust and rocks as he swerves into the driveway. He continues on around the house, slowly creeping by. Soon the deep rumble ceases and instead she can hear the crunch of feet against the gravel and dirt.

Calum pulls the helmet up as he rounds the house. “No heat, as far as I could tell.” Everyone exhales. He walks up to her, grin on his cheeks, curls perfectly disheveled from the quick tug up from his helmet. “Jets and a mean jab, got it all don’t you?”

“I shouldn’t have. I just hate his guts. I’m sorry.”

With a shake of his head, Calum takes her hand. “You’re fine. He deserved it anyway.” Her hand trembles in his. “C’mon,” he urges, taking her into the house. 

The decor isn’t as sparse as she thought it would be, the couch has a couple blankets draped over the back of it with end pillows. The cherry wood dining room table has four chairs that match and a small bowl in the center some fruit sits in it. There’s a big shelf with records on it, some books.

The walls a little bare minus some old photos. “It’s not a lot. But we get by,” Calum whispers.

She shakes her head. “Reminds me of the old house. Even the new one we have isn’t too packed. Half the time, money’s going to the diner. The other half, the time’s going there too. Just never seems worth trying to unearth everything.” 

Calum soothes the skin of her hand with his hand. He never considered that, that her life on the outside looked one way. But on the inside it’s way different. It makes sense why she has so many hours at the diner. “What can I do ya for?” he grins.

She laughs. “That’s my line. You can’t go stealing that.”

“Too bad, doll. Looks like I just did. So what can I do ya for?”

“Honestly, at this point a smoke would be nice. But water will do.”

Almost way too sheepishly, Calum reached into his jacket pocket and dangles the pack between his fingers. “I try not to smoke often. It’s not a habit I’m proud of, but if you want one,” he trails off with a shrug. 

It’s tempting. It’s very tempting. Her statement was mostly a joke. But she keeps eying it. So, Calum places the helmet on the couch and hands her the packet. He slips out of his jacket, finding the lighter. She knows she shouldn’t give in. She hasn’t had one in a few weeks. Mostly because her dad would kill her. “I’ll go get us some drinks. Then we can step outside.”

“So we’ve met,” Michael starts, cutting through the awkward silence as Calum shuffles into the kitchen. “I’m Michael.” He points to the blonde to his right. “That’s Luke. Watch out for his limbs.” He then motions to a brunette. “That’s Ashton. Calum and him live together here. I live a few houses down and Luke lives like a street over.”

She smiles at them, still playing at the carton top. “Sorry about missing the movie again.”

“You were way more entertainin’,” Luke laughs. “Besides, we hadn’t gotten tickets just yet, so win-win.”

Ashton’s stare freezes her. It’s somewhere teetering on the edge of the disappointment. “Scold me,” she starts. “You won’t be any worse than my father.”

“I don’t know whether to be impressed or concerned,” Ashton answers truthfully. He’s impressed because he’s only never heard about her, seen her through others eyes. They all call her quiet, reserved, put together. He’s never really laid his own eyes on her. But now, she didn’t really go off the deep end until provoked. He can give her that. She didn’t throw the first punch. Though she made damn sure that she threw the last one though.

Ashton’s concerned because what does this mean for the rest of them. They already have enough of a target on their back. He doesn’t want to make her out to be a villain, but his world’s not easy on her and it won’t be easy on them if they associate with her. “This isn’t against you, it’s just, we’re already so…”

“Alienated. Greasers are low down, dirty, get into fights all the time. You guys are the scary people everyone should run from. And I’m the shit stain on this here great country. We’re both outsiders. I’m just further out of the circle than you. I get it.”

“But you’re sweet, got a little rattle snake in you, but you’re good people,” Ashton counters.He doesn’t want to discredit her by any means. 

“I’m never going to have the best of both worlds. So you best decide now what world you want.”

Ashton watches Calum from the kitchen doorway, a beer in one hand and a coke in the other. “You ever think we could actually fit in Ash? Because if so, you’re a dip stick, the biggest one I’ve ever seen. If you thought just because I wasn’t Black, that you’d somehow could still skate into the white agenda, you were wrong. You can’t choose me and then accept her,” Calum counters. “Won’t ever work.:

“We’re outsiders, we live on the outskirts of town. We weren’t eva’ gonna fit in,” Michael says.

“But do we always have to be behind?” Ashton questions.

She places the pack down on the coffee table. “We will always be behind. And until you accept that, you’re never going to make it forward.”

It makes sense. They were always going to be pushed to the outskirts. They could never make it in. The door wouldn’t open for them. Ashton’s known this, but it was easier to be on the outside and still be white. He could still see the door, could still knock on it. She can’t even get a glance at it. “The world’s never gonna be fair to you,” Ashton sighs. “But the least I can do is be fair to you.”

“I hope it will be one day. Today’s just not the day.”

Ashton stands from the kitchen table, “Care for a beer? Coke? Water?”

“Coke’s fine, thanks.”

“You heard the lady, get her a coke,” he grins as Calum. He can be fair to her. The inside wasn’t meant for them anyhow. What would he gain? Status that all relied on following prescribed rules that meant nothing? That was his whole thing. Following who’s rules? Why follow them? What be the reason for it for him to break one and face backlash? It’s pointless that’s what it is.

“Bring that,” Calum urges, nodding to the pack. She grabs it and follows behind Calum to the back of the house. He points out bathrooms and bedroom. She pokes her head into Calum’s. Lots of posters cover the walls of various musicians. 

“If I ain’t know better I’d say you might be into music.”

“Just a little,” Calum laughs. 

“Too busy boxing now, huh?” She lands a few fake punches to his torso and Calum bows every so slightly at them. Their laughter is soft. 

“I’m trying to keep it clean, legal.”

They settle onto the top step of the back porch and Calum sets the Coke near her feet. She hands him the pack. He taps it twice to his palm before pulling out a cigarette.

“Most people run when they know I fight, but not you.”

“Ain’t most people. And you ain’t the only one that can fight.” 

He shakes his head, lips wrapped around the butt of the nicotine filled paper. Cookie’s got him there. She watches him flick the lighter and the way the flames lick at the paper. She watches the cut of his jaw, the way his hair falls in different directions around head now. “Shouldn’t grease it back so much,” she mutters, hand reaching up to play in it. She stops herself, asking him silently.

He nods. “Go ahead.” The cloud billows from his nose and mouth as he speaks. She drags her nails over his scalp, letting her fingers graze the soft strands. He holds the cigarette out to her. He grins when she hesitates. “I’m willing to share one. But if you’re afraid of cooties, I understand. I did get the shot though.”

She laughs, slapping his arm and takes the paper between her fingers before inhaling the nicotine. “Earlier,” she starts, passing the burning paper back to Calum, “that red light made me think of the cross in my front yard. I’ve got a brother and sister. Both younger than me. I’m terrified for them. They’re going to have same shitty world that I had. We march, we protest and we die. For what?”

“So the world’s not so shitty for them,” Calum exhales.”Maybe, hopefully.”

“Easier said than done.”

“No one said life was easy. Because if so, they’re a goddamn liar.” Calum holds out the cigarette for her, but she shakes her head, going for the bottle at her feet. “I’m sorry about Ashton. He means well. Just a worrier. Thought I had talked sense into him earlier.”

“I’m not upset.” It’s silent, the crickets sounding from the bushes. Calum thinks about all the hate she sees on a daily. How does she do it? He figures it’s not without trouble. They’re all burdened. No one in life gets through it untouched. Everyone has scars.

Calum’s comforted by the silence between them and before he’s realizing he’s talking. The words are just coming out of his mouth. “My parents kicked me out. I wasn’t always here. I mean, I was always other. I was always a fighter though I never liked it. I was always different. But I wasn’t always labeled different, outside.”

“You get by though.”

Calum nods, letting her take the last hit of the cigarette. “Car shop is good cash. How I got my bike. Tutor helps a little. Nearly dropped out, but Ash footed a lot of the expenses. I had to repeat a year, which ain’t the prettiest thing to admit. It took me a while to find a place to stay, wasn’t going to school all too often.”

“I bet that makes the kids feel better. The ones you tutor.” She figured Calum was older, figured that they had meet in English class by some repeat or calculation but she wasn’t sure. 

“It does. They know it’s okay if things take them a bit longer.”

“Thanks. For coming to our side. For helping out. It helps more than you might now.”

“Pleasure’s all mine.” There’s another pause. He watches the smoke float from her lips. “Can I see you again? Maybe actually have an actual date?”

“Telling me sharing a cigarette on your back porch isn’t a date?”

“Exactly,” Calum laughs. He hasn’t even touched his beer. He doesn’t really want it. He brought it just in case she didn’t want the fizzy drink. He’s not too upset about it. One of the other boys will take it no doubt.

They sit outside, way after all the nicotine is inhaled. She rests her head onto Calum’s shoulder. “I vote next date is food. Because every time I see you you not eating!”

“I eat I swear to it!”

“Picnic, my place. You’ll have to excuse the anklebiters if they’re around.”

“Next time, your place. I’ll excuse the anklebiters. If they’re around.” 

The ride back to her house isn’t long. Feels much shorter this time around. The redlight doesn’t shock her system. The wind on her face is welcomed as it blows back Calum’s scent too. He pulls into the driveway and walks her up to the door. 

“Thanks for tonight. Even though it didn’t turn out like we planned.”

Calum shrugs. He enjoys the way it turned out. “Clearly it well enough for me to get a second date.”

“Calum, if I didn’t know better I would say you’re trying to get jacketed.”

He laughs. “I know I want to see you again.” It’s direct and skirts around the going steady tease. Truth be told, he’s not sure about that. But he doesn’t want to completely ruin his chances with her.

The door creaks open a little. “Good night, Calum.”

“Good night, Cookie.” She steps into the house, sending him a small wave. He waves back and waits for the door to close. He had plenty of time, he thinks at his own place to kiss her. Or make some sort of move. But maybe it was better that they just talked, that they spilt guts to each other that they hadn’t let others see just yet. 

Calum starts down the porch when the front door creaks open again. He’s not sure what’s wrong but before he can turn around fully to ask, lips are pressed gently to his cheek. 

“You missed,” Calum teases. Cookie, still bent over, pushes into his cheek and Calum turns to face her completely. Her lips are soft against his and holy hell--it’s happening. Their shared breath is the slight sweet of her Coke and the bitterness of nicotine. 

“Ain’t miss that time,” Cookie teases. Her lips brush against her as she speaks and they linger for what feels like an eternity, lips just centimeters from each other and breathing in the other’s exhales. 

“Wasn’t a footballer, but you’re gunning for that jacket,” Calum whispers. 

“I think I look good in leather,” she hums, brushing her nose over his. 

“Bet you look gorgeous in it.” It leaves him in an exhale. Her chuckle is soft before she straightening back up. She slips into the dark of the house, waving one last time to Calum. 

His boots nearly trip him as he heads down to his bike. Calum can still feel teh ghost of her lips on his. Her nails are still pressing into the flesh of his cheek to keep his head straight. Not like with a kiss like that he wouldn’t have followed her anyway she wanted him to go. 

He’s gonna get in deep with her; he can feel it. And he doesn’t even care. 

[welcomethefears]

Days Away - Bucky Barnes x Reader Soulmate AU - Chapter 8

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4 || Part 5 || Part 6 || Part 7  || Part 8 (This is it)

The afternoon was sunny, with beams of light streaming in through the open windows in the shop. Each flower colored the room, sending pastels and dark colors spiraling throughout the primarily creamy walls. At the front desk of this shop stood a (Tall/Short) girl, resting both elbows on the marble, her head in her hands, and a distant look adorning her (s/c) face. It was a dim afternoon, and today her flower shop wasn’t as busy as it usually was. She let out a soft sigh, feeling the sunlight hit and warm her face. She closed her eyes for a split second, taking in all the warmth that the afternoon offered to her.

“(Y/N), you alright?” A voice asked, snapping the girl out of her daze. Said girl open her (e/c) eyes, her gaze falling on the brunette carrying a pot of pale pink roses. Vanessa had a hand on her hip, her green apron blending in with her dark clothing. Her brown eyes sparkled in the afternoon light, watching carefully over her seemingly younger boss. (Y/N) let a soft smile paint itself across her plump lips, letting a soft hum vibrate through her throat.

“I’m fine, just… thinking,” She stated, her melodic voice floating around the store. Vanessa made her way over to the counter, placing the pot down and grabbing (Y/N)’s right arm. The girl struggled a little as her grey knit shawl was pushed down her arm, revealing her glowing numbers that were ticking now, second by second. It was only 3 days until she met them, her soulmate. She sighed dreamily as she thought about the concept, her other half after all this time. She had waited what felt like centuries, watching as all her friends including Vanessa met their soulmates and became just, astonishingly happy. She never thought it was possible, to suddenly become a humanoid ray of sunshine just by meeting someone, but it was clear to her that soulmates defied this logic she had.

“I knew it! Only 3 days? (Y/N) why didn’t you tell me?” Vanessa reprimanded. (Y/N) rolled her eyes, smile somehow getting warmer at the words. She loved Vanessa, she was one of her closest friends, and one of her best employees. Then again, she only hired the best at her store, with Vanessa being assistant manager and two very reliable teenage girls running the desk after school and on weekends. It was little her own little flower family, and she made sure each person knew how much they were valued. It was small things, like gifting them their favourite flowers on their birthdays or buying them all cookies at Christmas. She ran a tight ship at work, so she needed people to know how much she cared. She shook her head, getting caught in her own thoughts again. She loved those in her life already, how was a soulmate going to affect her?

“Yeah, just 3 more, crazy right? Who knew I would get a soulmate!” She exclaimed in reply, a grin spreading across her face. She was always good at hiding her inner turmoil, covering it with an overexcited exterior. Her personality seemed to match that of a twenty-something-year-old, but in reality, she was around 54 years old, a gift she seemed to inherit from her father. Everyone she knew closely knew this, but she had no clue how this would affect her soulmate, she was old enough to experience turmoil yet not old enough to experience a world war. Would her soulmate be younger than her? An old person? She had no clue, but in a way that excited her, the mystery of it all, so she showed this side of her emotions instead of anything else. Her eyes sparkled as she thought this, Vanessa quickly picking up on it, giggling softly at her friend’s innocence.

“You still manage to act like a child, even though you’re much older than I am,” Vanessa shrugged, smiling at (Y/N) as she moved to her work station, collecting and arranging flowers.

“I can’t help it sorry, being youthful is just… exciting I guess,” (Y/N) trailed off, caught in her own thoughts again as the afternoon sun drifted in. She’d be going home soon, tutoring the kids in the afternoon, and helping to cook dinner for them all. Being around children, especially school-aged mutants was exciting for her, watching them develop their skills and powers, as well as their social skills was a highlight of each day. Thinking about it more, she loved the mansion, with all the staff being like a family when she was away from her father or flower shop. The support she experienced as a child and even now as a fully-fledged adult was something she valued tremendously. Although, with a soulmate coming into the picture did that mean she would have to rely on them? Would they even be reliable? Everything was quickly spiraling, becoming something out of hand, lost in them she was snapped back to reality when Vanessa spoke once again.

“Oh, Wade was asking when he’s allowed to come back to the mansion? Says he wants to have a family dinner with everyone,” Vanessa informed, causing a snort to come from (Y/N).

“Never,” She chortled, memory flashing to the last time Deadpool had invaded an x-men dinner. Many of the younger students invited to join the staff dinner were quickly pushed out of the room, and Charles had not been happy about the language and vulgarity some of them had heard. Although ironically both Ellie (Better known as Negasonic teenage warhead) and Yukio had stayed, Yukio being quite the source of gossip for Wade to tap into.

“Come on, could it really hurt that much? I could come with him if that would help,” Vanessa offered, her own thoughts drifting to her fiancé who was even more childish than the woman in front of her.

“Maybe, as long as you don’t get jealous if he starts flirting with Colossus,” (Y/N) giggled, pressing her thumb across the pale pink petal belonging to the tulip she was holding. Banter like this was nice, a great distraction from the possible mess that was thought to arrive in 3 days.

~*~

“Welcome home!” Kitty yelled, jumping on (Y/N) as soon as she had closed the door behind her. While Kitty was one of the youngest teachers (Having only finished schooling a couple of years prior) she was still treated the same way she was when she was a child, since all the older staff had a soft spot for her. And seemingly, Kitty had a soft spot for (Y/N). Hugging back with just as much intensity, (Y/N) rested her head on Kitty’s shoulder, their brown and (H/C) hair pooling together. Pulling apart and leaving the warmth of each other’s touch, the two shared a smile before Kitty took (Y/N)’s hand, dragging her towards the library in the mansion.

“Some of the students are waiting for us, looks like maths and biology. You’ll be able to handle that, right?” Kitty asked, an innocence emanating in through her words. (Y/N) rolled her eyes at this, playfully shoving Kitty softly.

“Hello, anyone in there? Did you forget my powers again space cadet?” (Y/N) teased, linking her arm with Kitty’s in an affectionate manner. Kitty huffed playfully in response, gripping (Y/N)’s arm back in response.

“Of course, I know, it’s just they’re doing cell theory, not botany!” She exclaimed in reply, shaking her head slightly and causing her brown hair to jump with the movement. The two finally came to the library, finding many students chatting loudly to each other with books hardly touched. (Y/N) raised her eyebrow at this, noting how the students hadn’t noticed either of the two adults. Without a word, (Y/N) raised her hand towards the center of the large table, and slowly out of the wood, a large cactus grew, its sharp needles stretching into every corner she allowed it to reach. The students took note of this quickly, turning their attention to the (tall/short) figure which had caused it to occur. (Y/N) smiled lightly, watching over the silent children finally paying attention.

“So, what are we helping with today?” (Y/N) asked, a sweet grin on her face as she looked over all the students before her.

~*~

“Did you really have to grow a cactus on the tables, you could have just called out to them?” Kitty asked, walking down one of the long halls in the mansion with (Y/N). The two had just finished tutoring all the students, a successful session in (Y/N)’s eyes, but so was anytime a student’s face lit up with understanding. Being with others, especially children was always a fun experience for (Y/N), because as much as she looked young if it weren’t for her childish personality it was likely she’d be like her father, a grumpy old man. The students provided an insight into the younger generations, a connection she doubted she would have outside the girls in her flower shop. It wasn’t just that though, it was the fact that the mansion acted as a surrogate family for all these children, a place where they were safe and free to be themselves, and in a way that allowed (Y/N) to do the same. Shrugging her shoulders, she was already back in the moment, her air-headed tendencies pushed aside.

“I felt like it, plus no one really has a mutation like mine, so it’s always nice to show off what I’ve got,” She replied lightly, finally reaching the dining room with Kitty. It was pretty empty seeing as all the kids had eaten already, as well as the teachers who were monitoring them. Not only that, but tonight wasn’t an official dinner, the sort where all the x-men spent the evening together. However, a familiar figure sat at the x-men table alone, her white hair tumbling down her back and contrasting with her rich dark skin. (Y/N)’s face lit up as she saw her best friend, rushing forward to the dining table.

“Ororo! It’s good to see you!” She laughed, engulfing her friend in a hug. Ororo hugged back just as strong, the two laughing quietly to each other. Pulling away they shared a smile, and (Y/N) noticed the age on her face. Sometimes it was hard to acknowledge the fact, but not aging certainly put a damper on some of her relationships. The nature of her powers meant that her healing could only be used on her family and soulmate, so every once in a while, she’d be reminded of this, simply by looking at her aging best friend. It was hard, watching those she was connected to lose their spark and die, but so was the life of a mutant with healing powers. At least she’d always have Deadpool to talk to, knowing she was one of the few who enjoyed his company.

“You saw me last night, what’s the big deal?” Ororo asked, raising an eyebrow at her youthful friend. (Y/N) seemed to fidget at this, not wanting to admit either her thoughts or her dilemma. Ororo didn’t even flinch, a knowing look in her eyes.

“Not long to go I’m guessing?” Ororo asked, pulling up her own sleeve to show off her numbers, slowly ticking down each second. She was close too, but not as close as (Y/N). Automatically (Y/N) copied her friends’ action, pulling her own sleeve up to reveal her mark, glowing brightly on her (s/c) skin.

“Only 3 days, you lucky girl,” Ororo chuckled, rolling her sleeve down as (Y/N) did the same.

“Oh. My. God! Only 3 days, why didn’t you tell me (Y/N)?! Have you told anyone!?” Kitty asked, jumping up and down in excitement behind the two. (Y/N) rubbed the back of her head in embarrassment, letting out a strained laugh.

“I’ve only told Vanessa at the flower shop and now you guys, more than anything I didn’t want to tell my dad, you know how he can be like when it comes to me,” She huffed out softly in reply, dropping her hand and letting it run through her (H/C) hair.

“What am I like?” Came the voice, interrupting the girl talk in the dining room. (Y/N) turned towards the voice, Wolverine walking casually into the room as if nothing was the matter at all. He came over to (Y/N) first, ruffling her hair affectionately.

“How’s my little Howlett going?” Logan asked, standing beside the group of girls.

“Fine, Dad, how was the camp?” (Y/N) asked in reply, sweating under her collar at his sudden appearance.

“Yeah it was fine, some of the little runts had trouble setting up tents, but other than that they were pretty capable.” He informed. (Y/N) looked between the two girls, an obvious difference in their reactions. Kitty watched on fearfully as well, looking as if to keep the secret. Ororo however, looked on encouragingly, waiting for (Y/N) to take the mature option. Swallowing her fears, (Y/N) finally spoke up.

“Dad, I’m meeting my soulmate in 3 days,” She informed, watching as her father’s face morphed into one of surprise.

“Oh,” His reply was simple, and the room was frozen in anticipation. All the girls were quiet, and with the air becoming thicker (Y/N) noticed Kitty slowly sink through the floor, escaping the awkward situation. ‘Damn her,’ (Y/N) thought to herself. Storm seemingly held eye contact with both parties on and off, struggling to decide who needed her attention most.

“Well, dad?” (Y/N) tentatively asked, hoping to pull some answer from him.

“Well… I’m happy for you little Howlett. Hard to believe you’re growing up,” Logan huffed out half-heartedly, making eye-contact with his daughter, a soft smile overtaking his lips no matter how hard he tried to keep up his gruff exterior. (Y/N) let out a sigh of relief, happy enough to at least get that titbit of approval, but knowing her father this wouldn’t be the last she heard of the matter.

“I’m 54 years old now dad, you don’t have to baby me anymore,” (Y/N) giggled with a roll of her eye, squealing as her father suddenly grabbed her in his arms, feeling her (h/c) hair being ruffled around once again. While a small gesture, the short contact she had with her father like this meant everything. He hadn’t meant to, she always thought, hadn’t meant to leave her in the care of the X-men for her childhood, but that was just how it was. So moments like this, when he was actually in her life, and his contact kept her in reality, meant practically the universe.

“Yeah, but ya act like one, might as well treat ya like one,” Logan grinned, letting his daughter go from his arms. (Y/N) found herself unsure of how she felt about this, in one way she felt like she needed the contact, something to lean on, yet leaving her father’s arms was her future still to come. Logan muttered a quick goodnight, snapping (Y/N) from her trance as she whispered the same back. She watched as he left, yet she felt no weight off her shoulders. He knew now, that was great, but something still wasn’t right.

“Earth to (Y/N), you going to stand here all night or head to bed, it’s already 10 pm and you have work tomorrow, right?” Ororo asked, placing a shoulder delicately on her shoulder. The warmth presented was inviting, and (Y/N) realized that it was something she always craved, but seemingly more so lately. This soulmate business was certainly getting to her.

“Hmm? Oh yes, I do, I’ll follow you towards the rooms,” (Y/N) answered simply, trying to hide her disappointment when Ororo’s hand left her shoulder.

“Hey, to celebrate your soulmate do you want to get some coffee tomorrow. That little place a couple of blocks from your work? It’s the only time I’m free with everything going on, and I’m sure Vanessa can handle the shop for a while,” Ororo suggested, making (Y/N)’s (e/c) eyes light up with joy. She nodded vigorously, excitement overtaking her in a child-like manner.

“That sounds wonderful! I can’t wait to see you, then I can finally sit down and have a good talk with you,” (Y/N) suggested. Spending time with Storm as a normal civilian was almost a dream come true oddly enough.

The two finally parted ways at (Y/N)’s room, and after saying goodnight for the final time, she softly closed her door. Her room had become her own at the mansion after a couple of decades of living in it. A permanent resident she seemed to be, and not that she minded but it wasn’t truly hers. It was Charles’ home, it was the children’s home. But not hers. With these thoughts clouding her mind as she pulled her quilt over herself, she couldn’t help but let the storm in her mind to wander towards her soulmate. (Y/N) had hardly had a boyfriend let alone felt love truly for anyone but her friends. Yet, she was optimistic. Surely a soulmate was like the legends, another half to herself, a completion to her as a person. With hope she thought about them, wondering what they were like, who they could be if they liked mutants. Thoughts about her fated swam around, clouding all judgment she had as she was lulled into slumber. Before she finally drifted off, she made a quiet promise.

To do anything for her soulmate, even move the heavens if she had to.

Taglist: (I lost it I’m so sorry, please message me if you wanna be tagged)

[raleighcarrera]

saturday

ride or die | colt kaneko x mc (ellie wheeler)

~2.2k words | T

baby you look good, you look gorgeous / this right here your city, i’m a tourist

or, alternatively, ellie shows colt around the east coast. for @choicesjunechallenge day one! (wander)

rod tags: @choicesarehard, @lovehugsandcandy

they were invisible, out here. in manhattan, ellie was probably always at least a little invisible, but there was a certain freedom in knowing that absolutely no one was looking twice at him or them -- that they had a whole uninterrupted weekend to explore stretched out ahead of them. 

back home, he was starting to reach a level of notoriety that brought few places he could go without attracting stares with it. the new crew was coming together faster than he thought it would, and colt was admittedly pretty pleased with his progress, so far. when ellie came back home for the summer, there might actually be something to show her. something that might even have a shot at impressing her. 

her anonymity would evaporate as soon as he got the chance to show her off, back in l.a. -- so he figured they might as well take full advantage of this weekend, making the most of their time as nobodies while they still could. 

ellie lifted the hand that wasn’t twined through his and pointed up at a nondescript building on the corner, just a block from her apartment. “this is one of the buildings i have classes in,” she explained, “my biochem lab and my stats class are both in here.”

“you know, if you’d been at my college, maybe i wouldda considered hanging around.” there were few things he cared about less than the ins and outs of her coursework, but the thought of ellie in some lecture hall, with her nose buried in a book was something that never failed to endear him to her. she was almost unfairly cute.

“what, there weren’t any girls you liked in boston?” she asked playfully, shooting him a look as they waited at the corner for the light to turn. 

“there were plenty of girls,” he smirked, “but i wouldn’t say i liked them.” what he means goes unsaid, but he knows ellie is smart enough to read between the lines: she’s the only person to ever do this to him, the only girl he’s actually made room in his life for. 

she’d wormed her way in so effectively he’d hardly even noticed it. try as he might to push her away, she was always there -- challenging him when he did his best to shove her to the side with calculated barbs, comforting him when he didn’t think it was what he wanted at all, caring for him when he hardly felt like deserved it. 

before her, he hadn’t been interested in anything like this. people were always a disappointment -- without fail, anyone who could get close would find a way to take advantage. feeling the way he did about her was messy and painful and not something he was keen on exploring, at first. he knew it’d be a disaster from the moment he met her, but ellie didn’t let herself be deterred by a few casual insults. she dug her fucking heels in and blended into his life seamlessly, until he found himself in a suit dancing with her at her high school prom like an unrecognizable idiot. 

only a moron with no sense of self-preservation would’ve told her they loved her, so of course he had. for the longest time, it felt like he was waiting for the other shoe to drop -- for her to change her mind, for her to do what he’d long since expected and make him regret ever forcing himself to take that step out of his self-imposed isolation and into the sun. 

but ellie was nothing if not a master at proving him wrong -- at making him eat his words. at defying the expectations of everyone around her, including him, sometimes, when he was dumb enough to underestimate her.

the way she was tugging on their clasped hands recaptured his attention, shaking him out of his reverie. “this place has the best dollar pizza. there’s, like, forty pizzerias within a ten-minute walk but this one is the best and cheapest. during midterms i ate here twice a day for two weeks straight.”

“sounds like you’re getting spoiled,” he remarked, dropping her hand to wrap his arm around her shoulders, instead, pulling her in close on the sidewalk. “what’re you gonna do when it’s back to l.a. burgers and tacos all the time?”

“i do kinda miss the street food,” she mused, leaning against his side. he’d been all over her last night, when he first arrived, relearning the curve of her body with his hands and his mouth over and over again, hardly able to get enough of her after so long without the real thing. pictures and videos and late-night facetimes were all well and good, but nothing could make his heart leap like pulling her into his arms in person. finally.

he still hadn’t had his fill, but she was adamant about showing him around the city, so -- they got out of bed. and even if they stayed inside all weekend, colt was certain they still wouldn’t be able to get through even half of everything he wanted to do to her.

“oh!” she exclaimed suddenly, guiding him to the right with the arm she had around his waist. he dipped his head on a smile he just couldn’t hold back when she slipped her hand into the back pocket of his jeans. “this was what i wanted to show you, come on.”

they ducked into an alcove between what looked like two office buildings. there was a small fountain and a few abandoned tables -- for a moment, they were completely alone, under an arch of spring flowers that provided a brief respite from the bustle of midtown, waiting for them just beyond the sidewalk. 

“i always come here to study. i feel like it’s so peaceful.” ellie was smiling up at the flowers, hardly paying him any attention -- so colt took a moment to let himself look, studying the sweet expression on her face with a smile. it’d been so long that he’d almost forgotten how beautiful she was, if that was even possible. but seeing her here, now, was like a kick to the stomach; she knocked the wind out of him just by doing nothing, just by being herself -- every goddamn time.

“it’s pretty cool,” he agreed, forcefully tearing his eyes from her to look around, too. “i mean -- we’re alone, so.”

ellie laughed, turning under his arm to face him. “is that all it takes for you?”

colt shrugged the shoulder she wasn’t tucked under, shooting her a wide grin. “what can i say? i’m a simple guy.”

“well -- we knew that.” she squirmed away giggling as he pushed her playfully in retaliation, rushing over to the far side of the fountain. colt followed, stepping up behind her and wrapping his arms around her waist from behind, burying his face in the side of her neck.

he exhaled. there weren’t words for how relaxing it was to know he didn’t need to look over his shoulder, here, with her. for once, there was almost nothing on his mind -- just the blissful peace of a weekend spent with his favorite person. some of the leaden weight that seemed to be perpetually pushing on his shoulders was slowly starting to ease as he stood there with her, under the curtain of the peonies above them.

colt fished in his pocket for a quarter, offering it to her. “wanna make a wish?” 

ellie took it from his hand immediately. “you’re getting soft on me,” she murmured, huffing out a small sound of amusement when he nipped at the side of her neck in return. colt hooked his chin over her shoulder, watching as she flipped the coin into the fountain. 

“what’d you wish for?” he asked, just so he could see her do what she did, which was spin around indignantly in his hold, scoffing.

“i can’t tell you! then it won’t come true.”

he rolled his eyes at her. “that rule isn’t real.”

“well, i don’t want to risk it.” 

colt lifted both hands to her face, cupping her cheeks and drawing her in for a slow kiss. ellie melted against him prettily, as responsive as ever -- how sensitive she was never failed to light a fire somewhere within him that he had trouble ignoring. the little sigh that slipped from her mouth into his felt like water after walking through a desert, and he swallowed it greedily, tilting her face up with fingers at her jaw for an angle that would allow him to deepen their kiss insistently. 

ellie entertained him until she had to break away to breathe. he backed off at the first push of her hands, the expression on his face splitting into an obnoxious grin as soon as he noticed the light flush spreading out across her nose, creeping onto her cheeks. the way her nose turned red every time they made out, without fail, would probably never stop being absurdly appealing to him.

that was another annoying thing she’d done to him. colt constantly found his brain getting stuck on the most absurd shit, where she was concerned. things he’d never even thought about before, like an errant lock of hair, curling into her eyes, or the flash of a bare shoulder when her oversized sweater slipped down suddenly seemed more erotic than porn, just because it was her. 

“you’re gorgeous,” he mumbled, pressing his thumbs into her flushed cheeks. “i can’t stand it.”

ellie was still working to catch her breath, instilling him with a sense of pride he didn’t bother trying to push away. “sorry. i can try to work on that.”

“you’d better.” his eyes dropped to where her hands were fisted in the front of his sweatshirt, clinging tightly to him like she was afraid he’d slip away at any moment. colt could feel the expression on his face soften the longer he watched her, the pounding of his heart ratcheting up dangerously when she licked her lips and glanced up at him seriously.

“i’m really glad you’re here,” she said finally, shattering the sudden stillness that seemed to have surrounded them -- in the middle of manhattan, of all places. “you have no idea how badly i missed you.”

colt’s thumb stroked her cheek. he was pretty sure he had some idea. “you’re sure i can’t convince you to transfer, right? ‘cause... ucla is, like, a twenty minute drive on my bike --”

ellie laughed. the sweet trill of sound did little to temper his racing pulse. “shut up, come on. there’s so much more i want to show you.”

he let her spend the rest of the day playing tour guide, pulling him around the city, until they’d eventually wandered into some unfamiliar neighborhood downtown, far enough away from the main avenues that the foot traffic on the sidewalk was considerably less. finally, they could take their time, instead of ducking out of the way to avoid the rushing speed of people in a hurry, ignoring glares from busy new yorkers disgusted by the way they kept stopping to kiss in the middle of the crosswalk. 

colt bought her an ice cream cone because her excitement was too cute to ignore, grinning to himself as he snuck glances over at her, enjoying it. it was going to be pretty much impossible to tear himself away from her on sunday night, but he was trying not to think about that.

“anything special you want to do tonight?” she asked between licks, drawing his eyes to the way her wrist flicked to keep the swirl of vanilla soft serve even all the way around. 

“i have a few ideas.” she caught sight of the smirk on his face and rolled her eyes. “i’m open to suggestions, though.”

“well -- i did have a place in mind for dinner,” she said, though he hardly heard her over the way she licked a trail of melting ice cream from her wrist, “and then i thought we could walk around some more... and turn in early.”

“you know, that’s exactly what i was thinking,” he answered with an agreeable grin, already fantasizing about just how late she’d allow him to keep her up and all the things he could do to her with several uninterrupted hours holed away in her single. a part of him he did his best to ignore most of the time was also already dreaming about the inevitable lazy sunday morning that would follow, when he could wake up with her for the second time in too fucking long and put all his energy into keeping her in bed until the last possible minute. 

that guy was such a sap.

“should i be afraid of that look?” ellie questioned with a smile, the happy expression on her face doing wonders for his already calm mood. they continued slowly down the street in a direction that he thought might’ve been back towards her dorm, though once they dipped below the numbered streets all sense of navigation seemed to abandon him. whatever. it wasn’t like they didn’t have time to wander aimlessly some more, and he wasn’t too proud to admit he loved getting lost with ellie by his side.

colt grinned unabashedly at her, watching her finish off her ice cream cone with a few bites. fuck it. they were invisible here, so why not let himself indulge that other guy? once he was back in l.a., all of this was done for -- he’d be back to his rough edges like they never softened in the first place.

“nah,” he promised, reaching out for her again and pulling her in close, dropping a kiss onto her temple. “we’ll carb you up at dinner. you’ll make it through.”

[unlockthelore]

Enough

While celebrating Hiei’s homecoming, Kurama receives a bit of disturbing news and a bittersweet ending.

Part of the Smile Bomb series. For more updates, follow the smile bomb tag on this blog.

Homecomings are one of Kurama’s favorite parts of Hiei’s work.

Though the fire demon often returned to their home in Ningenkai at odd hours of the night, he always roused Kurama from sleep to announce his presence.

Ordinarily, it would unwise to wake a slumbering fox.

However Kurama could hardly be angry with Hiei when lingering kisses and warm hands wandered about his body as if it were a delicacy sorely missed.

Murmured words exchanged between unhurried kisses. Gasps and stifled moans rendering apologies moot, but no less appreciated. It’s difficult to ease from Hiei’s embrace as they roll about silken sheets. Hands and lips finding shoulders, chests, and arms as if the dance was new and they had not yet learned the steps.

It isn’t until the early morning and a gurgling groan from Kurama’s stomach that Hiei releases him, rolling his eyes toward the wide windows displaying their home’s backyard and a generous view of the lightening sky. In a flourish of blankets and clothing which leaves Kurama cold for a brief stint but no less endeared, the fire demon rose, and left their room in a blur.

Kurama tossed their comforter aside, brushing his fingers against the fresh marks along his collar and his chest, halting the flow of his youki to let them sting for and set for awhile longer. Down the hall, the quiet creak of a door opening brings a smile to his face. He isn’t the only one who missed Hiei’s presence, and from the way his husband’s presence lingers in the doorway, the feeling was mutual.

Kurama dressed slower than he normally would, allowing Hiei to soak in the presence of their sons, stillness provided by a quiet only achieved by slumber.

Time had given them much in the way of family and friends. Moments spent with the others, reminiscing in begotten victories and losses, blunders both hilarious and frightening yet no less evident of the message beneath. They were a family. Creating their own paths, true, but never straying far from one another. Yet, in making their own path, he and Hiei brought two souls into the world at the same time.

Twin boys who were not doted on by their fire-father but utterly adored.

Stepping out into the hall, Kurama folded his arms at his waist and watched as Hiei stealthily crept from the room with soundless footsteps. A backward glance and a flash of violet in crimson eyes as the door was eased shut behind him, settling in place with a light click. It isn’t until Hiei looked back at him, crimson eyes glowing in the dim light provided by the shoji, that Kurama allowed himself to smile.

“Are they well?” He asked, attempting to keep the amusement from his voice as Hiei ambled past. A small smirk quirking his lips at the outline of teeth marks almost hidden beneath the long black locks sweeping against Hiei’s nape.

“Asahi was trapped in his blankets again,” Hiei murmured plainly, as if wholly uninterested, but the undercurrent of laughter almost made him sound snide.

“Like father, like son, as they say.”

Kurama chuckled softly, falling in step beside him just as Hiei shot him a sidelong glare, wholly ineffective with all the years he’d been on the receiving end of them.

The halls of their home were wide enough they could walk abreast with ample room but Kurama strayed closed to Hiei’s side, brushing their fingers together every so often. After the fourth stride, calloused fingers grasp his own in a tight squeeze. Hiei’s glare, strong enough to coax flames to burn, rendered Kurama unable to hold back the grin he’d been stifling.

Pink dusted the fire demon’s cheeks, notable even in the muted colors of the early morn. His gaze averted sharply as they wandered from their room to the kitchens. Kurama squeezing Hiei’s hand and eyeing him all the while. Saccharine warmth coated his tongue. Desire begs him to pull Hiei closer and slip his hand around those broad shoulders. Yet, it was bellied by exhaustion and the delicious pain in his lower back. Nevertheless, Kurama felt happy enough that he lifted Hiei’s hand to his mouth, rewarded with a quick glance as his lips brushed along heated knuckles.

A sharp inhale and squeeze, claws scratching lightly against the side of his hand as he lowered their joined fingers with a pleased smile. Hiei glaring ahead though the glow from the tip of his ears pinking told Kurama all he needed.

The kitchen was a welcomed sight and while Hiei peeled away from his side to perch on the counter, scratching his nails idly against the grain, Kurama sifted through the cupboards for a blend reserved solely for homecomings. The early morning sun streamed through the kitchen window, a few vines curled on its sill bask in the warmth, slipping beneath the cracks in the pane. Kurama set the tea kettle in the sink beginning to fill it while Hiei fed his vines youki from each of his fingers. Greedily, the plants soaked in the warmth and welcomed the fire demon home by wrapping around his offered arm from fingertip to wrist.

Alarmed, Hiei turned to Kurama who offered naught but a cheery smile.

Hiei scowled, nonplussed. “Tell them to release me, fox.”

“You were missed, Hiei. Allow them to reacquaint themselves.”

Hiei rolled his eyes, staring down at the vines scoldingly. “It wasn’t long.”

“Ah, but that didn’t stop you from reacquainting yourself with me,” Kurama pointed out, delighting in the fresh coat of pink coloring Hiei’s cheeks. Sputtered words lost in a discernible grumble of words split from a koōrime dialect and expletives from the youko. Kurama hummed, somewhat impressed.

So he had been paying attention. Although Kurama wished Hiei had learned amorous words over the crude, but small victories were to be celebrated. With the kettle filled and set on the stove to heat, he scooped tea leaves into a cup for himself. “You haven’t spoken about your travels,” Kurama said, setting it aside then leaning against the empty counter space. “Is Mukuro well?”

A hum buzzed low in Hiei’s throat, his gaze distant. Kurama’s fingers twitched against the crook of his elbow, his propped up arm set beneath his chin, fist balled and clutched tight as he waited. Hiei was prone to moments like this. Eyes narrowed in contemplation, elsewhere though his body was there at Kurama’s side. It wasn’t until the kettle screamed, steam coloring the dust particles caught in the peach-light of the morning sun that Hiei spoke.

“Human villages were sighted in Makai…”

Kurama’s brow raised. Hiei’s eyes flicked toward him and the kettle’s screaming filled the silence.

The Jagan glowed violet beneath Hiei’s ward and Kurama glimpsed the kettle lifting out the corner of his eye, set on an unused top.

“When the Boundary was created, Reikai neglected to check if there were humans trapped on the other side,” Hiei murmured, seeming displeased from the deadened tone and half-roll of his eyes. “Enki’s council believes they should be extradited to Ningenkai.”

Kurama tilted his head, frowning slightly. Extradited. A pleasant term to use in place of exiled. “Generations must have lived in Makai,” he said, pouring the boiling water into his cup, steam rising and curling beneath his nose. “I can’t imagine that would be fair to enthusiasts.”

Hiei snorted.

Enthusiasts, another pleasant term for those few privy to knowledge of Makai and hungry for more. While demons were gradually being introduced into Ningenkai it was decided amidst Reikai and Makai officials that information be handled delicately. No need to start another war. Yet, withholding knowledge and thus progress, seemed to be kindling sentiments towards such a notion.

Once his tea was properly stepped, Kurama set it down to cool and threaded his fingers, elbows resting on the counter and chin set atop of them. “What do you believe?” He asked, glancing up to Hiei’s relaxed visage.

The fire demon quirked a brow at him, seeming confused. “Does it matter?”

“You are Mukuro’s second in command.”

Hiei scoffed. “Kings are no more, Yuusuke saw to that.”

“Five hundred years of in-fighting and loyalty won’t change in a matter of a few years, Hiei.”

“You did.”

Kurama arched a brow. It dawned upon him for the umpteenth time that his own views of himself were much different than Hiei’s. He wondered how Hiei viewed him and the changes that he’d been experiencing, before and after their meeting. Though they knew much of each other’s lives, there were numerous mysteries to explore.

“You’re avoiding the question, you know,” Kurama continued, resting his hands flat against the counter as he stood upright, squarely meeting Hiei’s gaze.

Keen eyes narrowed at him before their owner took a long breath, glancing aside pointedly. “With good reason.”

Answering his curiosity was the sound of tiny footsteps, pattering lightly with a slow uneven gait, and a deep yawn. It was their second son, Asahi, who stepped into the doorway, no older than four or five years of age, with disheveled red hair stuck up at odd angles reminding Kurama of Hiei when he’d just rolled out of bed. Small hands rubbed grit from closed eyes, pursed lips downturned into a firm pout as he groaned and stumbled into the kitchen.

“Well, hello,” Kurama greeted cheerily, affection budding in his chest as the boy padded over to him and pressed his face against his legs. Clutching fistfuls of his pants’ leg sweetly in tiny fists. “You’re up early…”

Asahi sniffled, taking a short while to linger before he tipped his head up, eyes opening into slits revealing crimson ones blearily staring up at him. “Papa…” He murmured, twisting his head one way then the other before finally noticing Hiei. The fire demon staring down at him, seeming extremely amused, but hiding it beneath an impassive veneer.

In spite of the lack of a warm countenance, Asahi smiled with innocent and unabashed affection. “Welcome back…”

Kurama glanced up at Hiei and saw the moment when the fire demon’s veneer cracked. Affection glinted in the faint smile, his hand offered to Asahi’s waiting arms, lifting him up onto the counter to perch on Hiei’s knee. While their son practically buried himself in Hiei’s chest, hands clutching the sides of his tank-top, Hiei rested his mouth against his hair.

“I’m home,” muttered in a voice almost too soft for Kurama to catch.

Turning his head away to allow them their moment, Kurama reached up for another cup, this time one that was smaller. It wouldn’t be long before Asahi wanted his own tea. “Why don’t you tell Papa what you did yesterday, Asa?”

“Kurama.”

With a curious glimpse at the pair, Kurama’s hand fell as he noticed his cup in the grasp of their son. Steam still pouring from its rim but the bottom of it tipped upward as the contents were downed. A thin sheen coating Asahi’s upper lip as it was lowered, his sleepy expression replaced with one of contentment and joy.

Hiei chuckled throatily, patting down their son’s tousled hair and Kurama sighed.

Well, at least he could always make another. The questions of the realms could be saved for another day, as well.

For now, this was enough.

[ila9182]

Hey! Shandy + 3. Thank youuu!

Hey anon, thank you so much for sending me this prompt ask! It’s an AU set in the Closer era, somewhere around season 7. I hope you will enjoy it!!

As always, mistakes are all mine.

For anyone who wants to send an ask, here is my post with the prompt list. Feel free to send me your request! Thank you so much!

——————————–

3. “You’re not hurting me, you’re not heavy. I’ve got you, love.”

Casualties at a crime scene, officers involved was the only communication Sharon had received from Lieutenant Staples. She had merely nodded, aware of the gravity of the matter and let out a sigh. She put down her purse and sat at her desk again. She needed to wait for some more updates to know if her presence at the crime scene was required. It was going to be a long night and Sharon knew that she wouldn’t go home any time soon. So much for her cozy evening with take-out food, cuddled on the couch with Andy…

Sharon smirked at the thought, Lieutenant Andy Flynn… They had been secretly together for more than a year. Their relationship had started as an uncomplicated one, just two coworkers unwinding after work, but before they had even realized, feelings had gotten in the way and all of a sudden they were discussing how much place they needed in each other’s closet for a change of clothes and essentials. Who would have thought that the hotheaded Lieutenant Flynn would show himself to be a loving and considerate boyfriend?

Her phone vibrated, interrupting Sharon’s train of thought and she froze when she read the text. It was a merely official communication but it was enough to stop her breathing, Major Crimes division involved, it said. Her mind went blank for a few seconds before she hurriedly looked for Andy’s number on her phone and called him.

Pick up, please, Sharon repeated in her mind like a mantra. Her heart thudded with each unanswered ring and when Andy’s phone went finally to voicemail, she felt like her heart skipped a beat. Sharon slowly stood from her chair, not really trusting her legs. She was shaking, her whole body was. She took a deep breath as her trembling hands reached for her trench coat. She put it on and grabbed her purse. She couldn’t wait for new updates, she couldn’t stay secluded in her office as the day could turn to be one of the worst of her life. With one last glance at her desk, she hurriedly walked out, her phone still in her hand.

Once in the elevator, Sharon tried to call Andy again. Pick up, please.It rang and rang and rang and each time, her heart rate hitched up another two beats. Her panic grew and her control began to crack. Her call remained unanswered and Sharon felt dizzy at the thought that maybe… She couldn’t bring herself to think that way. Sharon drew in a shaky breath and put her phone in the pocket of her trench coat as she opened her car door and got in.

————————

The crime scene was crowded. The blue and red flashing lights of the ambulances and police cars pierced the dark night. Paramedics and police officers blended into one crowd going back and forth aimlessly. Sharon had received a few updates during the drive, none of these satisfying. She had learnt very little; gunfire during a suspect’s apprehension, at least one death and two injured. Sharon got out of the car and jogged to the yellow tape delimiting the area.

Please God, let him be okay, please was the only thought echoing in her mind.

Here she was, Captain Sharon Raydor, head of the FID showing up flustered at a crime scene. She was an idiot, she surely looked ridiculous. She could already picture the rumors going around the office about Captain Raydor losing it at a crime scene. She couldn’t allow that. She needed to look unperturbed, so she took a deep breath and put her brave face on, even though she felt like she was dying inside.

Sharon glanced towards the street to what seemed to be the suspect’s house. She saw Julio stepping out of the house, a hand on his shoulder. Provenza was right after him, shaking his head, as he joined Julio and put a hand on his coworker’s other shoulder to stop the detective in his rant. Brenda walked to the two men and talked briefly with Julio, probably convincing him to get checked. Sharon’s assumption was right because it took a few more minutes before Brenda led the detective toward an ambulance. Sharon’s panic grew when she spotted the mortuary van, but she shook her head in an attempt to keep her emotions in check and went back staring at the house. That was when she saw him. Andy. He was walking out of the house, Tao supporting him under the arm. Andy didn’t seem to agree with the extra support and he seemed to be complaining, but Sharon couldn’t help but notice that Andy stood hunched and that his right upper arm seemed to be injured. Sharon stood on her tiptoes trying to see over the crowd and get a better look at Andy. A paramedic had joined the two men and now Andy was gesturing frantically with his uninjured arm. He was cursing, no doubt about it. He then lifted his gaze and looked toward the street. That was when his eyes met hers. Sharon knew Andy had seen her, the faint smile crossing his features only confirming it. She nodded to him before taking a few steps back and walking back to her car.

———————–

“Sharon?” Andy called to her as soon as he opened the front door of the condo. He stepped in and closed the door behind him, leaving the keys on the console in the foyer. “Sharon?”

Andy had tried to call her as soon as he was back to the PAB after he got checked at the hospital – Chief had insisted, threatening him with desk duty if he would have refused. Sharon didn’t answer any of his calls, so he decided to join her at the condo as they had agreed on the day before. Andy was glad he had convinced Provenza he was able to drive home with his own car – asking jokingly Provenza to tuck him up in bed had been a great way to discourage the older Lieutenant from driving Andy home.

Andy heard the sound of a sliding door and saw Sharon come in, closing the balcony door behind her. “Hey…” Andy greeted her with a small smile.

“Hey…” Sharon replied in a soft whisper. She didn’t near him. She stood motionless, studying Andy in silence. He had taken his leather jacket off and she immediately noticed the dried blood and the tear on the right sleeve of his grey shirt. She could spot the white bandage wrapped around his upper arm and she sighed. It’s just a graze, Sharon, she repeated to herself, hoping it would make the lump in her throat disappear.

“I’m okay, Sharon. Bullet just grazed my arm, I’m fine.” Andy reassured her as he took a few steps toward her. “It’s not a big deal.”

Sharon shook her head and rolled her eyes at him. Of course Andy would downplay the whole situation. She walked to join him and replied, irony in her voice, a smirk on her lips, “Oh you know, honey, same old same old. I went to work this morning, got shot in the evening…”

“Exactly.” Andy chuckled as he opened his arms for her.

Sharon threw Andy a skeptical look and studied his face as if she wanted to make sure he had told her the whole truth. She slid her arms delicately around him and whispered, “You’re an idiot, Andrew Flynn.”

“Hey, what did I do?” Andy exclaimed as he wrapped his arms around her, “It’s not my f-…” He hissed involuntarily and flinched as Sharon pressed her body against his.

“Andy?” Sharon asked worriedly and she slowly pulled away, her hands brushing his side. Her hand stopped on his belly as she felt something through the fabric of his shirt. Sharon arched an eyebrow and before Andy could say something, she lifted his shirt to reveal a white bandage. She gasped as she stared at him with worried eyes.

“Sharon… it’s nothing…” Andy started, but he stopped talking when Sharon looked up to glare at him. She then focused back on the bandage and gently brushed a hand over it. “Okay…” Andy sighed, aware that he had no other choice than to tell her the truth. “I’ve been shot, but I had my bulletproof vest on, so…” He immediately reassured her, but Sharon threw him another death stare over the rim of her glasses. “I have some cold patches for the bruising, that’s why I’m wrapped up like a burrito…” Andy tried to make it come off as a joke, but he knew he had failed the moment he met Sharon’s stern eyes. “Hey, come here…” He whispered to her softly, pulling her against him.

Sharon snuggled against him carefully and hugged him back. She sighed and pulled away after a few seconds, “Uhm, excuse me, Andy… just make yourself comfortable, I’ll be back shortly.” She added gesturing toward the couch.

Andy stood speechless in the middle of the living room as he watched Sharon walk away and disappear in the hallway. Just make yourself comfortable, I’ll be back shortly… It almost felt like a doctor appointment. Just take a seat, the doctor will be with you shortly. Andy shook his head and arched an eyebrow. It was odd. Sharon was odd. He sat down on the couch slowly, paying attention to his sore abdomen, as he waited for Sharon to come back.

Andy kept staring toward the hallway. Sharon was nowhere to be seen. More than twenty minutes had gone by and Andy couldn’t wait anymore. He had a feeling that what had happened to him had upset her more than she had let him show. He had to check on her. Andy stood from the couch and walked toward the bedroom. He was surprised to see that she wasn’t in there. He then heard the water running in the bathroom and for a split second he thought that he was maybe overreacting… until he heard a muffled sob. Sharon had left the bathroom door ajar and Andy hesitantly pushed it open. His eyes scanned the room and he saw her, sitting on the floor, her back leaning against the bathroom vanity. She was crying and hugging her knees to her chest. Andy now understood why she had run away from him and hidden in the bathroom. She didn’t want to break down in front of him. The thought that he had caused her so much pain made his heart twitch.

“Hey babe…” Andy whispered softly as he approached her slowly.

“Go away.” Sharon’s voice was incredibly firm despite the tears that were rolling down her cheeks. She didn’t even bother to look at him.

Andy shook his head at her stubbornness and walked to the sink to turn the faucet off. Andy carefully crouched down, wincing in pain and trying to hide it as much as possible. He then sat next to her on the floor and glanced at Sharon. She was resting her forehead on her knees, ignoring him even if she was aware he was sitting right next to her.

“Sharon…” Andy whispered, his hand reaching for her hair and stroking it.

Sharon tried to move away from his touch and said, “I told you to go away.” Her voice wasn’t as firm as her previous request. Andy could tell she had used a great deal of strength to push him away a few minutes before, but right now she didn’t sound as convincing.

“I’m not going anywhere, Sharon…” Andy replied gently. “Hey look at me, babe…” He asked her as his hand ran through her hair. Her head still resting on her knees, Sharon turned her face toward Andy after a little while. Andy offered her an encouraging smile as he told her, “Better, much better…” Her puffy and teary eyes met his when Andy asked, “You wanna talk to me?”

Fresh tears escaped her eyelids, soaking the fabric of her yoga pants. She slowly shook her head and sniffed softly. Andy gazed down at her, his fingers tracing her face and wiping away the fallen tears. Sharon closed her eyes as he kept stroking her cheek. His gentle and loving gesture was all it took for her last bits of strength to dissolve. A sob escaped her lips and she hid her face against her knees again.

Sharon felt Andy slid his uninjured arm around her, pulling her closer, as she tried to move away from his embrace. “I hate this…” Sharon mumbled as she lifted her head to stare blankly in front of her. “This… this is not me!” She exclaimed, wiping angrily the tears on her face. “What did you do to me, Andy?” She quietly whispered, her voice shaking. She hated sounding so vulnerable, she hated herself for not being strong enough and for revealing her weakness to him. Frustration emerged in a wail that escaped her lips before she could stop it. The more she tried to control her sobs, the harder she cried. Heavy sobs racked her body, barely allowing a breath to be drawn.

Andy tightened his embrace around her trembling body and before Sharon could even realize, he drew her closer to him and pulled her up into his lap. Andy closed his eyes briefly and bit his inner cheek as he tried to ignore the throbbing pain that shot through his body. He drew a few shaky breaths before he focused on the woman in his arms. He moved her hair away from her face when he heard her mumble some unintelligible words. “What is it, Sharon?” Andy asked softly.

“Andy, you’re injured…” Sharon told him with a shaky voice, looking up to meet his gaze, “I…”

Andy shook his head and smiled tenderly at her, “You’re not hurting me, you’re not heavy.” He pulled her head back to his chest gently, stroking her hair. He smiled again when he felt Sharon snuggle against him and he tightened his hold on her, “I’ve got you, love.” Andy whispered to her, his lips brushing her hair, before he dropped a kiss on the top of her head.

Andy rocked her in his arms, his hand moving soothingly up and down her back. “There is nothing wrong with letting yourself feel your emotions, Sharon…” He told her quietly, “I will never think less of you because you shed a few tears… or ask for emotional support after a tough day.” He went on, as he kept rubbing her back. A smile appeared on his face and he reassured her, “You will always be Darth Raydor scaring the hell out of the Major Crimes team every time you walk into our Murder Room. I’ll always know that I’d better keep my mouth shut when you give me the death stare. Nothing can change that, babe.” His hand kept running up and down her spine in a comforting way. Andy’s lips brushed the top of her head as he whispered against her hair, “Your emotions won’t make you less badass to me, holding them back is not helpful though…” Andy kissed Sharon’s hair and stayed silent for a little while before he went on, “I know what happened today was scary… I know you were scared too, I saw you at the crime scene, you came to make sure I was okay…” He smiled briefly before he admitted, “Hell, I was scared too.” Andy moved a few strands away from her face, stroking her cheek with his thumb, “I can’t promise you this won’t happen again. You know that sometimes with our jobs we put our lives on the line… and things happen.” Andy felt Sharon tense in his arms and he resumed rubbing her back soothingly, “But I am fine, I am here and I can promise you that I will fight everyday to come back home to you.”

Sharon nodded against him and her tears progressively subdued. She stroked Andy’s chest gently and kissed it before she reached up to cup his cheek with a hand. Sharon leaned up to place a kiss on his jaw and then buried her face in the crook of his neck. She sighed against him, her breath tickling the skin of his neck. “I love you, Andy, so so much…” Sharon whispered.

Andy looked down at Sharon and smiled at her lovingly. He stroked her cheek gently and dried the path left by her tears. “I love you too, Sharon…” Andy replied with a bright smile. He held her chin up with his thumb before he leaned in and kissed her tenderly.

They stayed in silence in each other’s arms for a while until Sharon whispered against him, “This can’t be comfortable for you, Andy… you’re injured…”

Andy shook his head, “I’m fine, don’t worry about me…” He shushed her, nuzzling into her hair and breathing in her familiar scent, “How are you?” He asked her, concern in his voice.

“Better…” Sharon replied, a faint smile gracing her features. She bit her lower lip, pondering whether to ask him or not, “Andy?” She called to him timidly.

“Yes, love?” Andy answered, looking down at her with a reassuring smile.

“Uhm…” Sharon fumbled. After decades of taking care of herself and her kids on her own, voicing her needs and desires didn’t come easy to her. Today was no exception. Sharon felt Andy rub her back again. She took a deep breath and tried again,  “Can… can we stay like this for a few minutes more?” Sharon asked him hesitantly.

“Anything for you, Sharon…” Andy replied as he tightened his embrace and dropped a kiss to her forehead, “Anything.”

[muted-emotionn]

What Am I To Do With You?

Nighttime in Paris seems to be when we always meet. Let's excuse it for its allure or rather the fact that we're just more honest with each other once the sun goes down. I am standing before her while she dances with someone. I don't see the person, I'm too focused on her darling face; how her green eyes holding shades of mine within them never leave my gaze even as she is entwined with this person, the slightest hesitance when she moves her pretty pink lips and she chooses what used to work for her - saying nothing after all; her hair blended in shades of blonde and brown falling obediently around her face, styled in a way that is supposed to prevent me from noticing she currently wears a mask. The look she sends me conveys wanting, longing, and it is a fearful one wrapped up in assurance. She'll step in my direction but her partner is in the way. Then she'd finally turn and step away from me yet catch herself looking back.

At first I do nothing. But then I find myself dancing around her as well. All of these people in the way, too distracted by the music and flow - disrupting it and falling into a new one without them all seems dangerous. But we get closer to doing it anyway.

It isn't by choice nor fault, I end up losing her in the crowd and to find my way back to her is a fucking maze with all exits sealed shut. So I close my eyes and pretend that just for a moment she hasn't ran away from me again. And we are happy.

She's sitting next to me on one of those days neither of us know what the fuck to do with our lives, and she just holds my hand in momentary silence. Her legs are crossed and she squeezes tight as she turns her head, flashes her dimpled smile then tilts her head to lean against mine. Her voice leaves a sedative effect as she murmurs something in French then translates it, "You know...it counts for nothing if we are not doing this together. And if you pay close enough attention, we're actually doing everything even if we can't necessarily see it. We don't always, you know?"

"What do you mean?" I ask.

She frowns for a split second then shrugs. "Exactly what I said."

"Baby," I nudge her and she laughs through a closed smile. I know what she's getting at...or at least I think I do. Perhaps she's referencing the human tendency of not acknowledging the little things in life that matter. Or it could be that not everything being done has to be seen. Could be anything, really. I'm not always right with her.

"Let it be a mystery," she concludes that conversation because she knows I'm smart enough to figure it out for myself.

Suddenly we are arguing. Suddenly we aren't. Suddenly we are in different places, lying awake thinking about one another. Too angry, too prideful to lower our defenses and get over it. Lying next to our phones, eyes rolling up to check the screen hoping it'd light up. She caves first with an "so I still love you" and it dawns on me that that statement will be my truth toward her for the rest of my life. And I never want to stop hearing her say that to me. It is scary to think that it may not be the case for them. But what if it is?

Suddenly she is beneath me, lying on a blanket in the grass. The air is hot and sticky - Summer's finest in the South of France - and the sparkling water in the distance is almost as still as the world around us. The chaos of our entangled bodies and the climb to the highest of peaks, the fall from it and landing into each other again and again, the exchange of breaths and moans travellimg back and forth through our kisses - all of it feels sacred to me. I demand her fire and she delivers in ways that don't hurt as she burns me and melts me away. She asks for violence and in turn I mirror who she is; I make her feel herself through me.

Suddenly my heart drops and she doesn't pick it up. Suddenly she does and I forget her hands aren't exactly the most careful.

"Can I tell you a secret?" she tells me, her head on my chest as we lie in her bed.

"You'd better," I say with eagerness, lightly dragging a fingertip up and down her spine.

My treasure, she looks up at me and furrows her brows as if whatever she was going to say dawned on her just now. But it hasn't, she just couldn't believe that she was exposing herself to me. "I'm obsessed with you."

I smile faintly. It doesn't seem like my heart has skipped several beats and I am rejoicing on the inside. But I am. I caress her face and get closer before asking, "Can I tell you a secret?" she nods with the same eagerness. "I'm obsessed with you, too."

"You promise?"

'In every lifetime' I think to myself. I respond softly, "I promise, baby."

My eyes open and I am still without her in my sights. The music is still playing. The dancing doesn't stop. She's out there somewhere, I can feel her but I don't look for her. And I may be left here alone but I am still happy.

[homogrimoire]

The Final Song, For an Earth Angel

Fair Game Week 2020: Day 6 - Atlas Ball / Mantle Battle

Read it on AO3 here.

The night of the dance, Clover made sure not even a hair was out of place. He also mentally prepared himself for what would transpire. He had no doubt that Qrow would accept his love and the dance now, he just needed to prepare himself. It was a major thing he was doing. After checking his hair one last time, he made his way to the ballroom. Clover was guarding the punch bowl as Qrow arrived with the kids, Ruby eagerly dragging him along. Clover admired the man as he walked in. He was standing tall now, as opposed to the hunched over posture he would hold when he first arrived. And of course, he looked as stunning as ever. Hot, great with kids, amazing personality, and literally one of the best huntsmen to have ever lived. He was the whole package. How could Clover not fall in love with him? Qrow then split from the kids as they went do their own things, and made his way over to Clover.

“Hey there hot stuff.” Clover winked. He poured himself another cup of the punch and took a drink. It tasted all right, but as to be expected of a school dance planned on such short notice.

“You’re pretty easy on the eyes yourself Lucky Charm.” Clover chuckled.

“Drink?” He asked, offering him a cup.

“No thanks. That stuff is almost always spiked.”

“I’ve been watching it all night.” Clover enticed. Qrow kindly too up the offering, which pleased Clover. Before taking a drink, Qrow took a sniff of it.

“Yup. Spiked.” Clover stopped mid drink, swallowing what was in his mouth with an audible gulp.

“Fuck.”

“Maybe later.” Qrow winked. This man is going to be the death of me. Clover thought as a blush spread across his face. “If you want, I’ll let Jimmy know what happened while you replace that.”

“Sure.” Clover mustered as Qrow went to find the General, keeping his eyes on him until he disappeared into the crowd. With no Qrow to ogle at, he went to take care of the punch. On his way to dump it, he wondered how the punch could have possibly been spiked. He knew he kept his eyes on it like a hawk, so he tried to think of any moments he took his eyes off it. Then it hit him that the only time he did long enough for someone to slip in some alcohol was when his eyes were on Qrow. He knew that he only had himself to blame, but then again, it caused Qrow to flirt with him so overtly. It was another sign that Qrow liked him back, he just had to make the move. Walking more quickly. He searched for punch to refill the bowl, but found none and instead replaced it with water. If it came down to it, it would be easier to tell if it was spiked. After a whole half hour of that, he reentered the ballroom. He saw Ren and Winter chatting where he was stationed.

“Good. You’re here.” Ren said.

“General Ironwood instructed me to switch stations with you. Apparently, the students find me too intimidating. Someone like you is better off than me on the dance floor.” Ren motioned for Clover to follow him.

“Alright...” he said suspiciously, wondering what Ren was planning.

“And remember to blend in!” She shouted as they merged into the crowd. Apparently, they were going deep into the crowd where Qrow and the rest of the kids were. He was just finishing a fun little dance with Ruby before joining Yang and Blake, mostly just to embarrass Yang. As soon as she noticed Clover, she mentioned it to her uncle, thankful for the Ace Ops’ appearance.

“Hey there Lucky Charm. Ready to show these kids how it’s done?”

“Only if I can get the last dance.”

“I think that can be arranged. But until then,” Qrow pulled him into the fray, almost causing him to trip, “let’s have a good time with everyone!” They first danced with each other, a spectacular, if just a tad too vulgar for the setting, display of their bond as they moved in sync with each other. Soon, they took turns dancing with each of the kids, having fun, and laughing at little jokes and minor missteps here and there. Clover was getting tired, and went find a seat so he could take a small break. The dancing took a lot of energy, but it was undeniably worth every second. As he watched Qrow and Nora share an energetic dance, Ren took a seat next to him.

“On my way down here, Weiss told me she saw an empty balcony two floors up. It should be about right above us.”

“Thanks, I’ll keep that in mind.” After a moment of comfortable silence between each other, Ren spoke up again.

“You know, we all care about you too, not just our Uncle Qrow.” It caught Clover off guard. He wasn’t expecting this talk so soon, especially at a dance.

“That… means a lot to me. Thanks.” He could not fully convey how much it did mean to him. They sat there, watching the love of their life dance and have fun, knowing that the final song was next. He felt content. As the song stopped, Ren got up.

“See you later, Uncle Clover.” Did I hear that right? Clover could only stare in disbelief as he walked away. He almost didn’t notice Qrow as he sat next to them.

“Having fun hot stuff?” Now that he was closer, Qrow noticed that Clover did look really hot, in both senses of the word. Some of the gel in his hair was undone in the chaos of dancing, leaving some strands out of place.

“With you? Always.”

“It’s kinda hot in here, don’t you think?” Qrow asked as he tugged on his collar.

“I know a place where we can cool off, if you want. It’ll still be hot with you there, but I think we can manage.”

“Lead the way Boy Scout.” Qrow said as he stood up. “I’ll be riiight behind you.” Qrow had to hand it to Atlas. They sure knew how to design a good uniform. They continued chatting and laughing as they always did. Once they reached the decently sized balcony after a short walk, Qrow filled him in on what he missed while he was taking care of the punch. They could hear the sounds of the party as they droned on below them. The thing that made Qrow laugh the most was when he told Clover that Yang had tripped right into Blake. He was laughing so hard as he leaned against the railing that he could barely tell what happened. It was endearing. So much so, that he wanted to tell Qrow that he loved him right then and there, but he didn’t. He wanted the moment to be as perfect as could be. However, his laughing fit and Clover’s vehement admiration was interrupted by an announcement.

“If I can have your attention please,” spoke Ironwood. “the final song is about to commence, so grab a partner, and proceed to the dance floor.” That was Clover’s que.

“May I have this dance?” He asked Qrow with a bow, a hand extended out for him to hold.

“Lucky for you,” Qrow began as he took his hand, “I’ve been waiting all night for a certain lucky guy to ask me.” Hand in hand, the final song began. They both gazed into each other’s eyes, the light of a shattered moon making them sparkle.

“You look stunning, as always.” Clover complimented.

“On most days, I chalk it up to luck.” he joked. The slow song dictated their simple, but intimate movements.

“And today?”

“Really lucky.” The both chuckled. They continued their dance in content silence, slowly inching closer and closer. “You know, I love you Clover.” Qrow smiled gently, a slight blush arising. Clover supposes he should have considered that Qrow could have told him first.

“I planned to tell you later, but it looks like you beat me to it.”

“Do I get a prize for first then?”

“I’d say so, my lucky charm.” They closed their eyes, and slowly leaned closer into each other. As the song neared its end, they dared not break away from each other. Months of pining were finally manifesting in that small, but so significant moment. They only finally stopped just so they could catch their breath. “I love you too Qrow.” Together, they leaned against the balcony’s railing, holding each other’s hand, gazing lovingly at each other, recounting all the times they so overtly flirted, and the times the kids poked fun at them. Moonlight shining against the Qrow’s dark clothes and salt and pepper hair made him look angelic. Clover told him about Ren, which made Qrow laugh in surprise.

“It’s always the quiet ones you've got to watch out for.”

“I can tell.” He wasn’t going to tell Qrow that Ren called him Uncle Clover, yet. That was a story for another day. The sound of a vibration interrupted their conversation. Clover Picked up his scroll out of a pocket. He sighed sadly.

“Duty calls.” He really didn’t want the moment to end.

“Hmph. We should get going. It’s starting to get cold anyways. And who knows, maybe Yang and Winter started a Big Sister Dance Off.”

“Heh, I would pay to see that.” They continued their walk back to the ballroom hand in hand, enjoying the silence and each other’s company.

“I hear Vacuo is warm this time of year.” Qrow said just before they opened to the doors to reenter the ballroom. “You’re welcome to tag along with us if you like.” Clover thought for a moment.

“You know, I think I’ll take you up on that offer.” Qrow gave him a quick peck on his cheek.

“Lucky me.”

[alcego-writes]

The 3 Act, 9 Block, 27 Chapter Plotting Method

There are countless ways to structure your story. There’s the general plot structure (exposition, rising action, etc.), the hero’s journey, and three-act structures—but do you really know how to put together a plot and put it into action?

The 3 Act, 9 Block, 27 Chapter plotting method is an excellent resource for both plot and pacing, and I use it for almost all of my projects. I’ll review it here and give you an idea of what it is, when to use it, and how to put it into action.

What is the 3 Act, 9 Block, 27 Chapter Method?

The 3 Act, 9 Block, 27 Chapter outline method is exactly what it sounds like: there are three acts, which are divided into nine blocks, which are then divided into twenty-seven chapters. Be Your Own Mentor has an excellent page describing each block and its subdivisions here. I strongly recommend checking out this page, as it explains each aspect of this plotting method in detail.

However, this outlining method does more than just suggest where to put plot-points—it’s also a guide for pacing. Each block should be roughly the same length, which helps prevent your story from getting a sagging middle. This relatively uniform length also allows you to set word-count goals for each section, particularly if you’re aiming for a specific word-count in a project.

For example, in an 18,000-word novella, each act (which I split up evenly—some people prefer to have the second act span from the first plot twist to the second plot twist) should be roughly 6,000 words. With three blocks in each act, this means that each block should be roughly 2,000 words. This allows me to keep an eye on how much I’ve written and adjust my scenes/pacing accordingly.

When to Use the 3 Act, 9 Block, 27 Chapter Method

First of all, this is most useful when you need to fast-draft a clean, tight, and effective story. I use it for all of my ghostwriting work, as it is simple, straightforward, and allows me to both discover and understand my story (and what I’ll need to pull it off) while outlining.

That’s not to say that this method is ill-suited to other projects. It’s actually quite versatile (I’ve gone so far as to merge it with the formulaic structure of mystery novels) and simple to use, once you understand it. Even if you’re a discovery writer, it can be really helpful to keep an eye on this chart and make sure you’re hitting all the beats you need to, and that you’re moving your story forward instead of stalling.

That said, it can be less useful for short fiction. Short stories tend to follow a different structure altogether, with many focusing on a specific scene or mood-related to their premise (although I have, on occasion, seen short stories with full plots), so having a beat-sheet or three-act outline won’t necessarily work for you. Now, you can absolutely take parts of the 3 Act, 9 Block, 27 Chapter outline and focus on, say, only Act II or Block 4 for the duration of the short story—because, as I said before, this is a really versatile tool. Play around with it and see what works for you!

Basically: if you need to know the beginning, middle, and end of your story; need a simple beat-sheet for your project; or even just want to familiarize yourself with the generalized structure of a long-form story, this is a great resource.

Key Terms

While BYOM does an excellent job explaining the gist of the 3 Act, 9 Block, 27 Chapter outline, there are a few things that may still be confusing if you’re not 100% familiar with all the fancy plot-terms involved. So, before I dive into how to use the 3 Act, 9 Block, 27 Chapter plot structure, I’m going to clarify a few terms that may cause confusion.

Plot Point - You’ve probably heard of them, but I promise they don’t have to be as dramatic as popular media would have you believe. There’s no need for a surprise! The character was dead all along! if it won’t suit your story. Still, plot twists make for a good story. They keep things fresh and interesting. And, this is important, they don’t have to come out of left field. For example, in romance stories, a plot twist could be something like a plot point the main character forgot about coming back to influence their story, or a revelation of an important character’s backstory, secrets, or other important traits. What I’m trying to say is that these should be Big Moments of your story, but they don’t need to be world-shattering. They should feel natural and rewarding to your story’s premise. These should occur at roughly the 25% and 75% mark of your story.

Midpoint - Strictly speaking, this is the middle of the story. It marks a change in your protagonist: where they were reactive in the first half, they become proactive here. They’ve learned about the new world/situation they’re in, and it’s time for their character arc to impact their choices going forward.

Reversal - Here, both the readers and the protagonist see something in a whole new light. This may be caused by a change in circumstances (in a thriller, for example, this may be a trusted ally betraying the protagonist) or by the protagonist’s new perspective shifting the way both they and the readers see the events of the story. To put it simply, this is where something known changes form. A friend turned foe, a job gone wrong, and even a sudden realization that demands the protagonist’s attention all work. This should occur after the midpoint, where the protagonist has changed.

Reaction - You’ll notice that this appears twice in the 3 Act, 9 Block, 27 Chapter structure, and the ambiguous nature of the term may be confusing for some folks. The Reaction is not so much your protagonist’s response to everything that’s happened thus far so much as it’s their reaction to the plot point that occurred immediately before it. How does the protagonist react to the inciting incident (and its immediate consequences…)? How does the Reversal affect their behavior? These are the questions you’re answering at this point in the story.

Action - While the first half of the structure is mostly reactionary, there’s no getting around the fact that a reactionary plot can be boring, even annoying. This is where you show how your protagonist acts under pressure; something Big has just happened to them, and now they need to decide how to proceed with their life. Do they run, or do they charge into conflict? This defines your protagonist at the early points of their arc and serves to contrast their eventual development in Trials and Dedication.

How to Use the 3 Act, 9 Block, 27 Chapter Method

If you haven’t already, I recommend taking a look at BYOM’s break-down of each block. It’s a very useful guide and will give you an idea of how each point ties into the next.

Ready? When outlining, I keep a “skeleton outline” on hand that looks like this:

This “skeleton” allows me to keep track of everything while I put together a plot in another document that will get far messier and harder to keep track of than the clean, easy-to-read skeleton. In the functional outline, I usually mark my actual outlines with the block numbers and goals, as seen in the second image, but that’s largely due to how I structure my Scrivener document after I’ve completed the outline.

After I’ve set up my outline and have my “skeleton outline” (combined with any genre formulas, as with mystery) ready to go, I begin writing the plot. This usually takes me 1-2 days, depending on my current work-load and productivity levels.

As you can see, I’ve blended a few points together (such as in Block 4, where there’s a lot of overlap in the block’s structure) and added several notes to myself while filling out what happens at each point. You’ll also notice that I write more the further I get through the outline—this is partially because I’m getting familiar with the story, and thus have more to say, and partly because there’s more to keep track of as I get further through the plot. (Including b-plots, which I also make note of in this outline.)

The goal here isn’t to map out everything that happens so much as it is to give me an idea of what I want to be doing in each part of my project. At the beginning, I need to focus on the romance, but in Act II I’ll pay more attention to the b-plot. I often jump around on the outline as I figure things out (such as plot twists, as knowing what these are in advance makes it easier to build them up) and add notes regarding characters I need to create, places I need to have descriptions for, and other project-relevant details.

From there, I set up my Scrivener document. As you can see, I combine and separate each aspect of the blocks as I see fit; the ‘27 Chapters’ is more of a guideline than anything else. When working on a project with chapters, I’ll label each scene with the chapter it will go into, but I don’t sort them into chapters until I’m done writing.

You’ll also see that I write a schedule for myself based on a) how much I need to write, b) when I need it done by, and c) how much I’m able to take on. This is my job, so my schedule is tighter than it would be for someone doing this in their spare time. And, while having a schedule is by no means required, it helps when it comes to managing your project and working to its end. I use highlights, labels, and status markers to keep track of my work and let myself know where I am and where I need to be.

Outlining is a really personal thing, as you’re not just putting together the structure for your story—you’re putting it together in a way that makes sense to you. With the exception of clients who request outlines, no one except for me will ever see this outline. Ultimately, the outline is yours, and yours alone.

Find my blog useful? Leave a comment or check out my Patreon for early-access and extra content! Thanks for reading, and happy writing!

[miannedomusings]

Jus2′s FOCUS ON ME

OUT OF FOCUS IDOLS

Summary: This gorgeous video gives us more Jus2 than we know what to do with, and shows us the disconnect between idol and fan through the disconnect between lyrics and video

A/N: Quite possibly my favourite MV from 2019, and one that I’ve been wanting to write about since I saw it... So this is well past due, but better late than never! The points I make are based off of two different translations of the lyrics (MV and colorcodedlyrics), and I tried to consider both when interpreting.

In interviews with Billboard and Soompi the Got7 leader-maknae subunit, Jus2, describe their debut EP as a tour through the senses. Each track is dedicated to one of the classic five senses, and the song Senses encapsulates a “sixth sense”. Fittingly, it’s the song representing vision – Focus on Me – that’s paired with a music video, and one that paints a very different picture from what’s given to us through sound.

To me, the lyrics of Focus on Me conjure up a chaotic scene in a club where two people are trying to connect. It’s too loud to hear each other and so all their talking is done through their eyes. Focusing on each other, matching tempos in their dance, until it’s as if it’s only them in the room.

However, like with many of my favourite MVs, the visuals dramatically change the feeling of the lyrics. The video attached to this song contradict the words at almost every turn. It’s as if they’ve used their concept to give us a song that can only be fully understood with the use of sight – a nice touch!

I am very tempted to sit here and write out every time they contradicted themselves in this video. It’s crazy. And impressive – the amount of planning that went into this is admirable and worth boasting. But I’ll do my best to limit myself... Let’s start with one of my favourites:  

In the beginning of the first verse (and yet somehow not even the first disconnect between audio and video) Yugyeom delivers the lines,

When there’s the indescribable tension We’re parallel to each other  

while leaning to the side at an unnatural angle. It’s one of the only moments in the video where the world tilts like this, putting him entirely out of parallel with the rest of the world (as seen in the lines of the walls behind him). By twisting this line in a very literal sense, he calls into question how honest the sentiment is. The use of the word parallel implies a comparison where he and the person he’s singing to are equal in their lingering feelings. However, with the visuals it seems more like that’s the impression he’d like to give rather than the reality.

More generally, one of the ways they play with the lyrics in this video is by adjusting the camera movements based on the actions that are being described. The camera is almost never still, often feeling like it’s playing the role of us. But despite what we may want, it’s rarely on the same page as Jus2. If they say get deeper, you better believe the camera is backing up instead of diving in; if they say go, we’re taking a pause; if they say stay, we’re zooming back. Probably the least subtle of these is another Yugyeom moment, when he tells us he’ll always go where [we] are. He delivers this line while stopping in his tracks, letting the camera leave the room, door closing in our face, and being cut us off from us entirely.

Things like this are all over the verses – nearly every line. If they mention dim lights, the set is brightly lit, if they mention the moon, get ready to see the stage lighting coming into shot, and on and on. Constantly these two are painting pictures with their words that the video doesn’t deliver on.

The chorus is probably where it becomes the clearest (it’s when I first noticed it at least). The only lyrics they need to make happen (or more accurately, not get in the way of) is the single repeated line, Now focus on me. And yet, the first chorus meets us with glitching edits that switch between JB and Yugyeom so that we can’t possibly focus on either of them, as well as choreography that obscures most of their faces.  

By the second and third choruses they’ve switched up their tactics a bit, keeping the same obscuring choreography, but now asking us to focus while having a dozen people on the screen. Focusing is made all the more impossible since at least four of the dozen are the two men we’re meant to be watching – it’s tough to choose where to look, let alone maintain focus on the one that’s actually singing, tucked away several sets back as the world fills in in front of him.

The song is full of commands to focus and to look into their eyes, and yet every time these tasks are made impossible: they look away, the camera goes out of focus, there are too many versions of JB and Yugyeom for us to know where to look. All of which is topped off with distracting pulsing lights and glitches that cut into the video.

But what are they trying to tell us with these endless contradictions?

It’s with the first chorus that we’re given what we need to put the constant conflict between what we’re hearing and what we’re seeing into context. This is when JB and Yugyeom get an audience. A crowd of women sit in the stands and watch these two as they perform on a catwalk stage. But importantly, everyone in the audience wears 3D glasses – a tool used to bring two images into a focused one. And so, we can identify with this crowd as we see them trying to follow through on the same instructions as us and bring the two idols into focus.

For me, this scene takes the song to somewhere a little meta, where it feels like we’re having the idol-fan relationship laid out for us. The lyrics give us the fantasies promised by all idols to their fans, and the visuals point to a hollow truth.

There are two main elements in the dream that idols are selling: there’s the fantasy surrounding the fan, and the fantasy surrounding the idol.

Starting with the fan, the fantasies presented in this song feel personal. They’re singing to you, they’re matching tempos with you, and just as you try to focus on them, they promise that it’s only you. But of course, it isn’t just you. There are many you’s listening and being swept along by these sentiments.

A reality of the idol-fan relationship is that it is uneven. There is an endless sea of fans admiring each single idol, and inevitably this creates a connection that differs depending on the direction it’s travelling. From a fan’s perspective it can feel as though a connection develops on a personal level; if you pay enough attention you’ll pick up on their personality, their sense of humor, their quirks. But this connection can’t be reciprocated. Not to say that idols don’t love their fans, but the connection felt for a group of people too big to easily quantify can’t reach that same individualized level. However, the lyrics ignore this and tell the listener sweet lies.

The video on the other hand points to reality. It does a good job of visualizing this with the audience present in the first chorus. They all have black hair, wear black clothes, and slowly fade into the black background as they stretch into the distance. They’re not indistinguishable (different hair styles, different clothes) but they do blend together into an impersonal mass.

Despite the audience’s focus on the stage, JB and Yugyeom don’t give them any direct attention, instead performing for the camera. They’re singing to a you, to their fans, who are right there, but instead they commit to the performance and the camera. They prioritize the connection with the person watching the video – this makes it feel more personal for the real audience watching through a screen while showing us how impersonal it really is.

The trouble with having so many you’s to sing to is that their attention has to be split. We see this in how they ignore the audience in favour of the camera, and in the way they sing, Let me love you. Both times this line is featured, we see Yugyeom and JB break from facing forward, rotating each time they deliver the line. It’s as if they’re trying to direct their love outward in all directions so that every fan can feel it coming their way. The visual feels especially cold since for the majority of the video we’ve heard them sing to just one person as they hold eye contact with the viewer.

Similarly, when delivering the most potent fantasy –  only you and me  – we get reminders that it can’t be true. The line gets delivered as we travel through shots that are filled with back-up dancers and multiple iterations of the Jus2 members – hardly a private setup – creating a long-take shot that ends with JB reflected in mirrors that also show us the camera. Despite the high frequency of mirrors in this video this is the only time we actually see the camera, and it immediately dismantles the idea that this song is dedicated to a singular you listening.  

The attention given to the camera by Jus2 makes this song feel intimate for the watcher. But the way that the camera disobeys the lyrics, and the brief reality check that there is a camera between us and them reminds us that we are only one of the you’s and that there is much more distance between us and them than we like to think.

Turning to the fantasy surrounding the idol the video shows us that just as we are not the “you” that’s being sung about, the idols are not exactly the “I” either.

In this song most of the lyrics focus on the person they’re singing to rather than themselves. Even so, the video still gives many hints that these two idols aren’t quite what they present themselves as. For example, the video features many shots populated with multiple JBs and Yugyeoms, all appearing to exist within the same space. The multiple versions of them remind us that these idols have many personas ready to be presented, while also showing that picking out which version is real is an impossible and futile endeavour.  

These many selves take the stage during impossible long-takes that demonstrate that this video has been edited and crafted to appear perfect. Just in case the illusion is too seamless for us to catch onto, the video is also interrupted with jarring digital edits that feel that we’re watching the video open into another reality.

After taking many close (frame by frame) looks, I’m quite sure that this teal interruption is actually a shot of the same room again, just empty. It feels like we’re getting a peak at the truth, a reminder that this is just a set, that it doesn’t stretch nearly as far as they’ve suggested, and that in a way the idol isn’t really there. The video actually begins with a tour of the sets that will be featured. They feel especially cold when we see them without anyone in them, and serve to remind us that all of this has been constructed with a purpose in mind.  

If we consider the audience, the 3D glasses play into this fantasy as well. 3D glasses are designed to create an illusion. They combine two 2D images and give the impression of something 3-dimensional. Similarly, much of what we see from idols creates the illusion of something deeper. There is an inevitable degree of separation between us and them and so we need our glasses to create a fuller picture. We piece together what we’re given to create something that feels more tangible. But the final 3D image is entirely dependant on the pieces provided and is ultimately just a clever trick.

Similarly, when watching this video we are dependent on the camera. We want to move towards Jus2, do as they ask, but we can only go where the camera lets us. And throughout this video the camera is backing away. We move further and further from the idols in every shot, creating extra distance between us and them.

Throughout this song we are presented with the fantasy of having a real and personal connection with these idols. The video shows us these illusions and then points to their cracks to remind us of the truth: that no matter how many times they ask us to focus on them, we’ll never know if we’re focusing on the real thing.

It would be easy to end this little (little?) essay here. But there’s an interesting twist that happens at the end of the song that suggests these illusions can maybe be overcome. As I’ve said, all through the video the camera is moving backwards, constantly away from JB and Yugyeom. There are only two parts of the video where this isn’t the case: the very beginning and the very end.

In the beginning it feels like we’re winding up. Moving deeper into the set so that we can make our long trek back. But in the final shot of the music video we are told, don’t hesitate, and we don’t. The camera zooms forward, passing several aloof clones, working through multiple rooms that seems to be separated by out-of-focus barriers, and after breaking through the final “wall” we find the last versions of JB and Yugyeom. And finally, they make real and direct eye contact with the camera.

In the camera’s final resting spot all extraneous details are gone. The background is close and plain. The lighting in this room feels more real as well, casting shadows on their faces and giving them a bit more warmth than we’ve seen before this. At last we are able to focus on them. This final moment feels like we’re given a look at what we were promised, and what we could have if we knew how to break through to them.

Interestingly, the other shots that are shown with the camera moving forward are of the empty sets at the start and a lonely shot of Yugyeom where for once he doesn’t appear to be performing. Since it is with the start of the lyrics that camera begins its retreat, it feels like these moments, when we are moving closer, are more honest. They are before the fantasy has started, they’re before the sets have been filled with dancers and perfect clones, and before Yugyeom feels he’s being watched. To me these create the impression that they are trying to tell us that they feel just as separated by these illusions as we should. By putting on their idol personas they create a separation that pushes them as far from us as us from them.

With this opening in mind much about this video feels different. The crowd with their glasses who are always watching but never able to really see them feels worse for the idols than for us (so close to others wanting to give them attention, but not being able to engage). The commands from Jus2 to focus on them and to come closer sound more like actual requests, except they don’t know which “you” they’re talking to either. And the very last shot feels like they might be playing out their own fantasy instead of ours.

It may be worth ending this by mentioning that when describing the visual impressions each song on the EP gave the members of Jus2, Focus on Me was described by JB as “fog”, and by Yugyeom as “like a smoke, fume”. These descriptions fit nicely with the ethereal, pulsing music, but they also fit nicely with the video. Though the visual quality is crystal clear with its stark lighting, high contrast, and sharp choreography, their descriptions feel at home with the murky realities.

thanks for reading!

MUSINGS MASTERLIST

[phantomphangphucker]

Ectober Day3: Bond - I Seem Like Two But I Am One

Danny decided to tell his folks about being Phantom. Now they have to figure out what to do about that and what, exactly, being a halfa means.

“So, um yeah”, Danny shuffles awkwardly while Maddie and Jack blink at him. Rubbing his neck and looking around, “so, um, do you want to see? The whole transforming...thing?”.

Maddie and Jack exchange a glance. Of course, they wanted to see, but they also didn’t want their boy to be a ghost. Halfway or not.

Maddie nods and holds her hand up lightly, “could I check your pulse first though? And...after?”.

Danny nods holding his wrist out to her and Maddie grips it gently. Really noticing and paying attention to just how cold her sons skin is for the first time. Sure she had noticed he was cold to the touch, both of them had, but it was disregarded easily. Not everyone ran at the exactly same temperature and she had believed him to be strangely ectocontaminated. So it hadn’t seemed that strange.

Smiling at picking up the pulse, it was slow, too slow, but it was there all the same. Danny rubs his neck as Jack checks for himself, “yeah I know it’s kind of...slow. But it’s fine, I don’t really notice”, shrugging, “and it kind of helps with the whole ‘not bleeding out from major injuries’ thing”.

Danny looks at his toes when both of them cringe. They knew full well Phantom got hurt a lot and knowing that was their son, well that wasn’t pleasant. Or at least that was their sons' ghosts, somehow fused with his somehow still alive -partly alive?- body.

Danny clears his throat, “um anyway...”, trailing off as a ring of bright slightly blue light shoots out of his stomach and travels across his body. The two watching as he floats up off the stool slightly and rubs his neck, white glowing hair floating around, “the...floating, is kind of automatic. Really have to force myself to not”.

Maddie nods, it made perfect sense, ghosts were naturally in a state of gravity nullification. But her Danny shouldn’t be having to deal with that.

Jack checks over Danny’s pulse again before handing his sons wrist back over to his wife. Firmly glad it’s still there and unchanged. Of course he had hovered his fingers over Danny’s glowing ecto-field, feeling the chill and tingle of it. And rubbed the texture of his jumpsuit, so much like their own. It was easy to see now how it was just the inversion of the suit Jack had lovingly crafted for Danny not too long ago. The same one that went missing only months ago, and now he knew why. It has fused to Danny’s ghost...or ghost half?

Watching Danny as a whole again as he bobs slightly in the air, toxic green eyes leaving faint light tracers. Jack can tell his postures changed, it’s more confident, more bold, more aggressive. It made sense, ghosts were things untethered to human insecurities and were very strong in their ways. But it also made it clear that Phantom, while his son's ghost and part of him, wasn’t exactly him. It was him but different, ghostly, “I’m not sure how we never noticed before”.

Danny shrugs, taking his arm back. Clearly resisting putting his hands behind his head and smiling, as he speaks, “well I was hiding it and it should really be impossible. So makes sense you wouldn’t guess”.

Maddie nods, also noting the subtle behavior change, “true”, shifting in her seat slightly and making a point to sound gentle, “would you be okay with us taking samples? See how it is possible? That it’s really safe”.

Danny smiles, “yeah okay, I trust you guys. Obviously”.

Maddie and Jack exchange a glance, Jack tilting his head as he speaks, “then why wait so long to tell us?”. The unspoken question of ‘maybe we could have fixed it’ being rather obvious to everyone.

Danny frowns slightly, “nerves mostly. Didn’t want to get in trouble, didn’t know how you’d react to the whole part ghost thing. Since you pretty aggressively hate ghosts. But after a while, it became more that I didn’t want to be an experiment. And then you started hunting me, which no hard feelings about, was even rather fun sometimes”, crossing his legs and resting his elbow on his legs, chin in his palm, “but I got reminded how important you both are to me recently”.

Maddie smiles at that, “you mean the world to us too sweetie”, choosing to ignore the whole ‘hunting her own kid and him finding it ‘fun’’ thing, and walking to get a testing kit.

Jack tilts his head as he pulls out a needle and blood vials, eyeballing his sons jumpsuit covered arm and wondering how the get through that. Not exactly liking the idea of just using a bigger needle. Even if ghosts can’t feel pain, he’s pretty sure his son can. Whether that means their hypothesis about ghost pain is wrong or the effect of his ghost still being bound to a human body, remains to be seen.

Danny chuckles before unzipping his jumpsuit and pulling it off his arms, leaving the top half of the suit to float lazily around his waist.

Jack gapes and shakes his head, “you can take it off?”.

Danny nods while Jack takes in the very human skin colour, even if it’s glowing, and the sporadic white chest hairs. Other ghosts not having something matching normal human skin tones, possibly an effect of the human body? Jack hands Maddie the needle and Danny gives her his arm. Jack speaking as she draws the blo-ectoplasm. Which is incredibly weird to see coming from who he knows is his, not dead, son, “are you sure you’re okay with us taking samples from you? And does it feel different, the ectoplasm?”.

Danny shrugs and waves his other hand around loosely, “it’s thicker sure, kinda bubbles, but I’m used to it. Never really felt strange at all honestly. And dad, it’s fine. I totally get wanting to check things out”.

Maddie takes a few more samples and looks at them, looking back at Danny and wondering if human samples would match ghost ones, “would you mind changing back? Giving samples from that...half, of you?”.

Danny shrugs loosely but uncrosses his legs and chances back with the same bright ring of light. Speaking as he stops floating, “I mean sure. It would make sense for it to be, um, not exactly the same”.

Both parents glance at each other, noticing the smaller voice and more curled up pose. Danny, human Danny, was undeniably more timid and awkward. While Maddie looks back to Danny and gets back to work. Ruffling his hair quickly as he shifts in the seat.

Jack nods, “had to say for sure of course!”. Making Danny rub his neck and nod.

Danny heads up to bed with a small smile after they finish up. It’s obvious to the parents that he was nervous and even scared of telling them. Of how they would react. Which is way neither one broached the topic of if ‘Phantom and Danny were really the same person’ or if ‘he wanted to be fixed’ or why he ‘protected the town’ or what Phantom’s obsession was. Something telling both of them that such questions wouldn’t sit well with him and that what was best for their son was flat-out acceptance.  

But how could anyone accept their kid being partly dead? Being part another, highly dangerous and violent, species? Getting thrown around and injured constantly? Being, what they’re sure is, two separate beings in the same body but so closely related that they can’t view themselves as actually being separate beings. Because, clearly, Phantom and Danny weren’t the same. Phantom was boisterous, cocky, aggressive -but not threateningly so-, and a showman. Danny was shy, withdrawn, skittish, and, blended into the background by nature and completely willingly. One had ectoplasm, one had blood. One glowed and floated, one was bound to Earths gravitational pull. One had powers, one had organs. But both had the same slow pulse, the same weak heartbeat. It left them both wondering just how much divide there was between the two. If, maybe, the connections were few enough to separate them. Or plentiful enough to merge them properly back fully alive and one. Sure technically that would just be the ghost, Phantom, ceasing to exist and going dormant inside Danny. But, based off the scars they’d seen, the increased paranoia, the lying; Danny would be better off without his ghost or fully alive again. Whichever was more accurate and regardless of how.

Walking down into the lab to really get to work, to see what they can find or figure out. Maddie speaking softly, “do you think this can be fixed?”.

Jack smiles at her reassuringly, “of course! And I’m sure Danny-boy would like to have his normal life back!”, Jack frowns slightly before looking up the stairs with a large smile, “course he’s our boy regardless”. Which Maddie nods at.

They loved their boy, regardless of any strangeness. Fixing this would only be good for him, even if he likely did enjoy the powers. Who wouldn’t? But they can’t exactly tell him their intentions. Phantom wouldn’t exactly like that. But honestly, if the two could, had to be, split then, well, Phantom was still their sons ghost. He was still family. He’d still be welcome even if not being attached to Danny’s body anymore made him more ghostly.

Jack can’t help but smile over how that would kind of be like have two sons instead of one! Which is cool, even if one’s a ghost and that’s not cool.

Because even if they both undeniably do and could love their boy, all parts of him, him being ghostly was still incredibly unsettling and just wrong.

Everything inside Maddie screamed to correct it, partly because a child shouldn’t die to any degree before their parents, partly because ghosts were not good creatures. The idea of her boy having that darkness to him, having ghosts natural unpleasant instincts to struggle against, hurt. Sure his human part? Alive part? made that struggle easier, likely hampering Phantom’s ghostly nature. But if it could be corrected, the burden lifted, then it should be. Of course being separate, Phantom would have to learn to wrangle it in without Danny but maybe being together so long already gave him the skills he’d need. Or maybe being fused at all made him naturally resistant and more human. But by that same logic, that would also mean Danny, human Danny, was irrevocably and irreversibly a little bit ghostly. Would have a little bit of ghost nature. But even if he didn’t get it imprinted on him, being so close to a ghost would make it rub off on him anyway. And that’s okay, strange, but okay.

Maddie sits down and starts prepping slides and tubes, “he’ll always be family no matter what we find. They both will be”.

Jack smiles as a machine whirls to life, “Phantom will get cookies and fudge, not ectoblasts, from his parents from here on out!”. Making Maddie laugh, even if it reminded her that Phantom actively got shot at and didn’t mind it much. While Danny surely didn’t want to get shot, just look at how skittish and avoidant he was of their guns?!? Maybe human Danny just had more of a sense of self-preservation, survival instincts? Well of course he did! He was the alive one! Which leaves her wondering if Danny was more vulnerable human or ghost. Maybe they both made each other stronger. Obviously Danny gave Phantom a way around anti-ghost things. Phantom gave him powers in return. Well, if he could actually use them anyway. She’ll have to remember to ask if Danny can use the powers regardless of form.

Maddie pulls one vial of blood and one of ectoplasm out of the centrifuge and blinks at them. The ectoplasm had a layer of red blood cells and white blood cells at the bottom. The blood had a layer of deep green ectoplasm and foaming pale ectoplasm on top. Muttering at them, “so clearly he has both regardless. The blood and ectoplasm isn’t actually separate, one’s just more dominate depending on form”.

Jack looks over seconds before both vials start reacting violently. The ectoplasm in the blood sample corroding the blood and the blood in the ectoplasm sample vibrating violently before exploding; destroying the vial. Jack snatching the still intact vial and scrapping the ectoplasm out of it, the sample stabilising. While Maddie grabs another ectoplasm vial and sticks it in the centrifuge, scrapping out the ectoplasm into a separate vial as soon as it’s done spinning. The blood left in the vial still exploding, but the ectoplasm is safe and seems stable in another vial.

The pair stare down at the mess of blood. ectoplasm, and glass on the floor. Looking up to each other after a bit. Maddie clears her throat, “so the blood and ectoplasm can’t be separated without reacting violently. But if we could make sure to get out all of Phantom’s ectoplasm from Danny he’d be fine. And all of Danny’s blood from Phantom, he’d be fine”.

Jack nods before looking back to the samples, paling slightly seeing more violently reacting ectoplasm had formed on the top of the blood sample. Rushing to scrape it off while speaking, “it looks like his blood produces ectoplasm all on its own”.

Maddie stares, “you don’t think, that being fused with Phantom is all that stopped him from dying? That without him Danny’s body would just stop functioning after a while?”.

Jack nods somewhat weakly before both turn their heads to the ectoplasm sample as it begins foaming and overflowing from the vial. Jack whispering, “Danny’s blood stabilises Phantom’s ectoplasm”, before looking to Maddie, “they’ll both die without each other”.

Maddie sits down a bit numbly, running a hand through her hair, “well, let’s see what else we can find. See if there’s some way around...that”.

Moving to the microscope only shows more of the same. Both samples having more of one over the other and both interacting easily. But if blood separated from ectoplasm or ectoplasm separated from blood, they would seemingly fall out of sync and react violently. Complete destruction of nuclei and cell walls. Dissolving both samples into gooey unviable messes. Removing the ectoplasm from the blood sample after separation quick enough seemed to keep it from getting destroyed but the blood kept making more and more.

Maddie sighs and leans back, letting the sample turn to a mess, “he’d have to constantly be getting decontaminated. Daily at least. And this, it might hurt him”. Maddie looks to Jack when he doesn’t respond.

Meanwhile, Jack has gotten an idea and mixed in another sample of weaker sentient ectoplasm in with Phantom’s ectoplasm sample; after removing the volatile blood. Watching as Phantom’s ectoplasm devours the foreign ectoplasm and seems to take what it needs from it. Successfully stabilising.

Jack turns to Maddie and lifts up the totally normal-seeming slide of ectoplasm, pointing at Maddie’s ruined blood slide, “try adding a compatible blood sample. Seemed to work for Phantom’s ectoplasm”.

Maddie looks at the slide and shakes her head, “no. The problems aren’t the same, it won’t work. Danny’s blood’s perfectly stable, Phantom’s ectoplasm isn’t, wasn’t. Danny’s blood just needs to not produce ectoplasm”.

Both look up as the DNA sequencer finishes with a beep. Maddie grabbing it due to being closer only to gape down at the four papers. One for Phantom’s separated ectoplasm, one for Danny’s separated blood, one for Phantom’s normal mixture, and one for Danny’s normal mixture.

Unlike with the vials both normal mixtures come out exactly the same. Identical mash ups of ghostly DNA and human DNA. So heavily so that to try and separate it would just destroy everything. Both papers for the separated mixtures showing only half strands of DNA, which would be simply unmaintainable.

Handing them to Jack as she sets up some of Phantom’s separated blood with Jack’s ectoplasm fusion idea applied, to run through the machine.

Jack looks at Maddie as she sits back down before both stare back down at the paper showing Danny’s separated blood samples half formed DNA. Maddie speaking quietly, “even if we could keep his ectoplasm levels down, nothing can survive long with DNA this badly damaged”. Jack just nods as he puts the papers on the table.

While Maddie stares at the DNA sequencer, Jack goes about seeing if the ectoplasm and blood could be fused in a way that would remove the ectoplasm. Nothing works until he accidentally gives one sample a massive electrical shock and knocks over a beaker of raw ectoplasm into it at the same time.

Maddie muttering, “careful honey”, as Jack stands up. Jack stands and waits for a while, the DNA sequencer beeping during that time. Turning his head to her as she grapes the paper.

Maddie whispers down at the paper, “that’s not fair”, and shows it to Jack. The paper showing stable ghost DNA. Jack nods, “so Phantom can be stabilised...but not Danny”.

Maddie whispers again, “that’s just not fair”.

Jack shrugs somewhat defeatedly, “it makes sense though. Ectoplasm is more adaptable. Ghost bodies are less complicated. But...”, Jack sets up another vial with a sample of Danny’s blood separated from its ectoplasm and gives it a massive electrical shock while dumping raw ectoplasm on it.

Maddie raises an eyebrow at him, seriously wondering what exactly he’s doing, while he just points at the microscope. Maddie moves over to it and gasps down at the totally normal sample of human blood, not a speck of ectoplasm. So the ectoplasm could just be destroyed out of the blood, but that...that would certainly destroy Phantom.

Maddie looks over the Jack, who’s gapping. Looking down at the vial he’d electrocuted and seeing ectoplasm, not blood. Jack shakes himself and sets up a slide, giving it over to Maddie while he sits. So Danny, while fused with Phantom, could be made normal again. But separated he seemingly just dies? Why? Is it just because ectoplasm is inherently corrosive to blood but bloods not to ectoplasm? Making the ectoplasm more dominate by default? Or was something else going on?

Maddie looks down at the sample, it was pure regular ghost ectoplasm. Likely Phantom’s. Meaning Danny would fully become Phantom if they tried this on him after separating him from Phantom. Lifting her head up and looking to Jack, “then Phantom’s ectoplasm must be protecting his blood during that electrical shock. But if Phantom’s separated from Danny then his ectoplasm that’s still in Danny is unstable. Too unstable to protect the blood”.

Jack laughs a bit hollowly, “so Phantom’s, if stable, ectoplasm will sacrifice itself to save Danny. That tracks honestly”. Maddie can’t help but laugh as well. Down to the veins Phantom was protective and self-sacrificial. He was good, god he was good. Somehow he managed to go against his nature and become undeniably good, how had they ever seen him as anything else?

Maddie huffs as she calms down, looking over all the samples, “so either Danny could be made a regular human again but destroying Phantom as a result. Or Phantom can be made a stable regular ghost but Danny would slowly die as a result”.

Jack nods before snapping his fingers. Grabbing some samples of the stabilised fully ghost Phantom ectoplasm and making another vial of Danny’s blood with the ectoplasm scraped out. Waiting for it to produce more ectoplasm and then adding in Phantom’s stable full ghost ectoplasm. Watching as it instantly obliterates the unstable ectoplasm. Leaving the sample steaming green but completely red. Waiting as it takes five times as long to produce more unstable ectoplasm and repeating what he did earlier, getting the same result.

Maddie rushes over and takes a sample of the red blood steaming green and sets it up for the DNA sequencer. Both waiting on the results nervously with Jack occasionally adding more Phantom full ghost ectoplasm to Danny’s blood sample, keeping it stable.

Maddie gapes and hands the paper to Jack with slightly shaking hands. Danny’s DNA was completely normal human DNA.

Jack nods and looks at the sample, “so if Phantom functionally and frequently gave him ectoplasm donations he’d be okay”.

“So Danny’d be reliant on Phantom just to keep living”, frowning, “that’s still not fair”. Frowning more as technically Danny currently was already reliant on Phantom to keep living. But at least right now it was mutual. They needed each other explicitly. With this, with just Danny being the reliant one, it would be so easy for Phantom to take advantage of that. Sure Phantom was good, clearly, but he wouldn’t have a human to help him fight his nature and he was still a ghost. Phantom could never truly be trusted, especially separated from Danny.

Jack looks back over to the electrocuted blood sample, Danny wouldn’t want Phantom destroyed. Not a chance. He was clearly okay with how he was, clearly liked Phantom. Whether Phantom was a separate being or just Danny. Because that boldness, Phantom’s boldness, it really could just be Danny couldn’t it? Danny feeling more bold and sure of himself because of how people looked up to Phantom, because of being stronger, because of having powers. But if that was the case then separating them, would just be separating Danny in two. That would be...incredibly cruel. Unless he wants that, which Jack’s pretty sure Danny doesn’t want. He would have asked if he did right? Danny had pretty much ignored the idea of them ‘fixing him’.

Looking at Maddie, “I think we should just leave them, him, as is. Leave it alone”.

Maddie looks at him with a frown, “and just leave him like this? Just accept that he’s partly dead? Partly a ghost? Partly alive? Partly human? It’s one thing a ghost getting hurt the way they clearly do, but Danny’s human. The human part”.

Jack sighs, it was weird and yeah he didn’t like how much his son clearly got hurt. How he was putting himself in danger. Regardless of what one, ‘cause really Phantom’s his son all the same, is the one that wants to engage in the fights. Wants to protect people. Sighing again, and pointing at the samples, “maybe, maybe viewing them as separate creatures is wrong. Danny-boy said hybrid, not fusion”.

Maddie screws up her face, he acted different in these forms. What other reason could there possibly be for that, “they have different behaviors, sure they’re similar. Of course, they are, Phantom’s Danny’s ghost. They should be similar. And Danny’s fourteen Jack, how could he know exactly what he is? And couldn’t he just be convincing himself that him and Phantom are one and the same?”.

Jack shrugs, “but by being Danny’s ghost he is technically Danny anyway. And if I had powers, could fight ectoplasmic horrors with nothing but my bare fists with ease, if I was basically adored by nearly an entire town; I’d be more cocky too. Those are all a bunch of major ego boosters Mads”.

Maddie nods, it did make sense. Just having weapons on her made her feel more in control and stronger. Being Phantom potentially gave that to Danny to an extreme. So maybe they were the same. Looking over to the two identical DNA samples, from Danny’s blood and Phantom’s -or Danny’s- ectoplasm. They were identical in every way. Running her fingers over the two papers, this, they had to be the same. It was science, and science didn’t lie. Even if you didn’t like it, and yes, she didn’t like it.

Putting the papers on the table, “so hybrid. One being. One mind. One body. One set of desires. Not a fusion. Not two of anything”, Maddie shakes her head, she needed further proof, “but Phantom’s affected by anti-ghost stuff, we’ve seen Danny walk through shields and wear the deflector fine. And we haven’t seen Danny use Phantom’s powers. If they’re the same then Danny should be able to use them and Phantom able to be unaffected by anti-ghost stuff”.

Jack shakes his head, thinking of how Danny’s forms seemed to change whether he had more ectoplasm or more blood, “he’s got more ectoplasm while ghost, that logically should make him more susceptible to anti-ghost stuff. And Mads, Danny is affected by our stuff. The detectors? And maybe, maybe he avoids our weapons because they hurt him regardless not because he’s skittish of them. As for the powers, maybe we really should just ask him to show us if he can?”.

“I was going to ask him too anyway. If he can. And of course, Danny sets off detectors, he has Phantom’s ectoplasm in him regardless. Overshadowed humans will set off those same detectors”.

Jack looks up at the ceiling, the best they could do was speculate. They needed more answers from Danny, “we should talk to him then. He’s clearly okay telling us. Heck! He’s probably holding back on information to avoid freaking us out. I would be!”.

Maddie nods as she gets up, it made sense that he would be avoidant of acting ghostly or doing ghost things. He had said he was worried, afraid even, of how they’d react to the ghost stuff. Looking at Jack and nodding again, “so that we’re clear. Danny is our son, Phantom is our son. Regardless of whether they’re the same person or not and regardless of if they’re ghost, human, hybrid, fused or anything else. Now or in the future”.

Jack nods strongly, “absolutely. We don’t want to lose either one and we will accept both of them or all of him. Whatever’s more accurate”.

Maddie smiles as she walks up the stairs, heads to Danny’s room and knocks on the door, “you up sweetie?”.

“Yeah, I’m guessing you guys want to talk more now?”.

Maddie laughs lightly, he literally had been giving them some time to adjust and think, “yeah and we tested somethings we’d like to talk to you about”.

Danny sticks his head out the door and stares at her for a beat before shuffling nervously, “um, I’m not sure if I like that or not. Weren’t you just checking my aliveness?”.

“You’re pulse proves you’re alive already sweetie, at least alive enough. We’re more curious how your DNA is and difference between your... forms”.

Danny nods and rubs his neck as he walks out, “that makes sense, I guess. And I can tell you’re still kind of iffy on the forms thing. It’s weird, yeah, but all me”.

Maddie smiles softly as they head down into the lab, she was pretty well sure he felt that way already but she was going to maintain her doubts currently, “that is something we’ve been debating. How connected you are and if Phantom’s really you”.

Jack can tell Danny’s nervous as soon as he looks at him. Having heard what his wife said, “regardless we love all of you, or both of you, which ever’s closer”.

Danny blinks and looks between the two of them before smiling slightly, “thanks. I uh, that means a lot”, shifting on his feet some before walking to a chair and sitting down, “so you guys would be okay with me even if I was all Phantom? Fully ghost?”.

Both of them nod readily. Jack smiling, “you’re our son. Danny or Phantom. Danny and Phantom. Or even if Phantom is just a”, chuckling, “superhero name you have yourself”.

That seems to be enough to get Danny to laugh and relax a little, smirking slightly, “Phantom is a pun. It sounds like Fenton and Phantom is another world for ghost”.

Maddie tilts her head, “so you created the name? What about Phantom’s symbol?”.

Danny snorts and blushes slightly, “Sam designed that”.

Now Maddie’s incredibly confused. If that wasn’t just naturally part of Phantom’s form and neither aspect or part or half of Danny made it then how? “How'd Sam’s Doodle wind up on your chest permanently? Part of Phantom’s body?”.

“Oh yeah, that was a really weird day. I wound up fully human again and got amnesia because of some reality-altering, so she stuck a fabric cut-out of the design on my chest before I re-half-died”.

Jack and Maddie gape at him. Both stunned stupid that he had already became fully human again, destroyed Phantom, but intentionally made himself like this again. That was one massive ‘I want to be and am happy this way’ sign if there ever was one. Dying, even partly, had to be horribly painful.

Jack’s the one to ask, “so you had the option to be normal, full human, again but choose not to?”.

Danny nods, “well yeah, I’m happy like this. I don’t want to change it, I, um, really really do not”.

Both parents can see Danny’s slightly freaked out now, both believing that he was genuinely that bothered by being ‘fixed’ but Maddie’s wondering if that’s Phantom’s influence.

Danny obviously can tell she’s wondering about that as he speaks up again, “and yeah that was entirely mine, as in full human Danny’s, decision. The amnesia, I literally forgot about being Phantom, the powers, all of it. Which yeah, I uh, was really confused about all the scaring that morning. Oh actually, everyone forgot about Phantom existing at all. But well, Sam remembered and she had a scrapbook and told me stories. The decision was easy once I knew she was telling the truth”.

Jack nods and smiles, “well that settles that then”.

Danny blinks and squints at them, “you guys were...trying to test if I could be fixed? Were you?”.

They both nod, feeling a little sheepish about it now that they actually had to confirm that was what they were doing and knowing that Danny explicitly wouldn’t and didn’t want that. Jack clears his throat, “separated really. So that Phantom would be fine too. We didn’t and don’t want to hurt the human or the ghost. But well...”.

Maddie looks at the ground before pointing at all the exploded samples and generalised mess. Jack, meanwhile, is noting that Danny actually looks more freaked out not less.

Danny squirms in his seat and leans away from his parents, looking down at the ground, “I, um, splitting me. That would be, um, really really bad. I could have told you that”.

Maddie nods, “yeah neither split sample was stable, basically self-destructed-”.

Danny cuts her off, jerking his head up and squinting at her, “wait...what? You, um, sure about that? There wasn’t, say, someweirdcombiningfullyghostmewithanotherghostthatstabilisedfullghostme?”.The last bit coming out in a rush and starling Maddie and Jack. That was way too specific to be a generalised guess.

Jack and Maddie look at each other before nodding at Danny. While Danny blinks, “wait. So full split human me would have died too?”, now Danny just looks incredibly confused and the parents know they’re missing something here.

Jack nods, “yeah. It would have been gradual because the DNA was all messed up. But! We figured out that split human you could survive so long as split ghost you gave ectoplasm donations”.

Maddie nods at Jack and looks to Danny, “so it is possible. For both of you to survive. Just full...human, Danny would be reliant on Phantom”.

They barely hear him mutter, “that fruitloop is an idiot”, before shaking his head and looking at them, “theoretically that would work. But, uh, not I practice. You see, um, I’ve been split before. Twice actually”.

Both of them breathe out, “what?!?”.

Danny nods and looks around, “the uh, first time wasn’t exactly done right. Your dream catcher thingy did it”, blinking and snorting, “actually it’s happened three times. Twice by the dream catcher. It’s just the um, first time only lasted a couple of seconds. Gave me a mild concussion and split my consciousness between the bodies. So I was aware of what both were doing, scared the hell out of me. Even if it was only five seconds or so. The second my personality split”, Danny cringes, “human Danny was lazy, kind of mean, and somehow had a mullet. Ghost Danny basically acted like Superman and decided wearing a bedsheet was a good idea. It was bad. It sort of, um, devolved? into both Danny’s being halfas but with different powers. Only one could fly, only one could shot ecto-blasts. Not fun”.

Thankfully all three end up snickering or laughing by the end, it was rather ridiculous sounding.

Maddie smiles, “I’m guessing the only reason your...two bodies were stable was because it wasn’t done right as you said? So they both still had stable ectoplasm and blood”.

While Jack laughs a little, “we definitely don’t want to split your personality! Seems that thing sure caused you a lot of hassle!”.

Danny nods with a smile before dropping it and looking away from them. Rubbing at his neck, “it did and yeah mom. But the other, or the third, time was successful. Full separation into a full human and full ghost. But, um, that incident is why I’d rather just be destroyed entirely than split, like, ever. It’s, um, also why I decided to tell you guys about being Phantom. It, uh, well, it happened yesterday”.

Jack and Maddie were a little too startled by the whole ‘I’d rather not exist at all than be split’ thing to interrupt him.

Maddie breathes out, “what...what happened?”, not able to think of any other words.

Danny shivers and flinches a little, deeply worrying both parents, before he speaks, “honestly, I’d rather not talk about it. But, um, I should. Need to really. But it’s well, complicated. There’s time travel and alternate realities involved”, Danny shifts a bit, “so the C.A.T. right? I didn’t really get to study so I sort of, well, intended to cheat. I didn’t, obviously, but just intent was enough. It resulted in you guys, Jazz. Sam, Tucker and Mr. Lancer all dying and me getting adopted by crazy fruitloop idiot who decided splitting me would be a good idea”.

Maddie waves her hands so Danny pauses, everyone looking a little ill, “what do you mean we died?”.

Danny clears his throat, “I time-traveled to undo it. But it happened, the only reason I survived the explosion that happened was because of being a halfa”, shifting, “but anyway. Got split. Ghost half got combined with another ghost, and, um, went utterly insane. Murdered the human half and, uh, went on to destroyallofhumanitymostghostsandwouldhaveeventuallydestroyedeverythingandone”, looking at the floor after breathing for a bit, Maddie and Jack a bit in shock, as Danny continues, “splitting me, it will basically cause the end of the world”, shifting again and looking up at them, “but, uh, I fought evil older me, trapped him in a thermos, and a friend reversed time because”, making quotation marks with his fingers, “you’ve given everyone else in your life a second chance. Why not you?”. Danny shrugs and he looks around, pretty well rambling at this point, “their name’s ClockWork, they’re great. Really great. Sort of like ghostly adopted me, legally responsible for me, all that stuff. They’re really old and like puns. The only good thing to come out of yesterday. Well, and deciding to finally tell you guys. So, um, uh, please don’t die...or try to split me. Just, like, forget that’s even possible, please?”.

Danny shrinks down in his seat as they both stare at him.

Both of them find it completely insane that their boy could every be that dangerous or hurt anyone, none the less the entire world. But it’s clear from his behavior that he’s telling the truth. Wondering if this is just something Danny could be or if this was because of Phantom’s ghostly influence. Or if Phantom wasn’t as good as they thought and it was just human Danny’s influence that made him good. Jack blinking and realising that yeah, combining two ghosts probably wouldn’t be good for either ghost. Neither having really thought much on the potential negative mental effects of being split.

After a while Danny speaks up again, breaking them out of their thoughts, “um could you say something before my brain leaks out my ears or something?”.

Jack clears his throat, “we won’t try to split you. But Danny-boy, are you er sure all of that would happen? If you got split?”.

While Maddie whispers, “that must have been traumatising”.

Danny nods slightly, looking at Maddie, “it was”, looking at Jack, “good and no, but, um, I’m not testing that out. Ever. There’s no reason to split me or force me full human again. I don’t want that”.

Both parents look to each other and nod before giving Danny a strong nod. Everyone’s feeling a bit better.

Maddie scrunches her eyebrows, “um sweetie? Why did no one stop you? Why did you have to do it? Hunters? Other ghosts? Why couldn’t they?”.

Danny rubs his neck awkwardly, “too strong. I’m, well, a lot stronger than you think. The, um, destruction thing, took ten years. And that was with evil me being as affected by anti-ghost stuff as much as a regular ghost”.

Jack nods, Danny being stronger than expected was actually expected. Of course, he wouldn’t go all out against ghosts or hunters. He’s not actually trying to hurt them, just subdue them or get them to leave him alone. Deciding to satisfy other curiosities and make this conversation less depressing because he kind of felt like he was drowning right now, “so anti-ghost stuff does affect you less?”.

Danny jerks and blinks, clearly caught off guard. But nods, “anti-ghost stuff affects me regardless of form, just well, less than it should for a normal ghost and even less when I’m, you know, human”.

Jack nods and smiles, so he was avoiding their tech for a reason, “well I’m sorry if our stuff ever hurt you”.

Danny shrugs and looks around awkwardly, “I don’t mind. But, uh, thanks”.

Maddie blinks, realising that it wasn’t just Phantom that didn’t mind the injuries. Making her look to Jack, maybe he really was right, Danny too. Hybrid not a fusion of two. Blurting out, “and Phantom’s powers? Can you use them regardless?”.

“It’s a slightly harder but yeah. I use them accidentally a lot”, Danny blushes at that and looks away from them as he holds up his arm and turns it invisible.

Maddie and Jack share a look and nod. Maddie speaking again, “then you really must be one and the same”.

Danny blinks, “well yeah. Always have been”.

Jack smiles and pats Danny on the shoulder, “you just act and hold yourself different when you’re Phantom. That’s because of the power boost and hero work, isn’t it?”.

Danny nods, “yeah pretty much. And Phantom doesn’t have to hide the powers, the strength, the ghostly knowledge. Phantom just interacts with civilians in passing. Fenton has to hide everything and deal with people all the time. As Phantom I’ve just got a job to do, make sure I use my ‘civilians voice’ when talking to people, and avoid hunters. As Fenton I have to be paranoid about everything. How I dress, otherwise the muscles and scars might be questioned. What language I speak, reigning in my strength, covering up accidental power use, making sure I look fully human, and yeah. That and I have to intentionally act different otherwise people might realise it’s me”, shrugging, “it’s, uh, a lot harder to intentionally make myself act different while fighting than while at school or eating supper”.

Maddie frowns sadly a little, “so Phantom’s more accurate to who you are?”.

Danny nods and rubs his neck, “sorta? The civilians' voice is an act, the rest, not so much. I’ve gotten a little used to playing the weakling shy kid as Fenton, so it’s uh, hard to turn off sometimes”.

Maddie nods, both parents thinking back to how Danny used to be before the accident and how he really had been rather outgoing, loud, an endless jokester. Phantom was much more dramatic, more of a showman, but that could be read as just having more confidence and a bit of ghosts nature for dramatics. Meanwhile, he had never really been the shy kid, reserved and close off sometimes sure, but not shy.

Jack nods with a smile, “well you don’t have to keep it up around us! It’ll be a little weird you doing ghostly things but we’ll get used to it!”.

Maddie nods before ruffling his hair, “we don’t want you pretending. We’ll learn to accept it”.

Danny nods, “that's good enough. I mean, obviously I’d like acceptance. But well, trying is fine and it’ll be kind of, uh, weird? using my abilities around you. But, um, please actually ask me things. I know myself well, more or less”.

The two nod, clearly their boy had been through more than they actually knew. Both feeling pretty well sure that Phantom really was Danny, not some potentially malicious ghost of himself that he was just fused to. It was also insanely clear that breaking the bond of his two sides, his halfs, would be bad. And even if it was safe, Danny clearly didn’t want that and not because of any ghostly influence on him.

Jack blinks, remembering something Danny said earlier, “wait, you were adopted by a ghost?”, blinking again and going wide-eyed, “wait, there’s a ghost that can CONTROL TIME?!?”.

Danny snorts and laughs, “heh, yeah there sure is and they sure did. Humans know them as Father Time, and well....”.

The three spend the rest of the afternoon talking about the enigmatic time ghost and all the tales they had told Danny last night, tales of past kings, of art causing mass panic, of people building sexy Satan statues to piss off the church; some of the strange things they had watched over the eons retold in grand fashion to a young hero, who just needed to forget their trauma for a night.

End.

[ourownsideimagines]

Hit Me With Your Car, Then Hit Me With Some Feelings (Crowley x Fem!Device!Reader)

Characters: Anathema, Crowley, Aziraphale, fem!Device!Reader

Requested: Yes 

Requested by: Anon

Point of View: Second Person

Summary: (Name) Device wasn’t always a fan of her ancestor’s prophecies, but when they bring her together with a certain demon she has no complaints. 

Warnings: I might have cursed?

Words: 2595

A/N: I’ve been playing Blush Blush all day and almost didn’t finish this I’m so sorry- I was up to 11:30 writing this lol

---

You had never had the best relationship with your family. You were the younger of two children, and your older sister Anathema always got the largest bit of your parents attention. 

And it was all because of that damn book.

You had been raised on The Nice and Accurate Prophecies of Agnes Nutter, a book that spoke about the future, though it wasn’t always legible. It told of the impending apocalypse, which, if it was true (and sometimes even you doubted), it would be happening Saturday evening, in the village of Tadfield in the United Kingdom. It also spoke of how your sister would help try to stop it. How she would end up with a well endowed man - not that you exactly wanted to think about that. It was disturbing the kinds of things Agnes wrote about, in your opinion. Your mother seemed none too bothered by it, and after years of studying the prophecies, Anathema didn’t either. At least, not on the outside.

“She’s never lead us wrong before,” She had told you. “I’m not going to pay her back with doubt.”

You knew hundreds and hundreds of the prophecies by heart. Your mother had forced you into memorising them, like one would memorize a play script. You would practice until you could not get it wrong. Anathema always seemed one step ahead of you, though. Always knew the mistakes you made, pointed out when your words were wrong. There was a part of you that envied her, a part of you that hated her, and a part of you that wanted to keep her safe because as much of a pain as she was you cared about her. You cared about all your family.

The prophecies that spoke of you said nothing much about your help in the stopping apocalypse - one spoke of a tall, red haired man who would become important to you. Another spoke of a car, and an accident, and your... 

You didn’t particularly want to think about it.

 All you knew was, despite the fact you didn’t actually know your part in stopping the end of the world, you were flying with Anathema to the UK, where you would stay at Jazmine cottage in Tadfield.

That was how you ended up in a field, late in the night, with the book, using your tools to look for the Anti Christ. Anathema had taken the day search this time, which you would no doubt have to do tomorrow despite how tired you would be when you wake up. And the cycle would continue until you found the Anti Christ, or the world ended. Whichever came first.

“Darksome Night,/ And Shining Moon,” You leaned down towards your telescope, and tried to adjust it, only to get a view of some trees. “Damn it.” You hissed. Then, you looked skyward. “I understand you want us to stop the apocalypse,” You spoke sharply, the way you always did when speaking to Agnes. “But you could have given us more to work with.”

You spent another 15 minutes  in the empty field, the only light coming from the moon above and the IPad in your lap. It all felt hopeless - you couldn’t get any kind of accurate fix. Anathema would be upset, no doubt, but you knew she wouldn’t be upset with you. At least, you hoped she wouldn’t be.

You gather up the item you had brought - the book, your IPad, your journal, the small telescope, and your blanket. You dropped them carefully into the basket attached to the old bike Anathema had brought with you guys from home, and began your journey back to Jasmine cottage.

Every time you got on the bike, you worried the accident Agnes predicted would occur. That you would be covered in “Heavenly light” as Agnes put it, which most of the family had guessed to mean death. You didn’t particularly want to die. But tonight you decide you weren’t going to let fear control you - you were going to enjoy your late night ride back to the village, the cool wind blowing through your hair as you biked down the path.

And that’s when it happened. You’d closed your eyes to take in a deep breath of air when, from out of nowhere, a big black car appeared on the dirt road you were crossing. You let out a scream as your bike slammed into the side, sending it and yourself flipping over the hood and into the grass on the other side. You let out a pained gasp as you hit your head on the hard dirt, followed by the snapping of your wrist. Your vision danced with stars that you weren’t sure were the ones in the sky or the ones in your head. You could faintly hear the opening and closing of car doors, followed by two men speaking in hushed tones. Then, one of them called out;

“Let there be light!” And snapped. You were suddenly engulfed in what you could only describe as an ethereal glow, you cautiously hold your good hand up to block your eyes.

“How the hell did you…” A wave of pain washed through you, and it felt like your skull had split in half. “Fuck, my head.” You groaned. There was another snap and the light extinguished itself. There was a moment before someone was at your side, and in the darkness you could just make out their silhouette - it was a man, from what you could tell, in a tan coat.

“There we are, no broken bones.” He murmured, and the pain you’d been feeling in your wrist vanished. You gently lifted your head so that you could get a better look at him. He looked like a kind man with blond hair so light it was almost white. He helped you to your feet, and you groaned through the ache of your bones. When he began guiding you towards the road, you protested softly.

“My bike.” You said.

“Oh!” The man turned, and before you could follow he was beside you with the bike - but it didn’t quite look like your bike. “Amazingly resilient, these old machines.” He said, but you couldn’t take your eyes off the bike. “Where did you need to get to?”

“No!” Protested another man who stood by the car you had hit. You noticed the shock of red hair atop his head, and how he seemed to blend into the night. “No, we are not giving her a lift.” He argued. You nodded quickly.

“It’s alright, really. I don’t need a ride.” You said.

“Oh, my dear, after what just happened I believe it’s the least we could do.” The blond man reassured you with a smile. There was a part of you that felt safe, but another part of you felt like you were forgetting something.

“Out of the question, we don’t have anywhere to put the bike.” The red head argued.

“Except for the bike rack.” Said the blond man, turning back to the car. “Do get in, my dear.” He told you. You watched as the blond man took your bike to the back of the car, where there was in fact a bike rack, and secured your bike. You stumbled gently to the car, where the red headed man held open the door, though from what you could tell he was doing so unwillingly.

“I’m so sorry for hitting your car.” You told him. You brought your hand up to your head, and felt something wet slick your fingers. “I’m usually much more,” You winced. “Much more careful.” There was a silence as you brought your hand out to see what was on your fingers, but the red headed man tore your gaze up with a cough. When you look back down, your fingers were clean, like nothing had been on them at all. You looked back up, and the man looked a little more relaxed, but still obviously upset.

“Where are we taking you?” He asked.

“Oh, just, um, back to the village, if that’s no trouble. I can give you directions.” You said softly. The man nodded, and offered you a hand to help you inside the car. You settled down, trying to make sense of whatever it was that just happened. The men slid into the front of the car, the red head in the driver's seat. The blond man turned to you with a kind smile and passed you all the items that must have fallen out of your basket when you hit the car. You thanked him, and the car seemed to come to life without any sort of key being turned.

The radio began to blare the familiar tune of Queen’s “Bicycle Race”, which made you turn your head curiously to look back at your own bike.

What about it was so… off?

You looked forward again. You gave directions. A turn here. A turn there. Then, it hit you.

“Turn left-” You stopped. “Gears.”

“Pardon?” Said the blond man.

“Gears.” You said again. “I don’t… I don’t think my bike has gears but…” You looked back again. “How hard did I hit my head?”

“Oh lord, heal this bike.” The red head man sang beneath his breath, so low you almost didn’t hear it over the music.

“I got carried away.” His companion grumbled. You saw the roof of the cottage and let out a sigh.

“It’s just up here - the cottage with the lights on.” Anathema must have been awake, you assumed. You gathered everything up in your arms. The car came to a stop, and the blond man got out. He helped you out of the car and brought you around the front, where you discovered that your bike had already been removed from the rack, and was propped against the brick wall.

The gears you’d seen before were gone.

“See, no gears.” The man said. “Just a perfectly normal velocipede.”

“Bicycle.” The other man corrected him, having popped out of the car.

“Thank you, uh, for the ride.” You said. “I’m so sorry again for, uh, hitting your car. I hope I didn’t cause any damage.”

“None.” The red headed man said. “All’s well that ends well. Let’s get on, Angel. Get in.” He slipped back into the car, and you quietly moved your bike inside the wall, watching as the drove off. You secured the bike with a chain, and entered the cottage.

“How did it go?” Anathema asked. You let out a deep sigh as you set everything down.

“I’ve got nothing new. No leads. The signal got totally swamped.” You told her. “Though I did had a strange encounter on the way back.”

“Strange how?”

“Well, I was on the bike, and then,” As you explained it to her, Anathema looked more and more interested, and perked up when you mentioned the red headed man and the crash.

“It must be the accident Agnes warned about.”

“I guess, but-” You began, but Anathema cut you off.

“Wait. (Name), where’s the book?” She asked.

“What do you mean it’s right-” You stopped dead when you realised that the book was not among the thing you’d brought back into the cottage.

It was still in the car. And those men were long gone.

That was almost a month ago, before you’d learned Crowley and Aziraphale’s names, before you’d decided to move to London, and days before the two supernatural beings, along with your sister, her new boyfriend Newt, the Antichrist and his three friends ended Armageddon. You had felt rather useless through the whole affair, but had gained one good thing out of it - friendship. Specifically, a friendship with Crowley the demon.

He hadn’t been to keen on friendship at first, the lingering memory of you crashing into his beloved car with your bike still there. But he had warmed up to you, had even assisted in getting you properly moved into your own cottage, away from your sister and Newt.

Today, you were sitting with him, having tea when your sister arrived. Crowley, who had been basking in the sunlight coming in through your windows, sat up and put his sunglasses back on.

“Hello, Anathema.” You said. “I wasn’t expecting you until three.” You told her as you stood to give her a hug.

“I decided to come over a bit early. Hello, Crowley.” She said.

“Afternoon.” Crowley nodded to her.

“I brought the herbs you said you needed, along with the tarot cards you left at Jasmine.”

“You’re a saint, sis.” You said as she handed them over. “So, what are you and lover boy up to today?”

“Oh, nothing much. Probably going to take a walk. Maybe drive out to a field and have lunch.”

“You’ve gone soft,” You joked. “The Anathema I knew would have never gone on such a romantic outing.”

“Well, now that the prophecies are all played out, I figured it was time to start making my own decisions.”

“You told me,” You sat back down in your arm chair. “Staying long?”

“Probably not.” She looked over at Crowley, not with distaste, but also not happily. “I can see you’re already preoccupied.”

“Doesn’t mean I don’t wanna hang out with my sister.” You reminded her. Anathema shook her head lightly with a laugh.

“No, no, I really should be going now.” Then, she paused. “(Name).” You hummed gently, and then she began speaking to you in spanish. Your mother had taught you to speak both at a young age, and for a moment you didn’t understand why. Then, when she finished, you felt your cheeks heat up, becoming a blushing mess as Anathema bid you farewell and quickly exited the cottage,

“What was that?” Crowley asked, taking his glasses off again and setting them aside.

“It’s, uh, nothing.” You rushed out. “I’m gonna, uh, I’m gonna go get some, uh, some food. Cheese.” You turned quickly, retreating into the kitchen. You couldn’t believe her sometimes. 

You rummaged through your fridge, hoping to buy yourself enough time to calm down. You grabbed the cheese you had stored in the fridge and all but slammed the door shut. You let out a deep sigh, and reentered your living room. Crowley had gotten up, and was currently amusing himself with your lamp. When he saw you enter, he cleared his throat.

“Hey, (name),” He took some steps closer to you, and you could feel your cheeks heating up even worse than before. You cursed yourself, and Anathema, internally.

“Yeah, Crowley?”

“Do you know how long I’ve been alive?” He asked. You stopped to ponder this before realize that, no, you had never actually asked. You shook your head. “Six thousand years.” He told you.

“Wow, didn’t realize you were such an old fart.” You attempted to joke, laughing nervously to yourself.

“Do you know what I’ve learned to do in six thousand years?” He asked innocently.

“What?”

“To speak Spanish.” This caused your blood to run cold. If he wasn’t lying, and you were certain he wasn’t, then he understood what Anathema had said. You wanted to scream with every bone in your body, but you didn’t. “And she wasn’t wrong.”

“W-what?”

“I said she wasn’t wrong.” He repeated himself. “She’s actually very… nice and accurate.” He joked. 

“So you…”

“Yes.” Crowley’s eyes never left yours. You gulped.

“Well, uh, in case you were wondering, I, uh, I-” He cut you off, pressing his lips gently to your own.

You made a mental note to thank Anathema later.

[quaalussy]

Dreamboy Episode 7: The Rally

Hi I’m back with another Dreamboy transcript, this is a great episode! Sorry for any mistakes I might have made.  Also: if you’re looking to hire a transcriptionist for your podcast or anything else please feel free to shoot me a message, I’m always looking for work!

LITTLE KIDS [sung]

She won’t be able to run in the grass

She won’t be able to lay in the sun 

She won’t say hi to the people who pass

She won’t see hi to anyone

She won’t be able to love or dream or anything else that we said 

Cause zebras can’t do anything after they are dead

[CROWD CHEERING AND CLAPPING]

DIANA

Thank you! Thank you! Keep it going for Ms. Hernandez’s second-grade class from Pepper Heights Elementary, with the shockingly accurate little ditty that they wrote! Wow! Thank you, kiddies. Now don’t let your energies flag, kids. Everyone, I know it’s getting late, I know we’re tired and scared and wondering whether this is all gonna lead up to anything useful, but it is. We’re gonna stay here and we’re gonna.. we’re gonna keep our feet planted on the ground until our demands are met. I, Diana Greasefire, am determined to have our voices heard. I will stay here with my zebra striped sleeping bag and my zebra striped mask, and I will sleep here until I get answers. Alright come on how’re we, how’re we doing out there?

[CROWD CHEERING AND CLAPPING]

DIANA Good? 

[CROWD CHEERING AND CLAPPING]

DIANA Oh, I can’t hear you.

[CROWD CHEERING AND CLAPPING LOUDER]

DIANA Yeah? What do we say?

CROWD

SAVE ZOE!

DIANA What do we say?

CROWD SAVE ZOE!

DIANA WHAT DO WE SAY?

CROWD 

SAVE ZOE!

[CROWD CHEERING AND CLAPPING]

DIANA That’s right. Now, we have a long night of rallying ahead so have some coffee. It’s free over at that table, donated by the lovely folks down at Settler’s Coffee. 

[SMALL GROUP CHEERS]

DIANA

I tell you this little sexy zebra print number has served me well the last few weeks down at The Hussy, but if I’m honest, now that I'm outside in this cooler October night air, I just wish there were a little bit more of it. But then again, how else am I gonna get Mr. Kritch to come out and talk to us?

[CROWD BOOS]

DIANA We know you’re in there, Kritchy! We know you ain’t leaving anytime soon, cause your car is currently surrounded by morbid second-graders. 

DIANA [to child]

Go on sweetie, yeah you can stand on the car, jump up and down.

DIANA [to crowd]

Okay. so, I'm gonna bring up my co-host, you may know her from other animal activism activities. She is currently working to educate uhhh people about uhh, hang on I have to read this part. “The effect of deforestation on the delicate symbiotic evolutionary relationship between the Madagascar Honey Orchid and the Madagascar Honey Wasp, its only known pollinator.” Well, that’s a mouthful. Anyway, please welcome to the stage Carol Buxtrom!

[CROWD CHEERS AND CLAPS]

CAROL

Thanks, Diana. Uh, you look really good. [clears throat] Whoa, okay. All of you out there you all are really rad to show up for a cause like this. When I think about this issue, I just get so worked up and angry, and I didn't trust myself to not get all emotional up here, so I wrote it down. So I’m just gonna read this and try to, you know, stay calm and Carol on. Okay, here goes. [clears throat] Last summer on August 29th, just after one A.M., a scared and defenseless wild animal had its space violated by an intruder, and in a split second reaction of fear, defended itself to the best of its ability. The intruder was a boy named Ian Harris, and he was killed. Our hearts go out to his family, but that wild animal is a zebra named Zoe that has spent nearly sixteen years interacting with the publics here at Pepper Heights with no incidents. Tomorrow morning, Judge Elizabeth Gardner [sobs] is set to. Sorry. [sobs]

[CROWD CHEERS]

CAROL

Is set to announce her decision about the euthanization of Zoe the zebra. She could very well decide to end Zoe’s life based on incidents that were not at all her fault, but we still have tonight to let her know how Pepper Heights really feels, so let’s be a loud voice in her ear. Everybody: 

[CROWD CHEERS]

CAROL

Get out your phones and tweet: #SaveZoe at Judge Elizabeth Gardner. Go ahead, everybody, do it now. Or you could email too, judgeegardner@hotmail.com. 

DIANA

Hotmail? Oh my god. Can I hear some of her songs on Myspace? [laughs]

CAROL

While you guys do that, I wanted to read some uhh zebra facts to you that you might not know. Uhhh, okay. Zoe the zebra’s latin name is Equus quagga. 

[CROWD CHEERS]

CAROL When zebras stay in groups, their stripes confuse the eyes of would-be predators, making it hard to single out an individual. The stripes of each zebra are unique, like...

DANE [to listener]

The all-night rally. I totally forgot it was tonight. It’s fucking going strong now too in the parking lot. Jesus, like everybody from Pepper Heights is here. I’m just wandering through the crowd, everybody all around me in their zebra shirts with their “SAVE ZOE” signs, and my head is killing me because I haven’t eaten like anything all day, and I just got escorted out of my work place by Sheila fucking Panzarelli and then told to wait here by a fucking twelve year old. Which, I was so out of it that I actually did for a minute before I was like “what the fuck am I doing?” Also, why the fuck is Sheila doing security sweeps? [sighs]. I should probably just go home. Hey, I know that guy from the coffee shop. Wait, maybe they have free food here. The crowd is starting to get very bored of the wasp lady’s zebra facts. 

CAROL Zebras are not horses, people.

DANE I see Luke looking down at his phone on the side of the crowd. He looks up, and for some reason I do that thing where I act like I don’t see him, and I think I’ll just look back in a couple of seconds and casually see him, but when I look back he’s walking away, like maybe he didn’t see me the first time? So I start to thread through the crowd to follow him, but I keep losing sight of him, and the boring science channel stuff on stage apparently signaled bathroom and coffee break to everyone, so they’re all moving around. And all of them are wearing zebra stripes so they all blend together, like, my eyes hurt. Where the fuck did he go? I think- there, there. No. there! No. I literally feel like a starving lion trying to pick a meal out of the black and white swirl. Jesus, this really works, good job nature. So I start moving quicker through the crowd, and I think I'm turned around, I'm going to the middle again? People are really starting to jostle me now. The murmurs have turned into full on talking, like no one’s even pretending to pay attention to the stage, which is somewhere behind me at this point. There! I see him again. He’s just fifteen feet from me, facing the other way.

DANE [to crowd]

Excuse me, excuse me, sorry, sorry.

DANE [to listener]

I bump into some teenage boys, I pass a  family, almost tripping over a stroller. Finally I get up to him, and I reach up and tap his shoulder.

DANE [to boy]

Luke. 

DANE [to listener]

He turns around, but it’s not Luke. it’s just another boy. 

DANE [to boy]

Oh, s-sorry. No I just… I thought you were someone else. 

DANE [to listener]

I turn back towards the stage. It’s just a sea of writhing zebra stripes. Then someone taps my arm. I turn around quick, but I don't see anyone. Wait, it’s a kid. Like, seven years old maybe? Standing there and looking up at me. 

DANE [to kid]

Hey. Do you need help?

DANE [to listener]

He hands me a flier. I take it and look at it, but it’s not a “SAVE ZOE” flier. It just says “#WHATABOUTIAN” in big, bold type. I look back up at him, but he’s already running back out of the crowd. And then he disappears into a smaller crowd at the side of the rally that I hadn't noticed before. They’re counter-protestors. Some of them have signs that say the same thing: “#WHATABOUTIAN”, and others have signs that have two pictures side by side on them. The first picture is Ian as a little kid, smiling and playing in the grass, but the second picture is the police photo of when they found his dead body. Wow, it’s intense.

CAROL 

A group of zebras is referred to as a herd, dazzle, or a zeal. Ha! which is totally neat. Of course, Zoe is a single zebra which is, you know, just called a zebra. Umm-

DIANA

Ok, Carol, thank you. 

[LIGHT APPLAUSE]

DIANA

Let’s do more facts later.

CAROL Oh, Okay. Anyone who has questions can talk to me later.

DIANA Okay! [sighs] Okay Kritchy, you coward! I am standing here in my zebra striped dress with my zebra striped sleeping bag, in case this goes long, and my thermos of hot toddies and my zebra slippers, and I am waiting for you to get up the courage to come out here and look me in my face. What do we say, everyone?

CROWD SAVE ZOE!

DIANA What do we say?

CROWD SAVE ZOE!

DIANA

That’s right!

[CROWD CHEERS AND CLAPS]

DIANA

I think we should try to enchant Mr. Kritch out to talk to us with a little song. 

[ACOUSTIC GUITAR CHORD]

DIANA What do you say, everybody? You wanna sing together with me? Come on, you ready? Here. 

[BEGINS TO PLAY GUITAR]

DIANA I’ll start us off.

[GUITAR INTRO]

DIANA [sung]

We shall overcome

We shall overcome

We shall overcome someday 

PERSON IN CROWD I love you Diana!!

[CROWD CHEERS AND CLAPS]

DIANA [sung]

Deep in my heart

I do believe

We shall overcome someday

DIANA

We’ll walk hand in hand!

CROWD [sung]

We’ll walk hand in hand 

We’ll walk hand in hand

We’ll walk hand in hand someday

[SONG CONTINUES UNDER THE FOLLOWING]

DANE [to listener] I swear I just heard Luke’s voice. Like, close by. I look around, but I don't see him. Then, a huge zebra striped balloon floats by, and I look. I watch it pass, and then Luke is right there, just ten feet from me. He sees me too. He doesn’t seem surprised, though. I walk up to him slowly, and he puts his phone in his pocket and straightens up. As I get closer I can see his face. It’s sort of a mix of shy and embarrassed and glad and pouty all at the same time. 

LUKE Hey. 

DANE Hey.

LUKE

What’s up?

DANE Nothing, what’s up with you?

LUKE Nothing. 

DANE AND LUKE

[unintelligible]

[BOTH LAUGH]

LUKE Yeah, so look, I just um, you know-

JENNIFER

There you are, jesus! Why didn’t you stay over there?

DANE

Fuck, Jennifer! Because I'm not your poodle. Like, for being an anti-fascist you really are-

JENNIFER We don’t have time for this.

DANE [to listener]

The twins, Merryl and Sherryl, walk up behind her. Jennifer looks anxious. She looks down at her watch and then scans the crowd. Luke looks at all of us with a wrinkled expression.

LUKE 

What are you guys doing?

DANE We are doing nothing. I don’t know what she’s doing

DANE [to listener]

For once, Jennifer doesn’t look angry or mean or smug, she almost looks like a kid. She gets closer to me, looks right at me.

JENNIFER

They are keeping an animal I love in the dark alone in there, and it’s killing her. Tonight, I’m gonna go get her out of that dark. 

DANE That’s, like, literally what happens at any zoo.

JENNIFER Exactly! They’re all animal jails. 

LUKE So you wanna jailbreak Zoe? You’re a little badass. 

JENNIFER Yes, but...

DANE [to listener]

She takes a deep breath and closes her eyes, then lets it out and opens them and looks at me JENNIFER

I need your help.

DANE [to Jennifer] What are you talking about, you’re crazy. Like, you’re twelve years old, what the fuck are you planning on doing?

JENNIFER First, I’m almost thirteen. Second, growing up is a myth. And third-

DANE [to listener]

She looks back at the twins, standing on either side of her, and then back to me with a weird smile

JENNIFER We have a plan. 

DANE [to listener]

Then she sees something to her left behind me, and her eyes go wide and her face gets serious

JENNIFER Oh no. He’s early. 

DANE [to listener]

I turn around and follow her stare. On the back edge of the parking lot, far from the crowd, there’s a utility truck parked under a light pole, and a man in a bucket on a crane coming up from the truck, and the bucket is rising. It gets to the top and then stops. 

JENNIFER Okay, okay, it’s go time. Merryl, Sherryl, stay on the time markers no matter what? Got it?

TWIN 1

Got it.

TWIN 2

Uh, okay.

DANE [to JENNIFER]

What is going on?

JENNIFER No more time.

DANE [to listener]

She looks at me and Luke.

JENNIFER

You in or out?

DANE I don’t… I don’t even know what you’re talking about, like in what? 

DANE [to listener]

Her face looks strange.

JENNIFER Please.

DANE [to Jennifer]

Please what?!

DANE [to listener]

The power goes out, the lights on the stage and everything. The crowd stops singing and everyone starts shuffling and murmuring, slowly starting to panic. People start yelling for their kids. The only light is from the billboard for the exhibit way at the other end of the parking lot. Luke steps forward and looks at Jennifer. 

LUKE We’re in. 

DANE [to listener]

I look at Luke. he won’t even look back at me.

JENNIFER Great. Follow us. 

DANE [to listener]

She takes off through the crowd, the twins just behind her. I keep looking at Luke, but he just takes off after them. 

[SILENCE]

Jennifer, the twins, and Luke are all standing in front of a hole dug under the fence in front of the zoo. Right as I walk up, Jennifer kneels down and starts to go under the fence. I look around, but nobody sees her, everyone's just scrambling in the dark and paying no attention. The power going out was a classic diversion. Did she plan all this? Like, what organization are they a part of, the CIA for kids? Jennifer goes through the hole, then the twins, and then Luke. [sighs] I look around one more time. Fuck. [sighs] I follow them through. [panting] I get up and brush myself off, and then I go over to where they’re at, in the shadows against the souvenir stands and ticket booths. 

[DREAMBOY SONG PLAYS IN BACKGROUND]

DANE [to group]

Guys! Am I the only one worried about getting caught? Like, what about the security guards? Or Kritch, Sheila.

JENNIFER Kritch is watching the livestream of the rally in his office, I bet you fifty bucks, and the security guards follow the same routine every single night. Three guards, three booths, they rotate between the three booths every thirty minutes.

DANE [to listener]

She looks down at her watch. 

JENNIFER We have another twenty-five minutes before the next rotation.

DANE [to Jennifer] What about Sheila? Like, she’s the scariest one.

DANE [to listener]

Jennifer considers the question. 

JENNIFER

She is sort of a wild card. But it’s a risk we will have to take. The good news is, she’s not exactly good at being covert. Everybody just look out for a wheezy, cussing thing with a lightsaber flashlight.

DANE [to Jennifer]

Look, this isn’t just about getting banned from the zoo or me getting fired, like we could all get arrested. On serious charges! Which is a big deal if you’re not a little kid. 

DANE [to listener]

Luke still isn’t looking at me. 

LUKE

It’s weird they leave the music on all night. 

TWIN 

It’s for the animals. 

JENNIFER

Okay, let’s go. 

DANE [to listener]

Jennifer runs off into the shadows, weaving between food stands, pausing whenever she can, looking at her watch. God, it’s like she was made for this. Her legs flick in and out of the dim light, and the twins are in lock step right behind her, and Luke is right behind them, his legs almost as quick, and I'm following with legs… legs of a person that doesn’t wanna get arrested. 

[CICADA NOISES]

DANE [to listener]

[sighs] The twins are whispering things to us like little tour guides

TWIN 1 Over there’s the rides.

TWIN 2

And the Candy Clown

LUKE

[sighs] I used to hate the Candy Clown. 

JENNIFER

Come on!

DANE [to listener] Jennifer’s moving like a little Navy SEAL, doing that thing where she points at her eyes then points ahead. 

TWIN 1

There’s the swan. 

DANE [to listener]

The other twin points to a single white swan next to the pond. It looks blue in the night, its head is hidden in its wings. I stop. There’s an information kiosk in front of us, but there’s a movement inside. 

DANE [to group]

Guys, wait. There’s someone inside that booth.

DANE [to listener]

The twins both look back and smile.

TWIN 1 Lost and found.

TWIN 2

All the phones. 

DANE [to twins] Oh, jesus. Okay. 

DANE [to listener]

I look in the window as we pass it. There’s a cardboard box full of phones. A lot of them are dead, but some are flickering with messages. “Where are you?” “Are you mad at me?” “Hey.” 

JENNIFER Come on!

DANE [to listener]

We round another food stand, walk along this low wall for a few seconds, and then I see it. 

TWIN

The animal gate.

DANE [to listener]

There’s this tall, decorative iron gate set into a high stone wall that separates the animal exhibits from the rides and food and stuff. It’s this overwhelming, intricate scene of animals all sculpted with wrought iron, their bodies all twisting around each other and their faces all looking up. It’s like a gothic mural but with metal animals, but I’ve never actually really looked at it cause it’s swung open when the zoo is open. Now that I see it, it’s really beautiful. Luke slowly walks forward and looks up at the gate.

LUKE Oh my god. I remember when I was a kid, getting here early enough to see them open the animal gate was like the most magical thing, and then once we got inside my mom and I would always do the same exact thing every time: chocolate ice cream cone with a hard dipped shell and then visit Zoe. I remember her being almost close enough to touch, it’s like so weird to think that-

[JENNIFER GRUNTING]

DANE [to listener]

I look over off to the side of the gate. Jennifer’s trying to unlatch the huge metal bar attached to the stone wall. 

[JENNIFER GRUNTING LOUDER]

DANE [to Jennifer]

Mmm, need help? DANE [to listener]

Then the latch comes loose and the gate swings free with a loud deep groan.

[GATE CREAKING, JENNIFER PANTING]

DANE [to group]

Wow, lotta good that does keeping people out.

DANE [to listener] Jennifer steps back onto the path and brushes her clothes off, a little out of breath.

JENNIFER

It’s not meant to keep us out, it’s meant to keep them in. 

DANE [to listener]

Then she walks through the gate; the twins follow. Luke goes through behind them but stops when he sees I'm not following. He turns around and looks at me, for the first time since the parking lot. 

LUKE You coming?

DANE

[sighs] I don’t know. What if I say no?

DANE [to listener]

He walks up to me. His face is really soft and sweet, and he doesn’t look mad at all, like does he not know he didn’t text me all day long and like left me hanging? Like, what the fuck is he thinking?

LUKE

Are you really gonna say no?

DANE [to listener]

He reaches out and grabs my hand. My body twitches like an electromagnet.

[TWINKLY MUSIC]

DANE [to listener]

The animal section of the zoo is dark except for a few random bluish-white lights that make everything look dead and icy. Luke is still holding my hand. 

LUKE These lights are weird. Also, isn’t the power out? Like- 

JENNIFER Those are emergency lights. Backup generator, only essential systems.

DANE [to listener] She keeps her eyes ahead as she talks. And all three of them, the not girl scouts, are walking in front of me and Luke at that specific speed of children that want you to know that they know where they’re going and that they’re not afraid. And Jennifer starts whispering things too and pointing. It’s like all three of them have the whole history of this place memorized, but I can’t quite pay attention because all I can think about is Luke’s hand. 

JENNIFER

That’s the creepy-crawlies building. My dad says that it’s just an old shed they like infested with bugs, and it’s a crime that they make people pay to see it. TWIN

That’s the parrot William something. He’s old. He talks but he just says numbers.

JENNIFER

There’s the lion and tigers and bears exhibit. A lion, a tiger, and bear that used to be movie animals. The tiger’s been dead for years, though.

TWIN 

So now it’s just a lion and a bear. 

DANE [to listener]

I’m trying not to look at Luke, but there’s this feeling between our arms. It’s like a buzzing. 

TWIN There’s the new exhibit. They’ve been digging holes over there for months now.

DANE [to listener]

There’s a low wooden barricade in front of the new exhibit with a sign that says “coming soon” on it and another sign that’s half ripped down that says “Forgotten Sea”. The buzzing feeling surges. We both yank our hands away. 

TWIN That’s a bathroom. 

DANE [to listener]

I hear a tarp snapping in the wind somewhere over in the dark of the new exhibit. Something in my body turns over. Then I hear music. Opera. 

[OPERA PLAYING FAINTLY]

JENNIFER That’s Madam Beauregard’s radio. She has to listen to music when she sleeps or she has nightmares. She used to be a NASA flight test chimp, and she went to space once, but she came back crazy. Then she lived in the swampy part of Florida where some man made her do this sideshow act on the side of the road.

TWIN

Made her wear a nightgown and read a paper and drink coffee

JENNIFER Yeah, but he actually gave her real coffee, so she got addicted. Now she has to have coffee right when she wakes up or she goes insane. 

LUKE Wow. How did I not know any of this stuff? 

DANE [to listener]

We come around a curve where the main path sort of narrows and then ends at this long iron fence. Just darkness beyond. Jennifer walks up to the fence and stops. 

JENNIFER Zoe’s exhibit. Or, used to be. 

DANE [to Jennifer]

I mean they still let her outside a little bit, way far back there so people at least can still see her.

DANE [to listener]

Jennifer looks at me with a pathetic look. Then she hops up and starts to climb the fence.

DANE [to Jennifer]

What the fuck are you doing?

DANE [to listener] In no time she’s over and standing in the artificial savannah, looking back at us. 

JENNIFER Come on.

DANE [to listener]

The twins go over. Then Luke. I'm starting to sense a pattern here, so I put my foot on the fence, but it immediately slips, and I hit my knee hard, and I fall a little bit, and I do that thing where it hurts so bad that you just hold it and rock back and forth while everyone waits. [grunts, breathes deeply, sighs] I try again. I really don’t know if I can do this. Jennifer’s trying to coach me, but it’s just annoying. 

JENNIFER

Ughh, just put your foot on the wall.

DANE [to Jennifer]

Yeah. JENNIFER Put your other foot on the fence. Now grab the- No no no.

DANE [to Jennifer[

What?

JENNIFER

Hold on with both hands and kind of swing your hip, yeah. Swing your hips. Okay, no, like that but do it better.

DANE [to Jennifer]

I’m trying.

JENNIFER

Just swing your hips, yeah, now pull- pull yourself, now pull yourself, okay.

[DANE GRUNTING]

JENNIFER

Okay, there it is.

DANE

Goddamn.

DANE [to listener]

I finally make it over and land with a grunt in the dirt. [groans]

TWIN 

This is the spot where the Harris boy climbed in.

DANE [to listener]

The twin is looking right at me, then she points to a spot on the ground by the wall.

TWIN 

And that’s where he died.

DANE

Whoa. 

DANE [to listener]

I look at the spot. I think about the picture I saw on those signs in the parking lot.

JENNIFER

He wouldn’t have died if it weren’t for toxic masculine peer pressure. 

DANE

What? TWIN

It’s a tradition for high school boys to break in here at night and touch Zoe. 

DANE

But he was like eleven.

JENNIFER

Exactly. He heard about his older brothers doing it and wanted to be cool like them. Stupid boy stuff. 

DANE Exactly. Stupid. And here we are doing the exact same thing, like-

JENNIFER Trust me, I have a plan. 

DANE [to listener]

I look down at the spot on the ground again. I think I can still see blood stains, but it’s so dark I can't be sure.

JENNIFER

Now, let's go!

DANE [to listener]

We tip-toe through Zoe’s artificial environment. It’s made to resemble a rocky outcrop in an African savannah, so what look like rocks from the front are actually just plastic and hollow in the back. But, I mean, I guess this savannah wasn’t made for Zoe anyway. 

JENNIFER

[breathes deeply] Okay. This is it. Where’s your keys?

DANE [to listener]

There’s a door. It’s made to look like stone. 

DANE [to Jennifer]

That’s the help you needed? My keys? I told you I only have keys to the ride building and the broom closet, that’s it, those two. So looks like we’re all just gonna go home, good plan. 

LUKE

Wait, we’re not actually gonna go inside-inside are we?

DANE 

No we’re not, not without keys. 

DANE [to listener]

Jennifer walks up and looks at me and slams her brow down over her eyes.

JENNIFER

Listen: come in or not, I don’t care, but I’ve been planning tonight for months, and all I need is to get through that door, and then you can go. After that door is open, I don't care where you go. 

DANE [to Jennifer]

Yeah right, and let you just get killed by a murderous zebra? They’d put me in jail for letting you in, stupid. 

JENNIFER

I told you already, Zoe died months ago. Give me the keys and I'll show you. 

LUKE Wait, what?

DANE

These keys? 

DANE [to listener]

I take my keys from my pocket, and I throw them at her feet. 

DANE [to Jennifer]

Go ahead, try them. I told you they don’t fucking go to these doors, so have at it.

DANE [to listener]

Jennifer grabs the keys from the ground, walks over to the door, and sticks them in. The broom closet one immediately works. The door swings open. She yanks my keys from the knob and throws them back at my feet. Then she snears at me and disappears into the dark. The twins follow. [sighs] I don’t understand. Like… I don’t understand. 

LUKE

Zoe’s dead?

DANE [to listener] 

I’m still looking at the dark of the doorway where Jennifer and the twins disappeared. Almost talking to myself. 

DANE [to Luke]

I... who knows? I don’t know. She could be, I guess.

LUKE

Zoe’s dead.

DANE [to listener] I hear something edging in Luke’s voice. I look over at him. He’s looking down. His eyes are distant. 

DANE Well, we don’t know that yet.

DANE

He kneels down quickly and starts to pick up pieces of gravel just to have something to do with his hands, it looks like. The whole time, he’s looking off in the distance. I walk up to him slowly and kneel down beside him. His lip is trembling. He can’t look at me. I wait a few seconds, unsure of what to do, and then I reach out and put my hand on his shoulder.

DANE [to Luke]

Hey…

DANE [to listener]

But as soon as I touch him, he just start sobbing like he can’t hold it back anymore 

[LUKE SOBBING]

DANE

And he falls into me, and he wraps his arms around my torso and cries onto my neck. I feel the wetness on my skin. It feels weirdly good that he’s crying on me, and then I feel weird that it feels good. 

DANE [to Luke]

Hey buddy, you’re okay, you’re okay.

[LUKE BREATHING DEEPLY]

DANE [to listener]

After a bit, his rhythm slowly evens out, and his fingers unclench from my shirt in the back, and he buries his face in my neck and just breathes. I breathe too. Our breathing is lining up. 

[DANE AND LUKE BREATHE]

DANE

We both pull away, and get to our feet. We don’t really look at each other. Instead, our eyes fall on the open doorway. 

LUKE

We have to go in there. We have to make sure they don’t get hurt.

DANE 

[groans]

LUKE [sighs] Yeah, I know.

DANE 

The darkness in the doorway seems to be looking back at us like a giant eye socket. I don’t wanna go in there. But I know whatever’s going on with this zoo and this zebra is weird. I mean, everything about this place is weird, but I just feel like the answer’s... the answer’s through that door. 

[DISTANT SCREAM]

[DREAMBOY THEME PLAYS]

ELLIE HAYMEN

Dreamboy is co-created by Dane Terry and Ellie Haymen. Developed and directed by Ellie Haymen. Written, composed, and performed by Dane Terry, featuring Michael Cavadias, Dito Van Reigersberg, Renata Friedman, Morgan Meadows, Avery Draut, Gianna Masi, Alice Tolan-Mee, Somerset Thompson, and Jake Sellers Sound Designed, Engineered, Mixed and Mastered by Chris Weingarten at Bananappeal Studio. Edited by Alexander Charles Adams. Creative Producer and Assistant Director: Ashlin Hatch. Associate producer: Adam Cecil. Executive Producer: Christy Gressman. A very special thanks to Night Vale Presents. You can find us on Twitter and Instagram @dreamboypodcast. For more info and for merch check out dreamboypodcast.com.