#there's a high-pitched noise it's bothering everyone in the house and it reminds me of trains

[keeps-ache]

everywhere i've ever lived there's been a train nearby

[ohpretty-baby]

hesitation

⇥ pairing: jungkook x reader ; established relationship

⇥ genre: angst, fluff, jungkook’s kind of a lost puppy in this one lmao

⇥ synopsis: “can i kiss you?” ; you storm out of the house in the middle of an argument and jungkook doesn’t know what to do when you finally come back to him.

⇥ warnings: cursing

⇥ word count: 3.2k

a/n: for the anon who asked for an angsty fluff with kook! thanks so much for requesting <3 hope you enjoy! (if you don’t enjoy, feel free to request again!)

i’m slowly but surely getting through my requests :) thank you for being patient. things have been kind of stressful as exams for me are coming up soon.

hope everyone is being safe! i love you <3

It’s 4 AM, and Jungkook can’t be bothered to even try to get some rest. His eyes are bloodshot, vision blurry due to his swollen eyelids. The cold night air from the open window hits his bare skin, making him shiver. Jungkook covers himself in the covers, gaze stuck on your side of the bed.

It’s empty, the wrinkles on the mattress insufficient to make Jungkook satisfied. Instead he’s restless, tears staining his cheeks and pooling onto his pillow without him even knowing. He sniffles, the sound reverberating around the room, proving how quiet it had been without you. Jungkook’s lip quivers before he’s breaking down again, body trembling.

He wishes nothing more than for you to return. For you to come back into his arms and never leave.

It had been two weeks since your argument, when you and Jungkook had been yelling to each other so much to the point that you grabbed your bags and left. He couldn’t even remember what the two of you were fighting about. With plates and glasses shattered all around that day, Jungkook found himself sitting on the tile floor, crawled up in a ball and dazed as he couldn’t exactly process what happened. There were no texts, no calls, nothing at all from you. It was almost as if you had just disappeared from his life.

Jungkook knows that he deserved it. He’s absolutely heartbroken at the fact that he had been so uncooperative and stubborn that he made you feel like you couldn’t even talk to him. He knows that this is all his fault, that if he had just listened to your concerns and talked it through with you, none of this would have happened. He knows that if he had been understanding and patient, you would be lying next to him tonight, your soft body pressed up against him. He would be able to hear your soft breaths as you slept, would be able to see how peaceful you were next to him.

In the deafening silence of the room, Jungkook yearns to apologize to you. He imagines what it would be like to have you in his arms again, to drown in your sweet scent and feel your lips on his once more. The ache in his body has slowly dulled each passing day but was still a constant reminder of his need for your presence. Jungkook finds himself always reaching out for something, but never getting anything in return. He grasps at air and empty space unintentionally, the new action becoming a habit.

He knows that it’s you he’s looking for, but you’re nowhere to be seen.

Jungkook’s deep in a trance and he figures that if he thinks about it hard enough, he can at least pretend to feel your presence around him. He imagines you giving him soothing, butterfly kisses, the thought of your lips on his skin making him feel light with joy yet heavy with heartbreak at the same time. As much as he’d like to cry, his eyes feel strained and the image of you soothing him enough to make him sleepy.

That’s when he hears the faintest sound of a door creak open.

The first thought that registers in his tired, slow brain is that someone broke in and they were going to steal something from him.

So Jungkook ever so quietly grabs his cell phone in and is about to call the police when he shakes his head instead and shoves it in his pocket. It was so late at night, his sleep-deprived brain tells him that if he called the police and the burglar was right downstairs, it would be useless. He reasons that by the time the police come, he would either be dead or the thief would have already gotten away.

In conclusion, self defense is the best option at 4 AM.

The male slowly stands up from the bed, taking a few stretches before going into action. He examines the bedroom hastily in an attempt to find a weapon. However, his attempts are futile until his vision lands on a hardcover book resting on your nightstand. Jungkook grabs it, knocking lightly to see how solid the book was. He nods in satisfaction, clutching it tightly in his hands.

He’s not quite sure how he can use the book, but he hopes that from its wooden cover and hefty weight, it could possibly be enough to knock someone out.

Tiptoeing out of the bedroom, Jungkook stealthily makes his way down to the living room, where he presumes the thief is. He makes sure to take the lightest steps, as he knows how loud the stairs could be, even with just the tiniest bit of pressure.

In fact, you had a terrible habit of always waking Jungkook up whenever you went downstairs to make yourself a cup of tea in the middle of the night. It made him laugh when you would try to be as quiet as possible but both him and you knew that you would just end up making the stairs creak and groan under your slippers.

After all, you had never really been that much of a light walker.

Pain shoots through his chest as he remembers the sound of you walking downstairs. He shakes it off, lightly slapping himself and feeling stupid for being sad over something as simple as a staircase. Returning his attention to the grave situation at hand, Jungkook reaches the bottom of the stairs, quickly moving to hide behind a thick plant. He’s aware that the criminal can probably see him, but he determines that he’d knock the person out before anyone could spot his hiding place.

Brown eyes scanning the living room, Jungkook sees that no one else was there except for him. Jungkook frowns, the furrow in his brows delving deeper and deeper in his skin.

Then, he hears a soft click from the stove and a sharp, high-pitched sound of water hissing from the kitchen. His ears perk up, more alert now than ever.

He thinks it’s weird for someone to break in just to boil water, but nevertheless, he treads on. He crouches low as he walks, raising the book above his head in order to hit the culprit from behind. His steps are slow, soundless, his heart beating rapidly as adrenaline pulses violently through his veins. He can hear his heart drumming in his ears, blocking out any noise in the house.

But Jungkook keeps his calm, clenching his jaw in anticipation. as he gets ready to attack.

He makes a mental note to praise himself for being so cool at moment like this. Those action movies you loved so much had taught him well. Time slows down for a bit as Jungkook gets distracted by the thought of you. He wonders what you would think of him if you were here, what you’d say when he finally catches the culprit. He thinks you’d probably tease him for using your book as a weapon and you’d scold him for not calling the police right away.

You’d probably say something on the lines of:

“Oh my goodness, Kook, are you stupid?”

He wishes you could be here to say that. His eyelids shut as he hears your voice in his ears.

Realizing once again that his head is in the clouds, Jungkook takes a few moments to steady himself and his thoughts. He inhales deeply, trying to be as levelheaded as possible before carrying out his somewhat improvised plan of a sneak attack.

When he finally enters the kitchen, Jungkook expects himself to rush up behind the intruder and knock him out cold. Maybe throw a few punches here and there if he really wanted to feel like a total badass.

Instead, he feels the book slip from out of his hands and he hears it thud loudly on the ground. The sound doesn’t seem to register with him.

“Ah!”

Jungkook hears you yelp, your body jolting up in response to the sound.

His mouth is agape, jaw fixed and permanently locked in that position as he feels like his eyes are about to fall out of his skull. His throat feels as dry as a desert and his heart beats rapidly against his chest, another greater adrenaline rush quickly coming. His body is stuck frozen in his place, not acknowledging the book that had just fallen on the ground.

He cannot believe the sight before him. He cannot believe the fact that you’re standing in front of the stove, arms crossed as you wait for your water to reach your favorite temperature.

For some reason, he could not fathom the idea of you coming back to him and being this close to him.

While your presence is all he can think about, right now, at this moment, you feel foreign to him. It was almost as if you were a hologram, an illusion that he could see but couldn’t actually touch.

“Jungkook?” Although quiet, your voice rings loudly in his ears, bringing him back to earth, “Are you okay?”

You watch him nervously, waiting for him to finally make a response.

But Jungkook can’t muster the strength or the courage to say anything. Instead he just continues to stare at you, eyes tracing the familiar pattern of your facial features that he had missed so much. He takes in the soft puff of your cheeks, wanting nothing more than to hold your face in his hands. The soft moonlight shines on you, displaying the puff of your eyes and the small shiny streaks from dried tears on your skin.

The two of you soak in each other’s presence, taking in how rough the other looked.

He notices how drained you look, how the bags under your eyes had sagged significantly deeper and gotten a few shades darker. He guesses that you can see the red blotches scattered all over his face. The kitchen is noiseless, save for the shallow breaths from both of your lips. Jungkook’s hair is tousled and pulled in every direction, resembling a disheveled bird’s nest. You’re clad in some leggings and his hoodie, while Jungkook has a loose t-shirt on and sweatpants, both of your figures unkempt.

It takes a while before one of you speaks.

“I’m making tea,” Your voice is scratchy, hesitant, “You want some?”

Jungkook nods, finally registering that you were truly in front of him. He then realizes that he had dropped your book, and he promptly bends down to pick it up. Your back is turned to him as you turn of the stove, carefully taking the teapot off the stove. While the water cools down, Jungkook is quick on his feet to grab two mugs and two bags of green tea.

“Oh, thank you,” Your words are painted with genuine surprise when you turn around to see what Jungkook had prepared. You watch, with a small smile on your face, the water turn from clear to green as you pour it in. Jungkook’s gaze is still pinpointed on you and he’s speechless.

He’s sure that you feel extremely awkward, maybe even uncomfortable, because he does as well.

But that really doesn’t matter to him at the moment when he gets to stare at you like this again.

Your eyes meet his, and nothing but pure love and admiration looks back at you, Jungkook’s eyes twinkling when your cheeks turn red. He’s leaning against the counter, head resting on his hand as he continues to say silent, gaze shifting to your mouth as he sees you bite your bottom lip out of habit.

“What’s up with the book?” You attempt to crack a joke in order to lighten the thick air, “Never took you for an Aristotle kind of guy.”

“Aris... what?” Jungkook looks at the book resting in front of him on the counter. He glares at the title, lips absently forming in obscure shapes as he attempts to pronounce the words. His bottom lip juts out as he couldn’t even comprehend how the title is said.

“Nicomachaen Ethics,” You step in, chuckling.

Jungkook’s mouth forms an “o” shape, him now focused on the cover of the book. He can’t seem to decipher what the cover is, wondering who the man drawn on the hardwood was.

“Oh, right,” He mumbles, more to himself rather than to you, realizing that he still hadn’t answered your question, “I thought you were a thief and I was gonna knock you out with this.”

His words are slurred and his voice is thick with fatigue. You giggle as you see his eyelids drooping down slightly as he speaks languidly, and you can’t help but inwardly gush, remembering exactly how cute he was when he was sleepy. He still hasn’t taken a sip of the tea, deciding to just let the steam hit his face.

You focus on the mug in your hands, taking a deep sigh once you finally drink the tea. The hot beverage slides down your throat, warming your body. You hum lightly, lips still pressed against the mug. It’s peaceful in the kitchen, and Jungkook can’t help but feel overjoyed for things to feel somewhat normal.

That’s when dread seeps into his brain.

“Are you leaving me?” His voice trembles, “You’re not leaving me... Are you?”

His doe eyes interlock with yours once more, and instead of admiration, there’s nothing but fear present in him. You can see his eyes shine more and more as the seconds pass by, indicating that they’re welling up with tears. Your expression softens, giving him a sad look.

“Of course not, Kook,” You respond, placing the mug on the counter and fidgeting with it in your hands. Jungkook visibly lets out a sigh of relief and some of the tension knotted in his shoulders releases.

The two of you are both reminded of the fight, your expressions darkening slightly.

“Listen,” Your hand travels to your sleeves, picking at pieces of lint while you speak, “That night... I don’t know why I left you, and I’m-“

Your words are cut off when you feel Jungkook grab your hand. They’re coarse against yours, and he massages your skin with his thumb. You look up to see tears streaming down his face.

“Y/N...” He starts, hiccuping as he sobs, “I’m so sorry for everything.”

You open your mouth to speak, but Jungkook beats you to it.

“This was all my fucking fault,” His head hangs low, and he places his lips on your knuckles, planting soft kisses, “I’m so sorry.”

“Jungkook...” You let out a shaky breath, “I forgive you. I’m sorry too.”

He shakes his head profusely.

“No, no, this was all because of me,” He faces you, voice breaking with every word, “I really fucked up, didn’t I? I made you leave.”

“Kook, no,” You forget your cup of tea and make your way on over to him, wrapping your arms around him.

Jungkook shakes against your chest, holding your waist ever so gently. He’s careful as not to squeeze you, acting as if you’re a porcelain doll. The scent of vanilla brings Jungkook back to life, and he buries himself in your embrace.

Your hand runs through his messy hair, combing through the knots in an attempt to sooth him. You rest your chin on his head, and when the familiar scent of pinewood wafts in your nose, you realize that tears had been falling down from your eyes as well. You place a kiss on his head, gasping as the tears fall onto his hair.

He notices this and immediately pulls away from your embrace to wipe the tear from your eyes, completely ignoring the ones on his own face.

“Can I...” He rubs his nose nervously, “Can I hug you?”

You nod in response, laughing at his strange question. It seems as if he didn’t notice that he had been holding you this whole time.

Jungkook stands up to pull you close to his chest, and you ball the fabric of his t-shirt in your fists. Incoherent apologies pour out of his mouth, his low voice vibrating against your body. He subtly rocks you back and forth in his arms, his strong arms making you feel secure and safe. The scent of pine is stronger now, calming down every muscle in your body and making your legs feel like jelly.

“I missed this,” You whisper, earning you a chuckle from Jungkook.

“Doll, you have no idea,” He responds but then there’s uncertainty in his words, “Can I call you that still?”

“Yes, you can.”

Usually you would have teased him by now, but it’s obvious that neither of you had enough energy to throw jabs at each other.

“I love you, so much,” He breathes out, desperate to get the words out.

“I love you too.”

The air around you is freezing, but Jungkook’s arms feel warm and welcoming. As your head is pressed against his chest, you feel his heart beating loudly, the rhythm lulling you into a state of peace. Jungkook feels the same serenity, overjoyed to have you here with him again.

Both of your tears are dried, now replaced with an abundance of love and gratitude shared between you and him.

“Y/N?”

“Yes, Jungkook?”

His cheeks are dusted a slight pink and he gives you a shy smile.

“Can I kiss you?”

Instead of responding, you stand on the tips of your toes and connect your lips with his. Electricity shoots down your spine, and your nerves are on fire. You wrap your arms around his neck, running your hands through his hair as you kiss him passionately. Jungkook quickly responds, kissing you with as much, if not, more, fervor.

His hands travel underneath your hoodie, roaming around and massaging your skin. You sigh into the kiss, feeling the familiar, soothing touch of his hands. Jungkook takes this opportunity to gently prod his tongue in your mouth. You welcome him, mingling your tongue with his. After a few seconds, he smiles into the kiss, making your chest feel light and fluttery.

Jungkook pulls away, buried under your hoodie. Your lips are puffy and tingly as you get lost in Jungkook’s eyes. Your chests raise up and down simultaneously, and he rests his forehead against yours, a bright smile plastered on his face.

He places a gentle kiss on your nose, making you giggle in delight. Some hair falls down on your face, and Jungkook raises a hand to tuck the loose strands behind your ear. His gestures are exuding in love and endearment, showing you already all the words he wants to tell you.

“You’re beautiful,” He says out of nowhere, making your face heat up on the sport. You hide in his chest in response, making him coo at you.

“My pretty little doll,” He clicks his tongue, his praise making you melt. Jungkook grabs your chin, gently asking you to look up at him. You comply, and he whistles as he takes another good look at your face. His smile spreads from ear to ear and you find yourself mirroring him, a smile forming on your face as well.

Jungkook doesn’t waste another chance to feel your lips on his again, leaning in to get rid of the space between the two of you.

“What’d I do to ever deserve you?”

[lifeofkaze]

An Art of Balance #11

Orion Amari x MC

 A/N: Okay, now this is a long one, I hope you don’t mind. I had split this up into three parts to make things shorter but I just hated the way it turned out so much. So now you just have to endure an almost 5.5 k attempt of mine to describe feelings. Oh God. Sorry in advance. If anyone is interested in what the song the Weird Sisters are playing sounds like, I image it being something like Don’t Cry from Guns ‘n’ Roses. I actually like to think they sound a lot like them.

Thanks for the heads up @kc-needs-coffee

Warning: Use of alcohol (my characters do like a good drink, don’t they)  

 Word Count: ~ 5.400 (don’t hit me please)

______________________________________________________________ 

Chapter 11: Let Me Take You Dancing

The days leading up to the concert had gotten colder still. Everything was covered in a thick layer of rime, sparkling in the light of the pale November sun. Even the Black Lake had frozen over for the first time in years. The students daring enough to go for a round of ice skating soon told hushed stories of giant tentacles pushing against the ice from beneath the water, knocking heedless students off their feet.  

Not particularly eager to get back out into the freezing cold, Lizzie and Charlie had dallied at Hagrid’s perfectly cosy hut far too long. As they were racing back towards the castle, the sun was already hanging low in the sky, their breaths forming in misty clouds in front of their faces.

They found the hallways completely deserted. Almost everyone besides those who had to stay behind at school had already gone to the village. Lizzie risked a quick glance at the giant clockwork above the castle gate while they were hurrying past it. The concert was due to start in less than an hour.

Sure enough, when she skittered into the Hufflepuff Common Room it was empty besides a handful of first years playing a game of cards. Lizzie continued towards her dormitory and found it devoid of her friends. Only the floor, covered in clothes pulled from various drawers, bore witness of the four girls having gotten ready to go out before.

Lizzie waded through the colourful assortment, picking up the odd piece of clothing belonging to her. She found what she had been looking for displayed on her bed. As always, Andre had delivered the outfit he’d made for her just in time. Lizzie ran her hand over the soft fabrics, her eyes lingering on the black heeled boots resting neatly beside the trunk in front of her bed.

She sighed as she picked the precariously high heels up for closer inspection and grimaced at the thought of squeezing into them. She had told Andre she was not used to heels that high when he had suggested wearing some to her in the first place. But apparently, Lizzie’s ability to walk without support was a worthy sacrifice to see the picture he’d had in mind come to life.

After a quick shower to get some warmth back into her body, Lizzie twisted her hair into a ponytail and got changed. She observed herself in the floor length mirror next to the entrance door. Although she severely lacked stability while doing anything more than standing, she had to admit Andre had once again outdone himself.

After she had stalwartly refused to make her appearance in a short dress in the middle of winter, he had opted for an off-white shirt made of a floaty material Lizzie wasn’t familiar with. It reminded her of silk, but it had a thicker feel to it. It fit her body in all the right places while the loose sleeves allowed her to move freely. The boat neckline ran deeper than what she would have normally worn, exposing a fair bit of her shoulders. Thankfully, it lacked any glitzy details that would have distracted from its impeccable fit. It’s simpleness complemented the black leggings made of soft faux leather that clung tightly to her legs. Combined with the boots Andre had given her, they greatly elongated her legs, making her appear much taller than she actually was.

Lizzie picked out some silver earrings and a matching necklace while contemplating the thick black cardigan still lying on her bed. Making up her mind, she dug into her drawer until she had found what she had been looking for. Holding her old Weird Sisters jacket up in triumph, she dusted it off before shrugging it on.

Andre would probably hate it, but Myron, the lead singer of the band, had given a jacket like hers to a handful of friends back in the early days of the band. If she didn’t wear it now, she wouldn’t know when.

Posing in front of the mirror, she presented herself to Mouse, who was eyeing her lazily from the bed she had made herself out of Skye’s favourite hoodie.

“How do I look?” she asked her four-legged companion.

Mouse seemed to examine her for a moment before she let go off the string she had been chewing on, opening her mouth into the widest yawn Lizzie had ever seen. She shook her head and started kneading the sweater with her outstretched claws.

“Don’t get all enthusiastic on me,” Lizzie muttered. She walked over to the cat to give her scratch behind the ears when her heel caught on one of the dresses on the floor. With a little shriek, Lizzie toppled, gripping the post of Skye’s bed for dear life.

As attractive as those boots made her feel, there was no way she would get into Hogsmeade without breaking both her legs first.

Decidedly more careful she grabbed her coat and walked out of her Common Room, her heels clicking loudly on the stone floor. Charlie, Andre and his date, a pale blond girl with a bored look on her face, were already waiting for her.

Lizzie opened her mouth to thank Andre for his effort, but before she could utter a single word, he pointed his finger at her, looking completely horrified.

“What, in the name of all that is fashionable, is this?”

Andre rushed over and tugged at her ponytail painfully. “I explicitly told you not to do that.”

With an exasperate sigh he got his wand out. He muttered “Evanesco” and the hairband holding Lizzies hair out of her face vanished, her brown curls falling down over her shoulders. He observed the result contentedly. “Now you look fabulous.”

Lizzie shot Andre a glum look. Since she had cut her hair the front bits constantly fell into her face, a sensation she had grown to hate. Out of habit, her hand went to her head to swipe it back when Andre pointed his wand at her face.

“Do not touch it,” he warned her, accentuating every word with a flick of his wand.

Lizzie glanced at Charlie for support, who hadn’t bothered changing at all. He gave her the tiniest shrug. Andre bossing her around showed just how nervous he was.

“May I change my shoes, though?” she dared to ask timidly. Moral support or not, she couldn’t fathom walking all the way to the village in those death traps. The concert would long be over by the time they arrived.

Andre was having none of it, though. “No, you may not.”

She made a face. “Why not? They hurt. Charlie is even wearing the same clothes as before,” she complained.

“Because Charlie is basically a troll.”

Despite herself and her increasingly numb toes, Lizzie had to giggle at this swipe at her friend.

“And besides, you are friends with Skye Parkin; you should be used to pain.”

Both Charlie and Lizzie were laughing at this point, while Andre’s date resorted to smiling politely, not sure what exactly was going on.

As the four of them finally set off, Lizzie linked arms with Charlie for support, letting Andre and Claire get ahead of them. When they were out of earshot, she quickly pointed her wand at her feet. Her heels vanished, turning her boots into infinitely more comfortable flats. She winced as the blood came rushing back into her toes.

Charlie shot her a lopsided grin. “I wondered how long you would last in those.”

He picked up his pace now that Lizzie was able to keep up with him. They would need to hurry to get to The Three Broomsticks in time.

“Come on, they won’t wait for us and I fancy something to drink. We’re going to be just in time to be fashionably late.”

 *

Orion couldn’t remember when he had last felt so out of focus.

The main room of The Three Broomsticks was packed to the brim with people laughing, chatting or swaying to the sound of the music. The constant buzz of noise and the little amount of space unnerved him. His eyes were restlessly sweeping over the crowd while he repeatedly loosened and tightened his grip on the glass in his hands.

He was no stranger to social gatherings of course. Lizzie was an avid supporter of the Hufflepuff pre- and post-match parties; after she had convinced Skye to attend several times, it hadn’t taken long before the rest of the team had followed suit. While Orion preferred to focus on his inner balance before a match, he had come to enjoy socialising with the people of his House after returning from the pitch.

But this was something else. The parties in their Common Room consisted mainly of Hufflepuffs and the odd student from another House who had snuck in. Today, it seemed like almost the entire school had crammed themselves into the tiny pub.

Orion shifted against the wall he was leaning against. No, he really couldn’t say he was enjoying himself. He was thoroughly regretting giving in to Skye’s prodding and coming here in the first place.

Skye herself was standing a bit to the side with Penny, her eyes fixed on the Ravenclaws sat at a table a few feet to their right.

Judging from the angry waving of Skye’s hands, Orion guessed she was complaining about Rath, who looked about as comfortable as he was, breathing the same air as her. He was not intent on joining their conversation. His energy was unsettled enough without the negativity Skye was emitting.

Next to him, McNully was observing the same table out of the corner of his eyes. Ever since the girls had sat down, his friend just wouldn’t quit talking.

His ceaseless chattering was accentuated by wide, dramatic gestures. He was obviously trying to catch the attention of the table’s occupants. Orion wished he would just pluck up the courage to get over there and start a conversation with someone who would actually listen to him. He, for one, surely wasn’t.

Orion felt the trace of a headache building inside his throbbing temples. He absolutely hadn’t imagined coming here to be as exasperating.

The other girls in their company weren’t exactly inviting to converse with either. Tonks had left them to find her friend Tulip as soon as they had arrived; he could spot the two of them hanging about the bar, surreptitiously glancing at the huge barrel with butterbeer behind the counter. Orion made a mental note to not drink anything from it anymore.

Rowan just sat quietly at their own table, her drink clutched in her hands, shooting him a timid glance now and again. Orion probably should have made an effort to go and talk to her to ease her awkwardness, but he wasn’t in the mood for hollow chatter. How could he lift someone’s anxiousness while fighting the same sentiments himself?

It was a shame Lizzie wasn’t here yet. He found himself watching the entrance from time to time, looking forward to her finally showing up. Contrary to most of the group gathered around him, he felt like she was the only one he could actually have an agreeable conversation with. Usually, McNully would have been the exception, but his nervous jabbering was increasingly grinding on Orion’s nerves.

He decided to end his torment prematurely; bending down towards his friend, who was just elaborating on the different noise levels of a rock concert and a professional Quidditch match, Orion inclined his head towards the Ravenclaws whose attention McNully was so desperately trying to catch.

“It seems you have quite the admirer,” he shouted into McNully’s ear with a smirk. He was nodding into the direction of a certain redhead, who had been looking towards them way too often for it to be coincidental.

Much to his amusement, McNully paled visibly. His hand went to his head, unconsciously checking his hair. He had made sure it was meticulously styled for the occasion. “Are you sure?”

Orion hummed in confirmation. “Absolutely. She has been looking at you for some time now. Why don’t you get over and say hello?”

McNully nestled with his tie. “I don’t know, mate. According to my statistics- “

“Forget the statistics; they are only numbers representing the odds. And sometimes, the universe is set to defy chance,” he interrupted him.

Without giving his friend a chance to back out, he raised his glass towards the girls at the table, drawing their attention. Smiling broadly, the girl in question raised her own drink in response. She exchanged some words with her friends, before leaving her table and heading over to them.

Orion had left McNully had little choice but to play along. He clapped him on the back as his now silenced friend gulped visibly, once again checking his hair. Leaving them to their own, he pushed through the crowd towards the bar. Although he had to move deeper into the mass of people, he was thankful for a moment to himself.      

He had just settled at a corner of the counter, when he spotted Lizzie sitting at a table at the far end of the room. Apparently, she and her friends had arrived while he had been busy getting McNully set up.

She was deeply engaged in conversation with Charlie Weasley and his brother Bill. To his surprise, she had decided to wear her hair open for a change. Her brown curls draped around her slender shoulders, contrasting nicely with the white shirt she was wearing. As if unfamiliar with the feel of her hair loose around her face, she raised her hand to her head ever so often, combing through it with her fingers.

Orion watched lost in thought as Lizzie threw her head back in laughter at some joke Charlie had probably made. He felt his mood sinking again. So much for a chance at a decent conversation.

As if sensing someone looking at her, Lizzie turned her head, her eyes scanning the room and meeting his after a moment. A radiant smile spread on her face as she discovered him at the bar all by himself. She exchanged a few quick words with the Weasley brothers, then grabbed her drink and left her friends to themselves.

Orion’s spirits immediately lifted, he felt his mouth curve into a smile as he saw her approaching. She was weaving through the dense mass of students gracefully, but just as she was about to pass the last row of people in front of the bar, she suddenly got caught on someone’s foot, stumbling the rest of the way.

Orion quickly reached out to catch her from falling, but the impact send her tumbling into him instead.

“Oh God, I’m so sorry!” Lizzie straightened herself up, her face burning red.

“Don’t worry, you know I’m good at catching things,” Orion heard himself answer. He cringed inwardly at the horrendous joke he’d just made. What on Earth had that been about?

Luckily, Lizzie didn’t seem to have noticed. She looked around the room for other familiar faces. “This place is packed! I’d have never thought so many people would come. Where are the others?”

Before he could reply though, Penny came rushing towards them out of nowhere, virtually jumping on Lizzie’s back in excitement.

“Lizzie, there you are! What took you so long?!” she shouted to be heard over the music.

The band was playing a song with a considerably picked up pace by now. “Come on, let’s get dancing!”

Lizzie had just enough time to give him an apologetic shrug before the blond girl whisked her away and onto the dancefloor.

 *

By the time the next three songs were over, Lizzie was breathless from jumping around with Penny and singing along to the music at the top of their lungs.

“Now it is time for your feet to catch a break, my friends,” Myron Wagtail, lead singer of the Weird Sisters, breathed into his microphone with his raspy voice. “This next song is for our sweethearts.”

As the dancefloor emptied of enthusiastic dancers and couples began to fill their places, Penny and Lizzie started making their way back to the bar. Lizzie’s throat was sore from singing, begging for a sip of water.

When they had almost reached Orion, Lizzie caught sight of someone making their way towards them. With a sinking feeling in her stomach, she realised it was Everett. He was smiling confidently, his intense gaze fixed on her.

Her mind racing, Lizzie set her eyes onto Orion. Without thinking on it any further, she stepped forward and grabbed his arm, dragging off him off his stool and back to the dancefloor.

She saw him raising his eyebrows at her in confusion. “What exactly are you doing?”

“Shamelessly using my knight in shining armour a second time, I’d say.”

Upon seeing her already taken, Everett was backing up again, chagrin written all over his face.

It was only now that she got aware of Orion still standing in front of her, both of them now surrounded by couples swaying to the sound of the music. Lizzie felt the heat rising to her face; she clearly hadn’t thought as far ahead.

To her surprise, however, Orion extended his arm, offering her his hand. Confused, she took it and he pulled her closer to him, his other hand coming to rest on her waist.

“If you dragged me here for whatever reason, we could as well go with the flow,” he smirked. Lizzie blushed even further, unable to think of a witty remark. She decided to just let it go and do as Orion had suggested. Concentrate on the song; go with the flow. She felt herself relax.

Orion was an excellent dancer, she’d have to give him that. He was leading her through the music confidently, making sure they weren’t colliding with other couples strewn across the dancefloor. Even now, the crowd was much thicker than she had anticipated.

Noticing the confused sideway glances some of their peers shot them, she chuckled. She stepped closer to Orion, standing on her tiptoes so she could shout into his ear over the music. “Seems like we’re attracting quite the attention,” she laughed lightly.

He only smirked as he slowly spun her around. Her fingertips tingled as their hands reconnected and despite herself, she felt her smile grow even wider. She tried to relax her already hurting cheeks, but she was simply enjoying herself too much.

Trying to distract herself from the tension she felt surging through her body from where Orion’s hand rested on her waist, Lizzie tossed her head in a futile attempt to get her unruly hair out of her face. Without giving it another thought, Orion lifted his hand, carefully tucking away the rogue strand that had been bugging her. The back of his hand accidentally brushed her cheek and Lizzie instinctively leaned into his touch, her heartbeat picking up pace. The thought of resting her head on his chest crossed her mind for a split second. Bewilderment mixed into the buzz she felt coursing through her veins. What was wrong with her?

“I’m surprised you chose to wear your hair like that,” Orion commented absentmindedly, apparently unaware of the indefinable mix of emotions he had just inflicted on her. “I thought you hated having it in your face.”

Eager to set her mind to something else, she concentrated on her answer. “It wasn’t exactly my choice. Andre forced this mess on me, and I’m rather annoyed by it.”

Orion furrowed his brow. “You should not let others dictate your appearance, especially if you don’t feel like yourself.” He seemed to hesitate for a moment, before the corner of his mouth quirked up into a small smile, something sparking at the back of his dark eyes. “But for what it’s worth, I think you look beautiful.”

Lizzie felt her cheeks blush dark red, while her heart suddenly seemed to skip several beats. Totally dumbfounded by his unexpected compliment, her mind raced for something even remotely clever to answer without looking like he had caught her unaware. Which he completely had. Her throat went even drier than before, while she still struggled for an answer.

She was spared further embarrassment, by Myron breathing a dreamy “Thank you” up on stage before the music picked up again. Still smiling, Orion let go off her hand as the rest of the crowd came flooding back on the dancefloor.

Suddenly surrounded by people again, Lizzie’s attention was thankfully diverted from the awkwardness of the situation. Dark eyes sparkling with amusement, Orion gave her a small wink before retreating back to his seat at the bar.

 *

Although Lizzie tried her best to immerse herself in the pounding rhythm of the music, there was no way she could concentrate anymore. Tapping Penny on the shoulder, she screamed into her ear that she needed to get a breather. Her friend immediately made to accompany her, but Lizzie signalled her to stay. She wanted a moment to herself.

She desperately needed to sort her racing thoughts. Penny was usually a formidable person to ask for advice, but Lizzie preferred to get her mind in order on her own.

As soon as Penny’s attention had turned from her, it was all Lizzie could do not to run for the exit of The Three Broomsticks. She shut the door firmly behind her, cutting off the noise of the music and the dense crowd.

The cold air hit her heated body like a torrent of icy water. She contemplated slipping inside again to get her coat but ultimately decided against it. The quietness of the sleepy wizard village was a stark contrast to the raging concert going on inside the pub and Lizzie could feel her head clearing already.

Shivering, she wrapped her thin jacket tighter around her body and sat down on a wooden bench to the side of the building. The music reaching her ears from here was muffled, but she could still make out the familiar tunes.

Humming along to the melody under her breath, she closed her eyes and leaned her head against the cold stone wall behind her. Now, sitting outside in the crisp air of the winter evening, the whole situation from before seemed completely surreal. A dipping feeling was building inside her stomach, reminding her of the nerves she usually felt right before a Quidditch match.

If it wasn’t for the tingling she could still feel in her fingertips from when Orion had touched her, she almost would have believed it had been a fever dream. The sensation was spreading rapidly into every part of her body the more she thought about it. How rough his hand had felt, calloused from the many years he had dedicated to playing Quidditch; his hold had been gentle though, prompting her to follow his movements without even a second thought.

Lizzie covered her eyes with both her hands. Her thoughts were running wild and she tried in vain to reign them in by taking slow and deliberate breaths. It was a technique Orion had taught her way back in her first season, when she had been a nervous wreck before her first match.

She let out a small cry of frustration as she realised how Orion had entered her mind again without being invited.

“You cold, snowflake?”

The sound of the familiar voice startled Lizzie from her thoughts with force. Jolting upright, she almost slid off the cold wood of the bench, only catching herself at the last moment.

“Don’t you dare scare me like that ever again,” she huffed, scrambling back into a more dignified position than lying half on the frozen ground.

Charlie only raised an eyebrow, a badly contained grin showing on his freckled face. Much to her relief, her black coat was hanging over his arm, while his other hand juggled two steaming mugs of mulled cider.

Lizzie shuffled over to made room for him on the bench. She took her coat off Charlie and shrugged it on, only now realising how cold she had actually been. As he handed her one of the warm mugs, she gratefully wrapped both her hands around it. The stinging in her palms as the blood came rushing back into them made her grimace, but it also helped clear her head properly.

“How did you know I was out here?” she asked her red-haired friend who had slumped down beside her.

Charlie took a moment to blow against his cider before taking a tentative sip, instantly wincing as he found it still too hot to drink. “How could I not? You practically fled the room after dancing with Amari; you almost knocked me out in fact.”

Startled, Lizzie blinked at Charlie. She hadn’t even noticed him.

She blew against her own cup before raising it to her lips. The sweet cider almost burned the tip of her tongue, but the warmth it spread from her stomach felt divine against the bitter cold.

Lizzie sighed, her breath forming as a cloud before her face.

“So you saw us dancing?”

“Are you kidding?” Charlie tried for another sip, more successful this time. “I think pretty much everyone saw. I mean, both of you have been on the Quidditch team for years now; people know you. I bet it’s quite the buzz already.” His laugh died in his throat when he saw her miserable expression.

Lizzie hung her head, her fears confirmed. Of course the people around them would have seen them, but she had hoped for the crowd having been too thick for anyone else to notice.

Her mind briefly flickered to Rowan. It was the first time since arriving at Hogsmeade she thought about what she had promised to her friend. This was certainly not what she had thought would happen, when she had dragged Orion onto the dancefloor just to get rid of Everett.

They sat in silence for a moment, sipping on their warming drinks, Charlie allowing his friend to process the information he’d just given her.

“So, do you have a thing for him?” Charlie eventually asked her cautiously. When he saw her wince uncomfortably, he added a teasing “Do I need to be jealous of Orion Amari, of all people?” in a futile attempt to lift the mood.

Lizzie didn’t feel like bantering though. To drive her point home, she gave Charlie a pointed look, eyebrows quirked up, until he stopped laughing at her plight. Contemplating his original question, shook her head thoughtfully.

“I’ve no idea; I don’t know what happened in there.” She started drumming her fingertips against the rapidly cooling glass. “I never even thought of him other than a friend,” she mumbled more to herself, if anything.

Charlie silently watched her. He couldn’t recall a time when he had seen his otherwise confident friend as thoroughly rattled as in this moment.

“I don’t know if it helps, but the two of you would make quite the couple. The sparks flying between you could have been breathed by a Hungarian Horn Tail, from what I’ve seen.”

Judging by Lizzie’s unmoving expression, he feared he had chosen entirely the wrong way to cheer her up once again. But to his relief, a trace of the Lizzie he knew glinted in her eyes a moment later.

She playfully shoved at him, the cider in his hands almost slopping out of the mug and over his hands.

“What do you even know, Weasley?” She rolled her eyes at him, but wasn’t quick enough to hide the smile spreading on her face.

“Not much, I guess. Remember, according to Andre, I’m secretly a ginger troll.” He made a funny face what was probably supposed to be his personification of a troll. Beaming at successfully making her giggle, Charlie got up off the bench and offered Lizzie his hand. Accepting it, he pulled her up into a standing position.

His face grew serious, eyes flicking towards the fogged windows of The Three Broomsticks for a moment.

“Speaking of Andre, I’d better go see how he’s doing. I left him in a pretty state when I went after you.”

Lizzie tilted her head in confusion. “Why?”

Charlie sighed. “He got dumped pretty much as soon as we got here,” he elaborated. “Turned out his sweetheart was just after a pretty dress made especially for her. Andre found her snogging a guy from her year when he got back with drinks for them.

Despite her messy state of mind, Lizzie’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “Are you serious?”

She slammed her mug down onto the windowsill of the pub, turning all her confusion into righteous outrage at the foul treatment of her friend.

“Where is that sneaky twat? I’m going to punch that smug little face of hers!”

Hurriedly getting rid of his own mug, it was all Charlie could do to restrain the furious girl.

“Woah, calm down, that’s helping no one!”

“But she can’t just go and treat someone as lovely as Andre like that!” Lizzie tried to wiggle past Charlie, who looped his arms around her until her sudden flare of temper seemed to wear off.

Not entirely sure if it was a good idea, Charlie carefully let go off her, relieved she didn’t immediately use her regained freedom to storm back into the building and start a bar fight.

“I agree, sunshine; but hear me out: I can get you out of detention for a lot of things with my prefect bonus. Hitting another girl probably isn’t one of them though.”

Just to be sure, he put his hands on Lizzie’s shoulder and turned her around, marching her a few steps away from the entrance door.

“Tell you what, I’m going to go get Andre and then we’ll just head back to the castle together, alright? No hitting, no violence.”

Lizzie was still grumbling indignantly under her breath, but agreed after a moment.  

As soon as Charlie had vanished inside however, Lizzie turned on her heels, marching along the main road at full speed. She hoped to be well out of sight before Charlie had located Andre and convinced him to leave .

She knew he would be furious with her for returning to the castle alone, and rightly so. The light was completely gone by now and the road back to the castle led through a stretch of forest for a good part. Although well lit, it was an unspoken agreement that neither of them was to go alone.

But she was in no mood for company. Neither did she want to comfort a heartbroken Andre, nor did she have a mind for Charlie’s jokes trying to cheer them up. She needed to get herself under control before seeing her friends. Seeing Rowan.

Seeing Orion.

She picked up her pace, walking as fast as she could without actually breaking into a run, her breath soon becoming heavier.

What a fine mess she’d manoeuvred herself into. Try as she might, she couldn’t deny the fluttery feeling still rising in her stomach even now when she thought back on dancing with Orion, how good his hand had felt on her waist and how badly she had wanted to rake her fingers through his long, jet black hair.

Lizzie forced her mind to stop with all the willpower she had to muster.

No. This was Orion Amari she was thinking about in an absolute inappropriate manner. Her friend, her teammate and her team captain. The guy her best friend wanted Lizzie to set her up with.

She came to an abrupt halt next one of the wrought-iron lampposts lighting the way and kicked a heap of frozen leaves out of pure frustration. It didn’t soothe her agitation in the slightest. Suddenly feeling deflated, she leaned her forehead against the cold metal post and closed her eyes to shut out everything but her own thoughts.

She would not do this to Rowan.  

She just couldn’t. Rowan was her friend. Lizzie had promised her to help.

A sudden cold drop on her neck made her shiver inadvertently, quickly followed by another and another. Lizzie opened her eyes again and lifted her face to the dark sky. Despite her inner turmoil, she felt a wondrous smile steal on her face as she gazed up into the darkness, all sorrow forgotten.

It had finally started snowing.

[starrswife]

What Goes On - Ringo x Reader

Friends from childhood, an unlikely pair of Liverpudlians face the challenges of growing up.

-

Thank you @moodysunflowergirl for beta-reading this chapter and being so kind to me.  

I hope you all enjoy this series!     

-

Word Count - 2.1k

Warnings - none

Chapter Summary - November, 1957, Y/n decides to concentrate on schoolwork, but a bored and restless Richard has other plans. 

-

“Doncha half to get back to work soon?” Y/n attempted to ask, mouth full.

Everyday since Richard had dropped out of school, he bought her a pastry from the local bakery and walked her home during his lunch break. At first, the baked good had served as reparations for what Y/n said was, quote, “Abandoning me all alone in hell,” but the tradition continued to stick.

“Nah, my boss let me off early,” he walked backwards to face her, “What do ya’ wanna do? My whole day’s cleared.”

Chewing her last bite, she brushed off her hands of any crumbs. Rich gestured for her to take back the schoolbag she forced him to carry, despite knowing she would just shake her head and make him hold it for the entire walk.

“I’ve got to study, I’m sorry.”

“Again? But you’ve been at it the entire week,” he complained.

“College is a lot more difficult than our old school, Rich. But I’ll go over to yours, if you’d like. Maybe… say, tutor you a bit?”

He rolled his eyes and turned back to face the right way.

“Don’t waste your energy trying.”

She huffed, “Fine, be illiterate your entire life.”

“I’m not illiterate.”

“You can hardly spell.”

“Well, I can read.”

“Oh, lovely, at seventeen years old, you’ve got at least half of it down.”

“Lay off you prick.”

Richard made a move to shove Y/n, but she dodged it, taking off down the sidewalk.

Accepting the stupidly immature challenge, he wasted no time chasing after her.

They maneuvered through pram-pushers who gave them a friendly nod, and business men who scowled at the very sight of their smiling faces.

The icy air felt like blades against her skin as she ran, but with Richie gaining on her, she only sped up the pace. Like usual Liverpool weather, the sky kept at a gloomy grey, and the cobble walkways were darker in color, dampened by the previous night’s rain.

Y/n hopped over the puddles, not wanting to get her oxfords dirty, but Richie couldn’t bring himself to care, charging straight through them.

Reaching their turn and not wanting to give up, Y/n sprinted across the road, Rich following close behind. They screamed out of both fear and amusement when cars honked at them, or shouted, expressing their vexation.

“No!” Y/n yelled, glancing backwards. She tried to speed up, but it was too late. Richard grabbed her arm and pulled her back, wrapping his arms around her shoulders to keep her from escaping. They struggled to catch their breath, each puff coming out as white clouds, that faded into the air. It proved difficult to do so, while simultaneously in a fit of laughter.

“Let me go!”

“Surrender!”

“Never!” Y/n wriggled around in his grip, but to no avail.

“I won’t until you admit what a loser you are.”

Rich laughed, a high pitched and boyish sound that always evoked a smile from Y/n, even while she was mumbling about how much of an arse he was.

Eventually tiring out, she went limp, fully defeated.

“You give up? Say it.”

“I give up.”

“And what?”

“You win, and I’m a loser! Now get off of me.”

He obliged with a grin of triumph then stepped away, and immediately, the winter air chilled her spine as if a blanket had been ripped off of her.

Was it odd to want the warmth back? To want him to pull her closer?

She walked a bit farther away from him, deciding it was odd.

They fell into comfortable silence, enjoying their peaceful stroll as they usually did when not bantering. As the town led further into Richie’s neighborhood, the houses became more and more decrepit, tiny lots with peeling paint and splintered door frames. Abundant rubble, sad reminders of the war, had become playgrounds for imaginative schoolboys. They had grown used to these surroundings, and now, reaching 10 Admiral Grove, the dirt coated bricks and rusty letterbox had become a warm, familiar welcome.

They hung up their coats and headed up the creaky, narrow stairs to his room.

Rich slung her bag onto the bed and sighed in relief. The amount of textbooks she had to haul around made him glad he’d dropped out.

Y/n sat at the foot of the bed, grabbing her bag and pulling out a few of them.

“Mind if I practice a bit?” Richie asked, already walking towards his drums. His stepdad, Harry, had recently bought him his very own set, and he had become a menace, constantly playing, even into late hours of the night.

She groaned. She loved his drumming, really, but it wasn’t the best background noise for calculus homework. Still, she nodded for him to go ahead.

An hour passed, and Richie was now lying on the floor, twirling his drumsticks. One slipped and smacked him on the face, and he glanced up at Y/n to make sure she didn’t see that. Luckily, she was laying on his bed, fully absorbed in her history notes.

Another hour gone. Richie put on a record and cranked up the volume. Y/n made him turn it down. He resorted to making tea.

Sixty minutes later. His half-drunk tea had gotten cold and now sat solitary on his table. He was laying beside Y/n, flipping through her books and giggling about the human anatomy photos.

By six in the evening, Richard had grown fidgety and impatient.

“Y/n.”

No reply.

“Y/n.”

Nothing.

“Fine. I’ll just take a nap.”

He laid back and sprawled his limbs about the bed, making a point to bother her. With his leg over her back and an arm balanced on her head, she finally snapped at him in irritation.

“What do you want?”

He stared directly at her for a moment, then shut his eyes and pretended to snore.

Y/n pushed him off of her and grabbed a pillow to try to suffocate him.

“Someone help!”

He dramatically writhed around before going limp like a corpse.

Slowly, she lifted the pillow up, peering behind it to see his face, eyes shut with his tongue hanging out of the corner of his mouth.

He snatched the pillow from her and pushed her over with it.

She screamed, stifling her laughs and curling into a ball as Rich whacked her with it, her schoolwork spilling off the bed.

“I hate you,” she stated as he flopped backwards, both out of breath.

“Aww,” he cooed mockingly. She threw the pillow at him and got up to retrieve the things from the floor. “Seriously?”

“Seriously, what?”

“It’s been hours, Y/n. It’s Friday night. Let’s go do something.”

“I look horrible, I don’t want to go out.”

“No you don’t, you always look nice. Can we go, please, please, please, plea-“

“Ok, fine! Let me get ready, will you?”

Like a puppy, Richie sat on the edge of the bed, watching Y/n intently as she stood in front of the mirror, trying her best to brush her wind-tousled hair with his comb. She readjusted her black headband, making sure her bangs were out to frame her face. Once finished, she grabbed a tube of rosy lipstick from her bag, and dotted just a bit on before rubbing her lips together to blend it.

It had to look natural.

Her mother had once told her she looked like a hooker for wearing full coverage makeup, and for some strange reason, she felt uncomfortable doing anything remotely feminine around her father. Even when they weren’t near, the need to appease them stuck.

She turned around, “How do I look?”

“Like a square,” he teased.

Y/n glared, and he was quick to reword his statement.

“A pretty square!”

/

The gusty, evening air was as cold as ever, and the two of them stuffed their hands in their pockets, trying to somehow shrink themselves into the warmth of their coats.

“What did you do at work today?” Y/n asked, shivering.

“Uhm, we really just fooled around. Roy, Eddie, and me.”

“Ah, I gotta see the Eddie Miles band in action one day.” “Actually, we renamed ourselves Eddie Clayton and the Clayton Squares. We might pick up some gigs soon, I don’t know, hopefully.”

“Oh, that’d be fab. I’ll be there for every one of your shows,” she looked up to meet his eye, “I promise.”

Richie smiled. It was small, but sincere and warm. He held her gaze just a bit longer, admiring how she looked under the yellow glow of the lampposts. The tip of her nose was pink from the cold, and the way she looked all bundled up was so... so... adorable.

He cleared his throat and turned away from her. “Thanks.”

They got on the bus to Garston, and as it was Y/n’s turn to pay the driver, she caught up to Rich when she was finished.

Even if the bus was completely vacant, the two ran up to sit on the second floor, racing to get there before it started driving again. It was just another one of their antics.

Finally arriving at Wilson Hall, the two took off their coats and followed the crowd to the dance floor. On stage was a group of rough-looking boys, playing as loud as they could with their makeshift instruments. The audience nearly matched the volume, laughing and hollering as they spun about.

“Well, c’mon then,” Richie grinned, reaching out to grab her hands.

She giggled bashfully as he twirled her, and after a bit, loosened up until the both of them were twisting wildly as if their life depended on it. Richard’s slicked back curls bobbed as he stepped, and Y/n’s circle skirt swayed proudly with her hips.

It was crowded, hot, and stuffy, but while dancing, no one seemed to care. It was electrifying, freeing, and for once they were able to forget about their hardships and stresses.

The song came to an end and the crowd gave an applause, eagerly awaiting for the next band to come on.

“I’m going for a coke, d’you want anything?”

Y/n shook her head, “I’m okay, I’ll wait here.”

Rich nodded and squeezed his way through to the bar.

She stood alone, fiddling with her fingers as the next band started and the couples began to dance.

The music now was more jazz than rock or skiffle, and everyone was paired up, swinging each other around and leaving Y/n to stick out like a sore thumb.

Looking over the room, she thought about how much better the other girls looked than her. Their dresses were sleeveless, their faces glowing with expertly done makeup, and their hair somehow curled perfectly at the ends.

She tugged off her cardigan. Would that help? It didn’t show any skin -her button down blouse preventing it- but at least it took a layer off. She glanced down at herself. Were her boobs not big enough? Nah, they were an all-right size for her age, but maybe just a little bigger would be-

“You alright, miss?”

She gasped, snapping her eyes up from her chest.

There, towering over her, was a man with Elvis-esque hair, a fitted leather jacket, and a smirk tugging at his lips. He looked older, perhaps in his early twenties, and he… just wow.

Y/n was taken aback.

“I-I’m alright.”

“How come a pretty girl like you doesn’t have a partner?”

“Oh, uh, thank you. I’m actually waiting for someone to get back, he just,” Y/n awkwardly gestured behind her, lost for words.

“Mind if I keep you company until then?”

He offered his hand to dance, and with a hesitant nod, she accepted.

/

The trip home was almost silent.

Y/n vaguely addressed why she was gone the whole night, and Richard said it was okay.

After a bit of a search, he’d realized she was with another guy and went off to dance with the other birds too. However, he didn’t know how things had… escalated with her and the man.

He asked if she would step out with him. He was mysterious and suave, and it was exhilarating. How could she say no? But when the nameless man pressed her against the brick alley, hands caressing her hips and waist, a sudden tsunami of uncertainty and panic crashed against her. He was nearing her lips, but the once sensual closeness had become suffocating- she couldn’t do this!

“Y/n, love?”

She blinked out of it.

“What’s wrong? You’ve been staring at the wall.”

Spewing the words before she could think them through, Y/n deadpanned, “Teach me how to kiss.”

[lennonsprincess]

I Want You

Mal/Paul

*smut*

It wasn’t fair.

God, how could one boy be so pretty?

Mal sat in the corner of the studio, watching the boys rehearse.

Well, it was more like one specific boy.

And that boy was Paul.

Mal had recently found himself attracted to Paul, and not in an innocent kind of way. It was more of an “I need to fuck every hole you have”, kind of way.

It all started a few months ago when they were on tour. Everyone had been staying in hotel rooms. George and Ringo were in one room, Mal and Brian in the other, and most importantly, John and Paul in the last one, right beside Mal and Brian. One night, when Mal was just about to fall asleep, he heard some suspicious noises coming from the other side of the wall. It started off quiet, just a light thumping noise, but soon it started to get louder and faster, and before he knew it, he was hearing moans.

“Oh fuck John! Mm, harder!”

Mal’s eyes widened when he heard what was clearly Paul moaning and whimpering for John to fuck him. As much as Mal wanted to fall asleep, he couldn’t keep himself from listening to the gorgeous moans that were coming from Paul.

Mal shut his eyes tightly as he listened to Paul getting pounded, trying to ignore his hardening dick. Mal slowly turned his head toward Brian, sighing in relief when he found him fast asleep in the other bed. Mal slowly slid his hand to his clothed crotch, palming himself through his underwear. ‘I just need to relieve myself,’ Mal thought, ‘It’s not my fault Paul sounds like a girl.’

Mal closed his eyes as he slid his hand underneath his boxers, slowly wrapping his fingers around his hot shaft.

“Ah~ fuck me, Johnny! Harder mm!”

Mal blocked out John’s name from Paul’s cry as he pumped his fist, imagining he was the one fucking Paul. He could almost see what Paul looked like right now. Squirming as a cock was shoved roughly in and out of his perfect ass. Oh, his face would look so pretty. Puppy dog eyes glazed over with lust, pretty mouth hanging open and letting out the cutest little moans.

Mal couldn’t take it anymore. He came to sound Paul calling out John’s name, but the thought of him calling out his own.

Ever since then, Mal hasn’t been able to look at Paul without thinking of what he would look like underneath him, and it was driving him crazy.

Mal was snapped out of his daze when he heard a yell come from John.

“Holy shit Paul, we don’t need to start again! We’ve done it like 30 times! It’s not our fault you keep screwing up.”

Paul’s eyes darkened when he heard John.

“Oh, please,” Paul said sarcastically, “Don’t even pretend I’m the one screwing up, John.”

“God, sometimes you can be such a cunt.” John mumbled as he started to put away his guitar.

Paul’s eyes widened at John’s tone, clearly caught off guard by his comment.

“Excuse me?” Paul asked, raising his eyebrows.

“I said,” John started, closing his guitar case and turning towards Paul, “Sometimes you can be such a cunt.”

Paul stood completely still, his facial expression unreadable.

“Fine,” Paul said, biting his lip. “Play your own bloody bass then.”

And with that, Paul turned around and walked out of the studio, signaling Mal to follow. Mal assumed it was because John had driven Paul to the studio, and would now need Mal to drive him home. This sort of thing happened quite often. John would say something stupid to Paul and start a whole argument. Nothing too serious would ever come out of it, so Mal knew there was nothing to worry about. They were both usually fine the next day, and Mal always assumed it was because they had makeup sex that night

“You can drive me home, right?” Paul asked, turning around to face Mal.

“Yeah, I’ve got nothing better to do.” Mal joked, happy to see a small smile form on Paul’s face.

“Thanks.”

The car ride to Paul’s house was short and silent. With Paul staring out the window the whole time, it was hard to start a conversation.

Mal stopped the car at Paul’s house and unlocked the doors. As Paul reached for the handle he turned his head toward Mal.

“Thanks for driving me, Mal,” Paul said, a sad smile plastered on his face. He turned toward the door again and started to open it, when suddenly, he turned back toward Mal. “Hey, would you like to come in for a drink or somethin’?” Paul asked. Mal’s face lit up, but he quickly tried to hold in his excitement.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to be a bother.” Mal responded.

“Don’t be silly, you’re no bother. And plus, since John’s not here I’ll need some company.”

Mal didn’t know why, but the tone in Paul’s voice seemed a bit suggestive. It must’ve just been his imagination, he thought.

“Alright, why not.” Mal agreed.

As they walked through the front door of Paul’s house, Mal took a deep breath through his nose, taking in the warm smell that reminded him of Paul. They made their way through the hall and into the living room, where Paul motioned for Mal to take a seat. Mal slowly sat down and watched as Paul stood in front of him, legs pressed together and hands held behind his back in a nervous manner. Fuck, he looked so precious. Mal bit his lip, his eyes scanning Paul’s body.

“Uh- would you like something to drink?” Paul blurted out, ignoring the way Mal looked at him.

“Oh, I’m alright,” Mal responded.

Paul nodded awkwardly and sat down on the couch beside Mal. They sat in silence for a bit until Mal decided he had had enough.

“So how are things with John?” Mal asked, catching Paul a bit off guard.

“Oh- I…” He paused for a bit, “So are you just pretending you didn’t see what happened in the studio or…”

Mal laughed.

“No I mean… are you two a couple or what?”

Mal hoped he didn’t sound too wanting with that question. He just needed to know the answer. He needed to know if he could have Paul.

“Well… it’s complicated…” Paul said, looking down at his hand that was rubbing the leather couch. “I mean, I love John. Like a lot. But sometimes he can just be so stubborn. He says hurtful things all the time. He always says he doesn’t mean it, and I know he doesn’t, but it’s just so hard to believe him when he does it over and over again.”

Mal nodded.

“It’s just… not too good for my mental health y’know?” Paul joked a bit.

Mal chuckled, looking down at the coffee table by his knees,

“Is there anything you do like about your relationship?”

Paul took a moment to process Mal’s question and smiled,

“Well… the sex is pretty good.”

Bingo

“Oh yeah?” Mal asked with a smirk.

Paul nodded shyly.

“And how often does that happen?”

“Almost every night.” Paul laughed nervously, “That’s the reason I’m so angry that we got into an argument… I was looking forward to tonight.”

Paul mumbled that last bit just loud enough for Mal to hear.

“Had something planned for tonight, did ya?” Mal said with a wicked smile.

Paul was planning on not responding to that question, but somehow his body took control and he nodded his head.

“And what would that be?”

Paul didn’t respond.

“Y’know…” Mal started, inching closer to Paul, “You don’t always need John to give you pleasure.”

Paul looked up at Mal with a confused look on his face.

“What do you mean?”

Instead of responding, Mal slowly moved his hand to rest on Paul’s thigh, hoping that that would send him the message.

Paul’s face turned a dark shade of pink when he realized what Mal was insinuating. Paul let out a whimper as Mal started to move his large hand up towards Paul’s crotch.

“Why don’t you tell me what John was going to do to you,” Mal whispered in Paul’s ear, causing a shiver to run down Paul’s spine.

“I- he was gonna… mm tie me up…” Paul whimpered.

Mal felt his dick twitch at that.

“And…?”

“And… he said he was… Mm!-” Paul was cut off by a moan, caused by Mal giving his crotch a squeeze. “He said he was gonna… f-fuck me until I couldn’t walk.”

“Mm... and anything else?” Mal mumbled, moving his other hand underneath Paul’s shirt.

“Y-Yes… he was gonna make me his g-good boy… ah~ his dirty slut…”

Mal smiled at that, looking Paul straight in the eye.

“You know who else can do that?” Mal growled.

Paul knew the answer to that question but shook his head anyway.

“Me.”

And with that Mal forcibly pushed Paul down onto the couch, attacking his lips roughly. Paul let out a moan as he felt Mal’s hand begin to make its way up to his neck.

Kissing Paul was just how Mal imagined. His lips were plump and soft, like two pillows. They felt so good against his rougher ones. Mal wanted to stay like this forever, but he knew there were more important matters to get to.

“Why don’t we head to the bedroom?” Mal said against Paul’s lips, breaking the kiss.

Paul nodded his head feverishly.

It was when they both stood up to make their way to the bedroom when Paul realized how tall Mal really was. He towered over Paul by 7 inches and it made Paul feel so small. He loved it. Paul suddenly got butterflies in his stomach at the thought of what Mal could do to him. He could probably hold him down, pick him up, and even throw him around the room with ease. God, Paul couldn’t wait. John was pretty good at those kinds of things, but Paul could imagine how well someone bigger than John would do it.

When they entered the bedroom, Mal immediately slammed Paul against the wall, causing him to let out a high pitched squeak. Mal chuckled as he attacked Paul’s mouth with his own, nearly shoving his tongue down Paul’s throat. Paul moaned into the kiss as he felt Mal’s hands roam up and down his body, stopping when they found his ass. Mal roughly squeezed Paul’s ass, making Paul break the kiss and moan.

“Mm Mal!” Paul whined as Mal moved his kisses to Paul’s neck.

“So sweet…” Mal groaned in between kisses.

Paul was getting impatient. He wanted Mal to fuck him, and he wanted it now.

“Mm fuck me, Mal! Oh please!” Paul cried.

Mal stopped his movements and looked down at Paul, admiring how absolutely wrecked he looked already. His hair a mess, his cheeks red, and his doe eyes watering. He looked so beautifully vulnerable, and it made Mal feel powerful.

“Sorry, what was that?” Mal teased.

“Ngh- fuck me!” Paul whined.

“Fuck me, who?”

Mal knew what he wanted, and he wasn’t stopping until he got it.

“... fuck me, Mal?” Paul asked quietly.

“Try again,” Mal commanded, running a hand up toward Paul’s neck.

“Fuck me… s-sir?”

“Closer…”

Paul’s eyes scanned Mal’s body, trying to find some sort of a clue to what Mal was implying. Soon, Paul found himself lost in the thought of how large and strong Mal was. The large hand on his neck made Paul feel like a little boy compared to him.

Oh.

Paul got it.

“Daddy…” Paul whispered, still unsure that it was the right move.

“I’m sorry, baby, could you speak up?” Mal asked, squeezing Paul’s neck.

“Mmm… daddy! F-Fuck me, daddy!” Paul cried, losing all self-control.

Mal grinned at that and quickly threw Paul onto the bed. Paul gasped as he hit the bed, but quickly shut up when Mal flipped him over and started to pull down his pants.

“God your ass is lovely, Paulie…” Mal groaned when he got Paul’s pants off. “No wonder John fucks it so often.”

Paul whined at the mention of John.

“Is it only John who fucks it, or do other men do as well?” Mal questioned as he rubbed Paul’s ass cheeks, giving them a light slap.

Paul squeaked.

“Does he share you?”

Paul shook his head, knowing that John could never let such a thing happen. Mal noticed Paul’s response.

“Oh… you must be getting bored of the same old cock. You need to be reshaped.” Mal commented, spreading Paul’s cheeks and taking a look at his hole. He groaned when he saw it twitch. “Where’s the lube.”

“I-In the drawer…” Paul whimpered, pointing toward the table beside the bed.

Mal leaned over Paul to grab the lube out of the drawer. As he leaned over he took a quick glance at Paul’s lips, suddenly giving him the need to have them wrapped around something.

“Turn around,” Mal said sternly, as he pulled down his pants.

Paul complied and turned around to face Mal, gasping as his eyes met his enormous dick. Paul had never seen dick so big. He thought John’s was big, but now looking at Mal’s, John seemed small. Paul wasn’t sure if he could take it all.

“Y-Your so big,” Paul said in an innocent voice.

“Mm, could you take it in your mouth, baby?” Mal asked.

Paul wasn’t sure if he could, but he nodded anyway and brought his head to Mal’s cock. He opened his mouth and wrapped his lips around the tip, noticing how wide he had to open his mouth to fit the head in. Paul carefully licked the tip, moaning when he felt John wrap his fingers in his hair. Paul slowly started to take more of Mal in his mouth, hollowing out his cheeks to try and fit it in. Once Mal’s cock hit the back of Paul’s throat, he started to bob up and down his shaft. Paul dragged his tongue along the underside of Mal’s dick, causing him to groan and pull Paul’s hair. Paul’s head jerked forward from the force of the tug, making the cock in his mouth to slip into the back of his throat. Paul gagged and pulled back a bit, looking up at Mal.

“M that’s right, Paulie. Choke on my cock.” Mal grumbled, yanking Paul forward once again and taking a deep breath through his nose as he felt his cock go down Paul’s throat.

Paul felt tears start to form in his eyes as Mal started to throat fuck him. He gagged nearly every time Mal pushed in, finding himself unable to open his throat up for Mal’s cock. It was just too thick.

Mal suddenly felt his orgasm start to approach and quickly pulled out of Paul’s mouth. He couldn’t let himself cum without fucking Paul.

Mal quickly pushed Paul down on his back, keeping one hand splayed on his chest. Paul gasped as he felt a wet finger circle the rim of his whole.

“Mmm…” Paul whimpered, spreading his legs.

Mal slowly pushed one finger into Paul’s tight hole and started to open Paul up.

“Oh… mm daddy.” Paul moaned as he was stretched.

“You like that baby boy?” Mal growled. “You like my fingers in your ass?”

“Y-yes… but I w-want your cock.” Paul whimpered as Mal added a second finger.

“Already Paulie? Aren’t you a needy slut.”

Paul whined when Mal pulled out his fingers and lined up his cock with his hole. Paul lifted his head up to look down at Mal’s cock, gasping when he noticed how thick it was compared to his small hole. He had no idea how it was going to fit.

“You ready, baby?” Mal asked.

“Mmhm…” Paul leaned his head back on the bed and closed his eyes.

Mal pushed into Paul, groaning at the feeling of Paul stretching around him.

“Ah…” Paul whined as he was nearly split in half around Mals cock.

Mal continued to push in until he bottomed out.

“God look at you spread around my cock, taking it so well.” Mal praised as he pulled out and pushed back in, making Paul cry out.

“Oh, d-daddy! You’re too big!” Paul squeaked as Mal continued to thrust in and out of him. Paul swore he could feel him in his stomach.

“Oh but you take it so well baby,” Mal said speeding up his thrusts. “God such a slut.”

Suddenly, Mal hit Paul’s prostate, causing Paul to scream.

“I-Oh D-daddy!! Mmm, fuck me!”

Mal looked down at Paul and grinned as he sped up his thrusts, loving how beautiful Paul looked underneath him. Mal’s eyes traveled down to Paul’s stomach, where he saw a sight he never expected. He could see his own dick pressing against Paul’s stomach, pulsing in and out. Mal quickly pressed his hand onto Paul’s stomach, groaning as he felt himself inside Paul.

“Mmm, you feel that baby?” Mal mumbled as he thrusted into Paul.

“Mmm fuck! Ah… daddy!” Paul seemed to be in his own world, clearly not hearing what Mal had said. Tears were streaming down his face as he was stretched like he never had been before. Paul was in heaven.

“Oh god, Paulie I’m close…” Mal moaned as he felt his orgasm approach. “Mmm gonna release my hot cum inside your… tight little hole.”

“Oh please do! I n-need it… mm ah-!” Paul screamed as his own orgasm tore through him unexpectedly. Spilling his semen all over his stomach. Mal followed, grunting as he buried himself as deep as he could in Paul while his cum poured into him. Paul whimpered at the feeling of being filled with Mal. It was unlike anything he’s felt before.

To Paul’s displeasure, Mal began to pull out of Paul, causing Paul to whine as he started to clench around Mal to try to get him to stay in.

“Please stay… mm just a bit longer.” Paul pleaded.

Mal smiled and pushed back in.

“Not for too long though…”

And as if on cue, the two men heard the front door open.

 John.

[forgadgetsandgizmos]

Boys Like You

Written for Day 1 of Malex Week 2020 | Prompt: Meet Ugly | In all honesty, this is probably closer to meet awkward than meet ugly, but. . . close enough.

Summary: Alex has coffee with Maria's one-night stand, a man who he definitely does not have a crush on.

Read on AO3

Alex shook coffee drops off the small spoon on the edge of the cup he just finished stirring and took a gingerly sip, wincing as the hot liquid rushed over his tongue. He’d barely had time to swallow before a thud followed by a hushed curse made its way from the hallway leading to Maria’s room.

A man, half-dressed and frazzled, hopped on one leg into the kitchen, his other leg being shoved into a pair of pants gripped tight in his hands. The man finally succeeded and immediately turned his gaze to the floor, apparently too focused on his search to notice Alex’s presence in the room. Judging by the man’s bare feet and empty pockets, Alex would guess he’s looking for his shoes, perhaps a wallet or keys. Neither things Alex had noticed laying around since waking up, but it was just after 5:30 in the morning. It was possible he’d missed them.

Alex took another small sip of his coffee, content with watching the man fumble about the house. As he bent over to search the floor, his still-unfastened pants dipped to reveal a slim, muscular back and black briefs. He wore a white t-shirt, frayed and stretched around the collar from wear. The shirt’s tight fit around the man’s shoulders and arms revealed modest but impressive muscles, especially when he flexed them to lift up the living room coffee table. Curly, dirty blond hair (the mere description ‘curly’ felt like an injustice) twisted in every direction off his head, a sharp contrast with the scruff darkening his strong jawline and scowl-ridden face.

Alex made a mental note to compliment Maria on her excellent taste in men.

A few seconds of fruitless searching later, Alex took pity on the man. “What are you searching for,” he asked loudly.

The man — Curls, Alex decided to call him, in absence of a better name — tensed at his voice, twirling around. His eyes landed on Alex and narrowed. “Who are you?”

Alex arched an eyebrow at his defensive tone. “Maria’s roommate.”

“What are you doing up so early?”

“This is my house,” Alex answered, waving his hand around the room as if to display the evidence. “I should be asking that of you.”

Curls tilted his head as if to begrudgingly acknowledge the truth of his statement.

“What are you looking for?” Alex repeated when it seemed like Curls wasn’t going to say anything else.

He shoved his hands into his jean pockets with a short, high-pitched chuckle. “My, uh, shoes and wallet.”

Alex allowed himself a moment of satisfaction for guessing the missing items correctly before responding. “I haven’t seen them in here” —the kitchen, he means— “and you seem to have checked the living room pretty thoroughly. Try the hall by the front door.”

Curls complied, ducking out of sight for a few seconds before returning with shoes in hand and a square-shaped bulge in his back pocket. He nodded his thanks, plopped down onto the nearest couch seat, and slid the shows on. He paused and looked to Alex before asking: “Got any coffee?”

Alex couldn’t say no to that head of hair and hopeful expression. He motioned to the coffee maker behind him which held the leftover coffee from the pot he was currently drinking. “Coffee mugs are in the cabinet above it.”

Curls rubbed his hands together eagerly and made his way towards him, briefly brushing his arm against Alex’s on his way past. He grabbed a cup from the cabinet as directed and poured the rest of the coffee from the pot into it. It was enough for just under a full cup.

“Don’t have cream, but the sugars still out,” Alex offered apologetically. He felt strangely responsible for feeding the rough looking man, despite usually avoiding Maria’s occasional one-night stands.

“This is great,” Curls assured him. He grabbed the clay sugar holder and lumped the sugar straight into his cup, not bothering with the spoon on the counter.

Alex’s eyes widened at the minimum of half-a-cup of sugar disappeared into the dark liquid. Alex liked a spoonful or two here or there, but part of what he enjoyed about coffee was the bitter flavor. It did wonders for waking him up. Curls apparently felt the opposite.

He wrapped his hands around the mug and took a big sip, unfazed by the high temperature. Alex followed suite with his own and they stood in comfortable silence for several minutes.

Suddenly, Curls sucked in a breath. “Shit, I’m running late.” He downed his drink and reached past Alex to rinse it out with soap and water before placing it in back in the cabinet where he got it.

“Oh, thanks,” Alex said, appreciative of the action. “Where do you have to be?”

“Old man Sanders’ Junkyard. I’m a mechanic. He likes early mornin’s.”

Alex nodded and leaned against the counter. He watched Curls pull a set of keys (hell yeah, he was right about that too) from the same pocket as the wallet and head towards the door.

Before he turned the corner into the hall, he spun on his heel to face Alex and grinned, tipping his head towards him in a mockery of the ‘hats off’ gesture, though without the hat. “Thanks for the coffee, Private,” he drawled, relaxed and swaggering. Without missing a beat, he finished his spin and turned the corner.

Alex didn’t move until he heard the slam of the front door shutting behind him.

(It didn’t occur to him until almost ten minutes later when he was putting on his fatigues that Curls had called him private when he hadn’t even told the man his name, much less that he was in the Air Force. It wouldn’t be until after dinner that night when he was doing the dishes that he’d wash the Air Force issue mug he’d brought home from base and realize it was the mug he’d been using when he and Curls had shared coffee.)

—

He didn’t see Curls again for a month. He’d forgotten about him, really, until the man stumbled into his kitchen on a Saturday morning the same way he did last time. He’d replaced the white shirt with a similarly worn grey one, and his jeans had darkened to match. His namesake, his golden mane matted on one side from sleep, hadn’t changed at all.

There was no pandering this time, no awkward questioning. The man merely looked up, smirked, and said, “You again!”

“Me again,” Alex agreed. “What are you doing up so early this time? It’s a Saturday.”

“The work doesn’t stop. If anything, we get busier. People got plenty of time to bring cars by when they don’t need ’em for work. What about you, Private?” Curls asked, tilting his chin up towards Alex’s outfit of sweats and coffee mug in hand.

“I like to keep a schedule, even on the weekends. Otherwise, I’ll never get up during the week.”

Curls made a noise of understanding and took a hesitant step forward. “Got any coffee this time?”

Alex smiled and nodded. “Same as last time. You remember?”

“Of course.” Curls face scrunched up, the meaning behind it clear, at least to Alex. Obviously, he was saying.

Alex reminded himself he couldn’t find it adorable, not when it was on the face of a man who seemed to be somewhat of a favorite of Maria’s. He watched him pour the same, overly large amount of sugar into his coffee as before and swirl it around.

“Spoons are in the drawer beside you, if you need one,” Alex offered.

Curls took a sip before making a face. “Yeah, I probably do,” he said, smacking his lips. He slid the drawer open and grabbed a long spoon from the back holder to stir the sugar. With the spoon still in the cup, he took another testing sip. “Much better,” he announced.

“Good.” Not sure what else to say, Alex fell silent and turned his attention to his drink.

“Sorry to steal your coffee and run, but I woke up late on purpose, so I gotta go,” Curls said, almost apologetically.

“I get it,” Alex chuckled. “Not everyone’s a morning person.”

“I’m definitely not.” Curls finished chugging what was left of his coffee and cleaned out his cup, putting it back up like last time.

“You know where your stuff is this time?” Alex asked.

Curls laughed at that, bright and loud. “I do, yes. Little less drinking involved this time around.”

Damn. That meant this, Curls and Maria, was probably going to become a thing. Alex watched him leave and felt a sort of familiar resignation settle in.

—

Alex decided he was crazy. Or hallucinating, maybe. What other reason was there to feel this kinship with a man he spoke to for a half hour twice a month, three if he’s lucky? And yet he did.

He tried not to feel guilty over Maria sleeping in her room during their talks.

—

They were three months into their morning coffee talks when Alex finally figured out Curls’ real name.

The jeep needed an oil change. He could do it himself, he knew how, but his leg made a lot of simple, physical labor overly complicated. It didn’t hurt that the best mechanic in town also happened to be a certain, curly-haired man who worked early mornings at Sanders’ Junkyard.

When he arrived, he stepped out of his jeep to find a familiar pair of boots sticking out from underneath a car parked walking distance from a visibly lived-in Airstream.

“Michael Guerin, the mechanic?” Alex asked, taking a hesitate step forward.

“That’s me,” the voice called. “Give me a second, I’ll be right with you.”

Alex clicked his tongue in response and shoved his hands in his pocket, letting his feet drag through the dirt and sand under him. He didn’t have to wait long before wheels screeched, and the man slid out from under the car.

He stood quickly, wiping grease off his hands with a dirty towel he grabbed off the hood of the car he’d been working on, asking: “What can I help you with?” as he turned to Alex. When his eyes landed on Alex he froze, eyes comically large. “You?”

“Me,” Alex said. “I need an oil change. A friend told me you were the best mechanic in town.”

“A friend, huh?” Michael asked, stepping closer.

Alex nodded. “You and Maria broke it off.”

Michael tilted his head. “Was that supposed to be a question?”

“I guess not.”

“You don’t seem like the kind of guy to need help with an oil change,” Michael stated, looking him up and down.

Alex smirked. “Was that supposed to be a question?” he returned.

“Okay, I deserved that,” Michael chuckled.

Alex’s mouth dropped a little at the sight, suddenly breathless at the sight of the sun’s kiss reflecting off Michael’s immaculate working-cowboy look with his torn jeans and stained black hands.

“You drove all the way out here for an oil change?”

Moment of truth, Alex supposed. “I drove all the way out here for you to give me an oil change.”

A beat, and then, “You know Maria and I are done. She tell you why?”

Alex shook his head slowly.

“We weren’t serious, at most friends with the occasional benefit when we were bored or lonely,” Michael explained.

Alex hunched over and took a half-step back. What was the point in telling him this? Alex had been there; he didn’t need a recap.

“We broke it off whenever one of us found someone we were interested in, no harm done,” he continued, either not noticing or not acknowledging Alex’s reaction. “I broke it off this time,” he said with an air of finality. He met Alex’s eyes expectantly.

Alex didn’t need him to continue to fill in the blanks. He broke it off because he found someone better than either of them. “Congrats?” Alex offered weakly, regretting letting Maria talk him into driving out here.

Michael huffed and rolled his eyes dramatically.

“You, goof.” Michael shook his head, an incredulous expression on his face.

Alex blinked. Him?

Oh.

Oh.

Alex didn’t even try to stop the grin spreading over his face. He took two large steps forward and kissed him exactly what he’d been wanting to do for months. Michael’s lips melted under his, soft and pliant. He deepened the kiss, letting his hands tangle in Michael’s hair, but was interrupted by a whisper of a laugh against his lips.

He pulled back just enough to rest their foreheads together and opened his eyes, meeting Michael’s shining back at him. “You’re laughing at me,” he mumbled, not moving. His fell back to Michael’s lips, stretching in a small smile.

“Shut up and kiss me, Private.”

And of course, Alex obliged.

[smolie]

in december i wrote a 2020 year music review for myself that i intended to post here BUT...because i was infamously restricted twice last year, i didn’t bother since you wouldn’t be able to read it anyway because it was not possible to view my blog hjfdhfd

now that my restricted era is (hopefully forever) over i just want to post it here for the sake of completion since i want to do the same thing this year

this is really long so if you actually read it ... idk you are insane in the membrane and i love you... but i genuinely don’t expect anyone to read this hjfdhjf i just like reflecting on the music i have listened to and be able to look back on what i enjoyed in certain stages of my life! okiiii bye 💗

january

mac miller - circles (album) it’s a bit funny that i worried putting my thoughts down about this album and now it turns out to be first on the list, chronologically of course … oh bittersweet irony </3 listening to this album is such a double edged sword, either way i am always hit with a truckload of feelings when i turn to this release.

this album came to me in a time of my life where i was slowly but surely sliding down towards rock bottom again just after i got out of it and thought i was okay. the times i’ve listened to this crying in the bathtub with a glass of wine….girl let’s not lol…. it’s almost strange how much i can relate to the thoughts another person brought to paper. the comfort this album brings me is otherworldly, i feel so understood by mac’s words and it’s my go-to “wallow in self-pity for a bit then come out stronger than before” album. then again, i feel a little sting when any of mac’s songs come on shuffle. a friend of mine said she cannot listen to artists who have passed because it feels too strange and most of the time i agree but this time, it’s so so different. this album would have been mac’s salvation, i can feel it. everything would have been a bit brighter and lighter for him after this, it would have had to be. i feel like i would do him a disservice if i did not listen to this album, so i will cherish this final gift from him as his legacy and my comfort. i miss him incredibly and am all the more thankful he shared his heart with us.

album favs: circles, good news, surf

tiny meat gang - broke bitch (single) MAN I TELL THAT BROKE BITCH IF YOU WANNA GET IN TUNE BETTER CHANGE YOUR WHOLE PITCH LIKE WOAH !!!!!!!!!! did that give you whiplash? hehe funny to say this about a song called broke bitch by a duo called tiny meat gang but this song actually means a lot to me! it came out shortly before their show in berlin and i almost exclusively listened to it on my 7+ hours train ride from one side of the country to the other to see my meat boys. this played out of the fat ass speakers at the venue when they stepped on the stage and i will never forget meeting them :’) also the song fucking slaps obviously

february

loona - [#] (mini album) ah yes, the most controversial loona release to date! i’m not gonna lie and say this sounded anything like i expected it to. but also, i have come to terms with the fact that loona release noise music now and personally i am here for it. why not did not have the endless energy of hi high or otherworldly vibe of butterfly, but it’s a hype song and i am always there for hype. i also have to say the b-sides were not as strong for me as on previous releases but i think i have to come to peace with the fact that loona will never top their debut mini for me. though if i can wish for one thing…… let loona have title tracks with a chorus in 2021? pls? crumbs?

album favs: so what, oh (yes i am)

tame impala - the slow rush (album) *lights cigarette* i’m listening to pretty underground music….i don’t think you’ve heard of this band….they are called tame impala *intro of the less i know the better starts playing* yes i am a basic white bitch and listen to like 3 alternative bands but damn i listen to them religiously. like any other basic bitch on this planet i found out about tame impala through the less i know the better and checked out their music. i wasn’t too much into this album as i was into currents but towards the end of the year, i was in a moody alternative music slump that took me back to this album and i like it a lot more now! most importantly, tame impala fulfills my primitive urge to listen to songs that exceed the 4 minute mark. something clicks in my brain when i see a song that is like 6:34 and chances that it ends up as one of my faves on a album are high. i enjoy tiktok like everyone else but this trend of 2:50 long songs needs to be stopped immediately.

album favs: borderline, lost in yesterday, it might be time, is it true, posthumous forgiveness

honorary mentions: onlyoneof - dOra maar, everglow - dundun

march

nct 127 - neo zone (album) ah, yes. the album that fundamentally changed me as a person <3 i’ve been listening to nct for a while, matter of fact i checked my top tracks 2019 playlist on spotify and cherry bomb was on there lol. i remember trying to get into them in 2018 when they released their regular-irregular album but the endless member & unit concept scared me off, so i only listened to a handful of songs without looking into them march 2020, the fateful month in which they released kick it and screencaps of jaehyun’s sexy ass tiddies in the kick it mv landed on my tumblr or twitter and i HAD to look up who this man is…...remember when i thought jaehyun was my ult for like, 2 weeks? me neither, johnny suh only in this house <3

anyway, i checked out this album and by god, is this pure kpop perfection. last time i listened to a god tier no skip album like this was … maybe the perfect red velvet? hype songs, well crafted ballads, love songs that make me wanna learn the lyrics, genuinely fun and interesting pop songs, this album has it all. somehow, the way this album is crafted greatly reminds me of brown eyed girls’ sound-g, it has the same vibe, concept and mix of genres to me, i’m not entirely sure how to explain. anyway, this album is one of my favorites of all time and even though i’ve obsessively listened to it (lastfm says 1.4k scrobbles as of today, december 7th…) i am still not tired of this. i recommend this to anyone who loves kpop tbh, you will have a good time with this!

other than being just a musically solid album, the emotional ties i have with this are …. isabel stop making albums your emotional support 2021 challenge. i’ve listened to this release all spring lockdown, this basically played at every waking hour for all of march and april. the promotion time of this era and lockdown are deeply intertwined for me and so i am always remembered of all the nct content i consumed during that time which inevitably cheered me up so much. this album really means a lot to me :’)

album favs: kick it, mad dog, love song, boom

honorary mentions: itzy - wannabe,

the weeknd - after hours (album) my dear melchanoly, was one of my favorite releases of 2018, so i had been desperate for a new release by abel and boy did he not disappoint. the perfect thotty, dirty emo 80s, making it clap while crying in the club album! this is a no skip from top to bottom and all i can say is that the grammys can go to hell <3 abel aoty! there is really not much i can say about this album, the flawless production, lyrics and sound speak for themself. my only criticism is that i feel overwhelmed by 14 songs, especially when some of them are really long. a few songs greatly overshadow the weaker tracks on the album for me but i still love this to death.

album favs: escape from LA, blinding lights, after hours, faith

dua lipa - future nostalgia (album) after the weeknd’s masterpiece of an 80s inspired pop album i was really looking forward to this. i greatly enjoyed the pre-releases, i played don’t start now and physical up and down, they are still some of my favorite songs released this year! when i first listened to the album i really liked it, songs like boys will be boys or pretty please sound like fillers to be but the rest is solid. yet a month after release you couldn’t catch me listening to this and i cannot even really tell you why. i think it was a combination of the following: 1) i greatly overplayed dsn and physical to the point where i didn’t want more of the pop 80s sound that the album has 2) there were other releases at the time that caught my attention and interest more like neo zone or after hours 3) dua herself….girl….she really gave it her all this year to make herself as unlikeable as possible. nationalist propaganda and the constant traveling during a fucking pandemic were really the kicker. i can barely stand seeing her on my instagram feed anymore, much less listen to her album. her having the nerve to go “we’re in a pandemic lol” when people asked about an animated music video …. if you don’t shut the hell up lmao … also, she takes the crown for the corniest album opener of all time. i nearly closed spotify when i heard future nostalgia (the song) lmao

album favs: don’t start now, physical, levitating, hallucinate

honorary mentions: megan thee stallion - savage

april

apink - dumhdurum (song)

listen, i’m not gonna sit here and pretend like this mini album interested me in the slightest but god, the title is such a banger.i’m so sick, eung eung and dumhdurum are a holy trilogy that i will defend until the end of time! i really hope apink stick to this mature, elegant concept, it suits them so well and goes well with their new sound. come back soon queens <3

rina sawayama - xs (song) i feel like i’m gonna catch some hands here … xs is an absolute banger, the guitar riffs and disruptive sounds really get me going every damn time! but the rest of the album … tell me why it doesn’t catch me?! i literally cannot explain. i need to take an hour, sit down and do nothing but listen to the album from top to bottom once again and see if my thoughts change but right now i only care about xs.

chungha - stay tonight (song) drama! vocals! dance break! choreography! this release served it all. i listened to this obsessively during the time of the release and it still holds up today. can we talk about the run chungha had with gotta go > snapping > stay tonight? lord have mercy.

honorary mentions: april - lalalilala, nct dream - ridin’

may

lady gaga - chromatica (album) the immense disappointment i have in this album is tough to put into words lol. any other artist might have gotten away with this release but gaga having the discography that she has, well … she doesn’t get away with it. this has underwhelming all over it. i enjoyed the pre-releases and my hope was high but the rest just doesn’t live up what i expected, i can’t even say why. it’s just underwhelming pop for someone of gaga’s calibre. i listened to this album during release week and then never again till december to write this list and i can see why.

album favs: rain on me, sour candy ft. blackpink, stupid love

baekhyun - delight (mini album) it’s confession time … this is a name i never would have expected on any of my music lists to end up. exo has always been one of those boy groups i casually listened to. i greatly enjoy their title tracks and a handful of side tracks, i have a few members that i keep an eye on more than others but that’s about it. baekhyun was never one of those members i had any interest in, matter of fact i always thought he was kinda vanilla and boring 😭 i didn’t even plan on listening to this release if it wasn’t for his association with superm and thus nct, so i gave it a shot and we have no choice but to stan. his voice is like butter and can cut sharp at the same time, his versatility is insane. i dived a bit more into baekhyun related content and he is so likeable, it’s almost ridiculous. this production is absolute god tier, not a single skip on this mini. late spring/early summer i had this weird urge to listen to songs with mellow voices but still a banger instrumental and i wholeheartedly blame this release. matter of fact, this album is so good, i had to buy a physical copy. Y’ALL. THIS IS A BIG DEAL. i haven’t bought a kpop album of anyone that’s not holy top 3 (brown eyed girls, loona, nct) in like … idk, 5 years?! baekhyun’s impact. i’m a fan now <3

album favs: candy, r u ridin’?, love again

ak aussenkontrolle - in meinem benz (song) this … is very unrelated to this entirely list but i had to put it on here. i miss my ex boss and our 3 hour drives to meetings in the south of the country where we would blast trashy german rap music </3

nct 127 - neo zone: the final round (repackage) *airhorns* REEEPACKAGE TIIIIIME!!! my first nct era that i experienced from start to finish! i remember watching nct 127’s beyond live with luna where these mfs performed punch and we finished the concert having no idea what this song sounded like. the structure is so unusual and the intro catches me off-guard every time just to hype me up beyond compare. not gonna lie, the fact that johnny has exactly one (1) line hurts but! it’s my favorite line of the entire song! possibly related to the fact that it’s his line but let’s ignore that ….

album favs: punch, make your day

kim woo seok - red moon (song) i’m not even gonna lie to you. i have not a single idea who this man is. you could put him right in front of me and i wouldn’t know … all i know is that he has a banger song. i saw him perform this on a music show that i watched for nct and i ended up loving the song … thanks for your service sir, whoever you are ...

june

stray kids - go live (album) 2020 was kind of the year of boy groups for me, i’m so sorry … stray kids promoted simultaneously with nct 127 so i ended up hearing their title track and holy hell, is that a song. god’s menu is hype from start to finish. it reminds me of good ol’ 2nd gen noise boy group song a lá b*g b*ng fantastic baby. just pure hype and fun noise. i am forever grateful to witness the birth of the line cooking like a chef, i’m a five star michelin. the title track impressed me so much that i ended up checking out the entire album which i rarely ever do with boy groups and what is even rarer is that i enjoyed the b sides lmao!!! it’s not an album that i would put on and just enjoy from start to finish but it has some really solid tracks! this release made me want to keep an eye on stray kids, they seem like a really fun bunch.

album favs: god’s menu, TA, airplane

seventeen - left & right (song) the boy group run continues … same thing with stray kids, seventeen promoted during punch era so i heard their song while watching some music station show for nct and i heard this and was sold. solid, fun pop with the catchiest pre-chorus in history and a banger chorus. i listened to the entire mini and can’t say it really caught my interest so this is a title track only release for me.

dishonorary mentions: twice - more & more (i hate this song so much lol)

honorary mentions: ryu sejeong - tiger eyes, monsta x - fantasia, chloe x halle - do it

july

irene & seulgi - monster (mini) this is a weird release because it’s good. the title track is fun enough, the b sides are dope. but my issue with this is that it’s nothing new. this sounds exactly like a red velvet release. i get that they didn’t want to a  joy, seulgi, irene, yeri release only and went for the sub-unit route instead, but why not be experimental and stray away from the usual sound of the group? also, whoever made monster and not naughty the title track deserves to be spat on. at least the choreography here is more interesting and “experimental” for kpop standards. also, why only a seulgi solo and no irene? i have no idea how reveluvs reacted to this release but this has rushed written all over it.

album favs: monster, naughty (i’m counting this to the mini idc), uncover

exo-sc - 1 billion views (mini) doing my part as a filthy casual exo listener. this release goes in the same category as baekhyun’s delight where i like the album so much that i HAD to get a physical copy. i don’t know what they put in the title track for it to be so diddly darn addictive but it clearly worked. the only bad thing about this release is how criminally mismanaged it was by sm, when i get you lee sooman ...

album favs: 1 billion views, on me, say it

baekhyun - garden in the air (song) i told you i’m a loyal baekhyun fan now <3 king releases and i listen, that’s just how it goes now! this is a cover of a boa song and i really love his version. there is not much to say except that it’s a really smooth song and his voice absolutely carries the track. i enjoyed this much more than i thought i would!

hyoyeon - dessert (song) YOU KNOW WHAT I DESERVE??? DESSERT!!!!!!! *insert tik tok challenge here* imagine if miryo featured on this instead of the ethnic hip girl … why can’t we have nice things. anyway, a banger!

johnny - sunny side up episode 1 set (spotify playlist, actual set) johnny being the skilled, talented, multi-faceted king that he is has been dj-ing since before debut (not me acting like i was around at that time lmao) and thus he decided to bless our quarantined, lockdowned asses with an online dj set! that was the most turned up sunday morning i ever had in my entire life. this set kicked off an edm/house/techno affinity that i had for the following couple of weeks. this set is an absolute banger, i would go insane to this in the club. he has an amazing ear for transitions and drops and i still just put on this set on the regular when i have cleaning to do or so. he could fill the void that rona and thus no clubbing in 2020 left in my heart and i’m so happy he decided to share this with us <3 now … john … sunny side up episode 2 pspspspspsps

honorary mentions: gfriend - apple, jessi - nunu nana

august

cardi b ft. megan thee stallion - wap (song) late summer 2021. we are vaccinated, icu beds are free, barely any new cases, clubs are open, this song plays and i can finally make it fucking clap.

troye sivan - in a dream (mini album) a cute mini album! nothing life-changing or as exciting as previous releases but easy (haha!) to enjoy. i really, really enjoy easy, can always count on troye for a dreamy sound.

album favs: easy

honorary mentions: itzy - not shy

september

wonho - love synonym pt. 1: right for me (mini album) honestly? i know like, 3 monsta x songs. i never bothered to get into them and maybe i never will, but it was difficult to ignore the whole wonho & monsta x mess that went on. i have absolutely no memory of why i decided to check out this release, i guess i was curious what he was going to do and … i was positively surprised lol. open mind is the exact time of song i had been so desperate all summer (remember mellow vocals with banger instrumentals? yeah) and uhm … can’t ignore the obvious … mr wonho is fucking fine. sir, you just gained a fan … now, where is love synonym part 2?? huh?????

album favs: open mind, i just, losing you

joji - nectar (album) this one is on tiktok. i heard gimme love in a bunch of tiktoks and had to look up the song and here we are. what an album! it came right as seasonal depression started to hit and accompanied me for a good chunk of autumn. at this point one has to ask if joji can ever really miss? the entire album is a no skip, it’s almost difficult to narrow down my favorites if my favorites weren’t so damn god tier!!!

album favs: gimme love, ew, tick tock, pretty boy, your man

super m - tiger inside / 100 / drip (songs) okay, listen. technically tiger inside & 100 were already released in august. instead of those three songs i was gonna write about the entire album until i realized i really don’t give a fuck about it 😭 i really only care about those three songs. and YES, i unironically like 100. is it a good song? no. but neither is jopping and that fucking bangs. i don’t turn to superm for life-changing, profound music, i turn to them for a good time LOL and that’s what they deliver every time! that being said, taeyong’s VROOM VROOM, UHMM UHMM, GRRRAHHHH verse is life-changing and profound! speak your truth king! also i wish drip was a b side for nct 127 that song is so damn sexy

taemin - never gonna dance again act 1 (album) this isn’t kpop, this is taemin pop. taemin never misses and the fact that hw*s* won dance performance over taemin is a literal hate crime. i will never forget the industry for this daylight robbery … anyway, nice album!!!!

album favs: criminal, black rose, waiting for

stray kids - in life (repackage) *airhorns* REPACKAGE TIIIIME 2.0!!!! i was on the edge of my seat waiting what stray kids were going to deliver after i greatly enjoyed god’s menu. i was still not over listening god’s menu when the repackage came out so i didn’t listen to it right away and now i greatly regret the few days i could have listened to back door earlier </3

album favs: back door, any

jackson wang - pretty please (song) i’m not gonna pretend like i ever listened to a song by jackson ever before. he is short king from got7 in my head and that’s all! i don’t even remember why i listened to this song but all i know is that it slaps severely. i love the wong kar wai inspired music video and the choreography is fun too! i’m gonna check out more of his music <3

honorary mentions: fromis9 - feel good, knk - ride

october

blackpink - the album (album, duh) i don’t even know what to say about this … this might be the weirdest release on the list for me. there are song i absolutely fucking hate (ice cream …) and songs i get my life to (pretty savage) on here and the discrepancy just gives me massive whiplash. i would never put this album on and listen to the whole body of work, i just cannot with the brain damage it gives me. i am still stuck in 2016, begging for bp to release music like whistle/boombayah/stay/playing with fire but i think i need to give up on that wishful thinking … i am just grateful we a got a title track with actual lyrics in the chrous for once.

album favs: pretty savage, lovesick girls

nct - nct 2020 resonance pt. 1 (album) this era was … a ride. nct 2020 happening was near inevitable but with covid it got pushed back so far, i started to believe it wasn’t even going to happen. i was semi-terrified of what was going to happen during a comeback with 21 (now 23!!) member group since i only experienced nct 127 comebacks so far and uhh … a LOT happened lmfao but let’s keep this about the album … i had no idea what was going to hit me. johnny having effectively 3 lines in nct 2018 did not give me much hope and after he got denoted to no line treatment in punch again, i was ready to not even have any expectation but this release changed everything. make no mistake that most of my favorite songs are units with johnny, we knew that was gonna happen lmaooo they dropped the teaser video for misfit and i thought i had my favorite song in the bag and then faded in my last song happened. y’all. JOHNNY SINGS? LIKE? ACTUALLY SINGS? DOESN’T GET FORCED TO RAP OR TALK-SING? MY MAN’S VOCALS??? OH MY GAAAAHD! this song is dramatic, theatrical, emo, it serves vocals and rap, it has catchy english and korean lyrics, this is THE song, the ULTIMATE song. i love this song so much, i want to belt it on top of my lungs in the pouring rain. apart from fimls, i also loveeee misfit, that was to be expected after i was going completely insane over the track video. johnny has like 3 lines but again they are iconic (WARNIN’! NCT WE MOBBIN’!) and i just enjoy the track too much to be upset over that. nectar. holy fuck. nectar!!!! wayv never disappoints with their thotty songs, they now have an absolute god tier hoe-ly song trinity with love talk > bad alive > nectar. the first chorus and hendery’s first verse (CHOP CHOP CHOP!) get me every time, this song is so insanely good i am severely upset i cannot sing along to it :( music, dance has nct 127 written all over it in bold letters, it’s so inherently 127’s sound!!!! i love this song so much, it’s so fun, upset and has massive dance-ability, i wish we had gotten a stage for it but i guess you can’t have everything in life </3 make a wish……………………………..the cursed unit. i don’t want to say anything about this except that, unfortunately, the song is fun and i enjoy it. the end. overall, this album is so insanely solid. i know i talk about my favorites A LOT but i genuinely do not dislike a single song on here, this is an absolute no skip album! that’s it. see you for resonance part 2!!!!!

album favs: FADED IN MY LAST SONG !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!, misfit, nectar, music dance, make a wish

loona - 12:00 (mini album) controversial loona release 2.0! i don’t know what it is, but somehow they managed to lace the words di da dam di dam di dam dam dam dam di dam (yeah) with pure crack. i fucking love why not, i would even go as far to say it’s my 2nd favorite title track. that is right, i think it’s better than butterfly (btw: hi high > why not > butterfly > so what). so much was strange this comeback, from the inexplicable concept + teasers, the outfits, the styling (yves….i mourn your hot girl era) but the title track is just SO good, SO fun, SO catchy that i am willing to ignore it all. i also enjoy the b sides much more than on #, they are much more memorable to me. and now … HASEUL RETURN…………….i purely live to see the next loona comeback at this point

album favs: why not, voice, universe

twice - i can’t stop me (song) thank fuck twice released a good song this year. if more & more had been the only 2020 release, that would have been the real tragedy. not gonna lie, i still haven’t listened to the full album, it just keeps slipping my mind. but! i’m going to! until then i’m gonna bop to i can’t stop me.

ariana grande - positions (album) the way this album has people upset is so funny. i am a huge dangerous woman fan myself, it’s my fave ariana album to date but she has said repeatedly that this is not the sound she is striving for. now she has her coin and can do whatever she wants in music and if that is r’n’b then fuck! we have to live with it! lmao! i can live with the sex theme of the album because it’s delivered in a fun way? but it’s getting a bit old...if the next album is about riding dick only too idk how much i would enjoy that. i would probably always come back to ari because i like her voice so much but girl, there are other topics to sing about, i promise! anyway! i like this album, it’s one of those where i can hit shuffle and enjoy it in the background while doing other stuff.

album favs: positions, 34 + 35, love language, my hair, pov

tiny meat gang - sofia (song) ayyy, it’s my meat boys :’) ending the year the same way they started it, with a banger! i absolutely love the guitar instrumental, the melancholic love song type sound paired with the theme of singing about loving a robot … yup, that’s creativity and talent right here! this makes me so freaking desperate for a new ep and i genuinely have no idea how far or close we are to one but!!! i am always waiting!!!

noel - push (ep) this is something i absolutely did not expect. noel (of tiny meat gang!) released his first ep ever and i was absolutely wowed. noel has it all, the voice, the talent, the creativity and all it took him was the confidence to finally put something out and i’m so happy he did. he gets real personal on bus back, more than ever before and i always get a bit emo listening to this track </3 this man is gonna go places and i’m so happy to witness his journey.

album favs: crow, head sunk, bus back

honorary mentions: sam smith - diamonds

november

taemin - never gonna dance again act 2 (album) i’m gonna say it. idea is better than criminal. the chorus drop???? when he goes MY AH AH  MY AH AH MY AH MY IDEA MY MY IDEAAAAAA A-A-A A-A-A???? bitch … tell me you can sit still, i won’t believe you. i like part 2’s title track more, but part 1’s b sides are more interesting to me. either way, taemin delivered as expected!!

album favs: idea, impressionable, exclusive

nct - nct 2020 resonance pt. 2 (album) part two, baby! we made it! part 2 had more mellow, ballad-y songs with my everything, i.o.u. and all about you, overall less drama than part 1 but i still enjoyed it. work it is one of those controversial songs where you despise it with your entire being or you defend this top tier noise till the end and i am absolutely the latter. the agony of not being able to listen to it and seeing the timeline so divided nearly killed me, but i have concluded that people who hate work it have never felt joy in their life <3 honestly my opinion cannot be counted because i eat up anything johnny participates in … biased ass… what i’m not gonna talk about is resonance (the song), this absolute mess of a “remix”. the audacity sm had to release this as a single is insane. anyway!! this era was a rollercoaster ride. all the interactions truly made me interested in members of other units more. hendery (the rise and fall …), yangyang my beautiful son, jeno aka blue hair guy, chenle the chaos kid and xiaojun after he made make a wish his bitch in particular! all the interactions between the units were so fun to witness and it was fun while it lasted but i am … so glad it’s over lol. i miss nct 127, i miss some peace, i hope the boys get to rest for a bit and so does my bank account.

album favs: work it, 90s love, i.o.u., raise the roof

miley cyrus - plastic hearts (album) not in a thousand years would i have expected a miley release to be on here. this girl does everything to be absolutely unlikeable in my eyes but after severely banging out to her heart of glass cover, i was really excited for this and it did not disappoint. what is disappointing is that it took her so long to find a sound that fits her like a glove. i believe many people miss out on this release after her previous history and i nearly would have done the same. this alt/rock influenced pop does her voice so many favors and i really hope she sticks to this direction, i love this album greatly!!

album favs: heart of glass, midnight sky, night crawling ft. billy joel, wtf do i know

kai - kai (mini album) just. imagine debuting with an album like that. lol. what a god tier big dick move. we all knew whatever this release was gonna be, above all it was going to be sexy and boy were we RIGHT!!!! mmmh is exactly as thotty as i needed it to be and the b sides give me everything from r’n’b to trap. i love this release and i love that it’s only the beginning of kai! like!! he is only gonna gain even more experience and become even more powerful!! what the fuck!!!!!

album favs: mmmh, ride or die, hello stranger, nothing on me

honorary mentions. gfriend - mago

december

nothing? wtf?? 😭 no interesting release happened,,,,half the time i listened to christmas songs anyway lol

pre 2020 releases i only found this year

mgmt - little dark age (album, 2018) & oracular spectactular (album, 2007) another tiktok serve. i found little dark age through a tiktok trend and ended up really liking mgmt. they fit perfectly into my autumn/winter moody alt/rock mood that i had going on and i’m happy they have so much more music that i can check out!

artist favs: little dark age, electric feel, time to pretend

tame impala - currents (album, 2015) everyone’s favorite basic alt bitch album! i enjoyed this more than the slow rush for a good chunk of time, it also fit right into my alt rock autumn mood. i really love this album, like previously mentioned it has my favorite long ass tracks on there but also a good amount of short or medium long tracks. i’m still busy enjoying currents and the slow rush but i can’t wait till i finally take the leap to dive into their other releases because i’m loving everything i’ve heard so far.

album favs: the less i know the better, let it happen, new person same old mistakes

joji - ballads 1 (2018) after liking nectar so much, checking joji out was a given and i just love this album. only when i listened to this i realized i heard slowly dancing in the dark a few times on tiktok lmao that cursed app man … i would say i love nectar a bit more but this is still a fantastic album!!

album favs: slowly dancing in the dark, attention, test drive, yeah right

jus2 - focus (mini album, 2019) in my “mellow moody bangers” phase i was scouring playlists for more songs and i think i found focus on me first which fitted right into the niche i was looking to fill and i ended up enjoy this whole release! only later i realized this is a sub-unit from got7 lmao how come i enjoy solo or unit releases by got7 members but their group discography never interested me? anyway, very sexy ep!

album favs: drunk on you, focus on me, love talk

knk - sunset (song, 2019) part of my mellow bangers playlist. very sexy, i can imagine this as a runway song! i have no idea who knk are but given the fact i enjoyed two of their songs so far maybe i should look into them lol

baekhyun - city lights (mini album, 2019) i am repenting for my sins of missing out on baekhyun releases by consuming his music at an exorbitant rate. un village is one hell of a title track that i didn’t appreciate before, but i feel like in 2020 my music interests started to vary and i love the groovy r’n’b and string sound of this song so much. i also love stay up to death, the vocals baekhyun serves here are unreal. his BABY WE CAN STAY UP!!!!!!! gets me every single time!!!! what a mini!

album favs: un village, stay up

mac miller - swimming (album, 2018) i’ve listened to this album before 2020 but i had the urge to put this on here. this is going to sound so corny, but if i had to pick one song to be my life’s title track, it would be ladders. the hope this song gives me is unreal, it feels like a light at the end of the tunnel. this album is so fantastic, i love the upbeat instrumentals paired with sometimes gloomy lyrics are so incredible, mac was truly one of the greatest artists of our time. this album is  so outstanding and i miss him every day.

album favs: ladders, jet fuel, 2009, self care, perfecto

doja cat - hot pink (album, 2019) i can never decide if i like doja or not but the album slaps lol that’s it come on tiktok queen

album favs: say so, juicy, like that, streets

my fav 2020 playlists

slapping mellow

neo culture technology

malcolm

why go to therapy when this playlist exists?

top songs 2020

(by spotify)

[blackfemmecharacterdependency]

Share a Lair 07 || Share a Char

Henry shook his head slowly, his arms folded and hair pulled into a small little curly tail. Jasper licked his lips, nodded in appreciation, and took a sip of water. Charlotte approached them and asked, “What are you two doing?”

Henry said, “Training,” but Jasper said, “Looking at Max,” which Charlotte now saw was the more honest answer, and she looked and understood why. He had on a VR helmet and was apparently either training or playing a very intense fighting game. Either way, the drool about to drop from Jasper’s mouth - relatable. Charlotte blinked out of it though. “Umm, are you going to train today?”

“Just got finished running around the track,” Henry said. “Waiting on Max to finish up here.”

“I thought you two had very different training schedules as to not overlap,” she said.

“Char. Shh! What if you distract him?” Jasper said. “We want him to be able to get all of the training he needs to keep the world safe!” Then, after a little while, more to himself, he said softly, “Look at that… bulge…”

“GROSS!” Char practically squealed. Max turned in that direction at the sound of her voice and lifted his helmet. He checked his watch and realized that he had run over his time. He deactivated the training helmet, summoned his bag, water and towel to himself and began to walk in their direction.

“You’re lucky,” Jasper said to her.

“For what?” She asked.

Henry laughed, “That bulge!”

She cringed and shook her head and hands, “I have nothing to do with that!” She accidentally glanced at it, though, thanks to Jasper mentioning it in the first place! “Stop pointing it out!” Her voice was high pitched and anxious.

Max practically vacuumed a jug of water into his mouth, but paused to say, “Didn’t mean to go over. There’s a button on the post for when that happens, or you can just get Charlotte to yelp. That worked too.” Jasper looked at the post in front of him and pressed the button.

“Alert. You have succeeded your training time. Please be courteous and vacate the training field.” Max narrowed his eyes at him.

“I wanted to see how it worked,” Jasper explained.

Max wiped his face and hung the towel around his neck, “Hello, Miss Page.” He was twinkling with perspiration and breathing kind of hard, but was… still everything and that smile always tripped her up.

“Are we… doing last names, now, Mr. Thunderman? No. I hate it. That didn’t feel right.” They started walking away while Jasper watched and Henry went onto the training field.

“Jasper! Come on, Dude. He’s not THAT good looking.”

“First off, he definitely IS. Second off, where is Charlotte going? I thought she was helping with training.”

“I’m coming back!” she called over her shoulder and shook her head. “Nosy..” Max smiled. Charlotte huffed and said, “Okay, SO - I am here, as, I guess a liaison.”

“What’s Henry’s problem now?” He asked.

“He’s really feeling like you treat him like an outsider, in what is supposed to feel like his own home. He’s ready to file a request for a new placement.” Charlotte said. Max furrowed his eyebrows, scoffed, and shrugged his shoulders. “Yeah, yeah. I know. You don’t like Henry. You don’t care about him.”

“It’s not even that. I don’t dislike him and, well, yeah, I don’t care about him. Honestly, I feel like I don’t do anything to make Henry uncomfortable.”

“The snide comments? The nasty looks? The house rules reminders?”

Max rolled his eyes, “He should man up.”

“Maybe. Or maybe you could give him a little break?” She rubbed his arm and for that reason, he began to consider it. He didn’t feel like he gave Henry a hard time, but maybe he could put just a little more effort into it. Charlotte was tracing his muscles and got a little bit lost in the definition of them. He watched her eyes follow the tracks her fingers made and stopped walking. She stopped too and looked at him. He was… amused. She realized that she was being kind of touchy.

“Should I flex them for you?” He teased.

“Don’t be silly,” she said, laughing and folded her arms, then thought for a moment and said, “I mean, go ahead, if you want, but that’s not important.What’s important is…”

He smiled and flexed his arms, “I’m getting more solid!” he practically cheered. She rubbed on his arm, squeezed the bicep, nodded in agreement. He was slightly bigger than he had been when they moved in, but only someone who was paying extremely close attention might notice that. She pulled her hand back and snapped out of it, “Focus, Charlotte!”

“It is perfectly fine if you focus on these. This is my DREAM, having a really hot girl openly fawn over my muscles. It’s what I deserve.”

Back on task, and ignoring all of what he said, she resumed her concerns, with her hands clasped together to keep from touching him again, “If he files for a new placement, it’ll be paperwork, interviews, and all of that, and a bunch of bull… and if they grant it to him, who knows where we’ll wind up next…”

“We,” he said, dropping his flexed arms to his sides and slumping his shoulders, like he had just realized that Charlotte would definitely be part of an exit made by Henry. She was one third of the Henry Hart package. “Ugh. Fine. What do you want me to do?”

“Well, I was thinking that we could start with a little morale booster. He wanted to do the video game tournament, but I told him that you’ve already got the living room for that… What if you let our friends come too, and hang out with your friends for a night?”

Max looked very not pleased with that idea. She thought out loud, “Of course, I’ll have less than a week to Ray and Schwoz proof the house, but I’ve done more in less time, before.”

“If either of them gets out of line, I will freeze the entire room, I swear to God.”

She smiled and threw her arms around his neck, “Thank you! Henry’s gonna feel a lot better knowing that you’re gonna do this for him.”

His hands held her waist and he looked down at her, “Not doing it for him.” They stared at each other for a while. Charlotte felt… like she was in some type of trance. She was tempted to kiss him again, and that was what broke it!

She smiled and removed his hands and said, “Well, thank you anyway, I mean. Thank you… Just thank you, please. Not please. JUST thank you. Okay, bye.” She wrung her hands and practically ran back to the training field.

.

Ray and Schwoz arrived earlier than any of Max’s friends. Charlotte told them to come through the tower entrance, but Ray decided that to establish dominance, he needed to barge in through the front door. So, he tried it and got zapped. Max first heard “Alert, Dumbest Hero Alive and his unfortunate science slave approaching,” from his monitor watch. His parents had a big one in their home. He had a small one in his chambers and he connected a system to the front entrance, but instead of a monitor, he simply programmed it to his watch. He was about to disarm the alarms when he heard the zapping noise and Ray scream. He laughed and disarmed them before the poor little science guy got hurt.

Max opened the door and Schwoz looked absolutely terrified, but also intrigued. What might happen next? Max said, “So, you guys must be Henry’s friends. Charlotte said you’d be coming in through the tower, and also, you’re like 2 hours early. This is how you wound up electrocuted.”

“What type of security system is this?’ Schwoz asked curiously.

“Kidding me? So that you can hack into it? No. You’ll have to work hard like Charlotte did,” Max said, with a smile as he texted her to let her know that they were here, in case she didn’t already. He resumed setting up the living room to accommodate everyone.

“Is… is that a pit couch?” Ray asked.

“Yeah. Had it transported it from my T Force office for tonight. Trying to organize our sectionals around it. There’s gonna be quite a few people here tonight. Exceeding my 9 person maximum for comfort, but… morale.”

“This is something that Charlotte forced on you, isn’t it?” Ray asked.

“Charlotte asked me to allow Henry’s friends to partake tonight.”

“She’s the worst,” Ray said, shaking his head. Max paused and looked at him with the most disdainful expression that he could muster. Ray stared back at him, confused, then glanced at Schwoz to see if he saw it too. Schwoz was inspecting different things in the room, though. Trying to determine what was simply furniture and what served as one of Max’s things.

“You realize that she’s the only reason that you’re here tonight, right?” Max asked.

Ray scoffed, “I was comin’ whether or not you wanted me to. I’m indestructible. Nothing scares me. Least of all some kid… with… hair that I have to admit is very nice.”

Max smiled, “Nothing scares you. Cool. Tonight’s not about fear. It’s about respecting others. Umm… Everybody is gonna respect Charlotte tonight. That’s a house rule. Non-negotiable.”

“You have a house rule that everyone has to respect everyone on the night of a video game tournament?” Schwoz asked, from near Max’s hammock.

“I have an everybody respect Charlotte house rule on every night.”

Ray laughed, “What is she like… your girlfriend or something?”

“Just. Heed the rule. Thanks,” Max said. He didn’t add for your own benefit. He wasn’t going to explain himself to this man, especially after saying something mean about his… friend… less than 10 minutes of being here.

She came into the living room and shook her head, “Sorry. Max. Hope they haven’t been bothering you.” Then, to the two of them, “Umm, why aren’t you in the tower? We’re pregaming up there. Come on. Max has a lot to do here.”

“He’s just rearranging furniture!” Ray pouted and she took him by the elbow and waved Schwoz along too.

Schwoz cheered to Max, “See you soon!” Then, whenever he followed Charlotte, he said, “Good job, Charlotte. He’s very skilled with technology.”

“What do you mean, ‘good job’?” she asked. Max smirked. He knew what he meant. He always knew what they meant. Every single friend that she had now had tried to let her in on the facts. She was still in denial obviously, and he wouldn’t make it difficult for her. But… That was his lady. He knew it. They knew it. She was the only person who didn’t know it yet. He’d had a similar sort of ignorance whenever he first fell into feelings with his first serious girlfriend. Technically, no… they weren’t “together.” Nobody had officially made any declaration or asked the other for a title or anything like that, but… he knew how he felt and he was pretty sure she was somewhere along the same lines. It was nice to not have to really acknowledge it, though. It made it easy to avoid the deeper topics and to bond through interests and stuff while she figured out her emotions on her own. No pressure. As for him… He was taken and he knew that, and he wasn’t necessarily patient, but smart enough to know that rushing someone as reserved as she was would be a terrible route to winning her over.

.

Max had Oyster, Gideon, Wolfgang, someone named Angus, who Charlotte hadn’t met before, Billy and Nora (who she had only sort of met), and he was unsure if girlfriends were going to be stopping by sporadically. Henry had his usual - Jasper, Ray, Schwoz, and Char, but said that Piper might stop by. Max got in front of everyone and said, “Okay, listen up! This tournament goes on for the entire weekend. You all know those deets, I’m sure. What you will have to understand about this gaming site - Henry and I live here, but our chambers are off limits, unless permission is given. I will be giving none, so bathrooms this weekend are,” he pointed, “The one in the laundry room, or if Henry lets you into the tower.” Henry scoffed. But… his guests were welcome to go to his bathroom, though.

“Charlotte has been gracious and kind enough to make sure that there are little hygiene favors for everyone and set us up a nacho bar.”

“Charlotte’s the best!” Oyster roared in excitement.

“Awww,” she said with her hand over her heart. Ray rolled his eyes and laughed a little. Max heard it and turned very suddenly to glare at him.

“I cannot stress this enough - Charlotte gets respect in this house. I expect everyone to respect her, whether or not I’m there to see it.”

“What kind of a MONSTER would disrespect Charlotte?” Gideon wondered. She crossed both hands over her chest and let out a little squeal.

Ray asked, “Is this one of your pranks that I hear tell of?”

“I… don’t play about that. Charlotte is a valued member of this house’s wellbeing. She works hard and takes care of a lot. We respect her here, and you will too. Invitations will be rescinded if I catch on to any disrespect.”

She stood up and walked over to him, with her finger raised, “If I might… Say something?”

“Of course.”

“Okay… He’s not talking about if we’re playing against each other. That’s understandable trash talk and I dish it out, too. He’s talking… rolling your eyes and laughing if someone pays me a compliment when you can just shut your old head ass up.”

“WAIT! Does SHE get to talk to us like that?” Ray asked.

Max said, “I think she was just giving an example,” very innocently, pretending not to realize that was directed, rightfully at Ray.

Ray pouted and said, “Can we get on with the games?”

“Last few rules and concerns,” Max said, then saw two bunnies walking to the couch and made a gesture at them to Charlotte, then mouthed Thank You when she went to collect Colosso and Balfour. “Um, last few things - My 19 year old brother and 17 year old sister are here. Neither of them can have alcohol, because this is mixed company. If you have given them alcohol in the past. Don’t try that this weekend. Oyster… no matter WHAT Nora says, give her zero alcohol.” Oyster nodded his head. “You know what… if Nora asks you for anything, check with me, to see if it’s okay.”

“COME ON!” Nora cried out.

Henry noticed that Charlotte had vanished, but as Max was wrapping up, she came out of his restricted area. Oh. So he WAS allowing access, just to her. She came to sit in between Jasper and Schwoz and Henry asked, “Hey, where did you go?”

“The rabbits were loose,” she said.

“What… rabbits?” He asked. There were rabbits in this house??? Max was done talking, so his friends rushed to the nacho bar while Nora and Billy made sure they staked their claim on the pit couch and Charlotte got up to talk to Max. Henry let out a frustrated groan and threw his head back. “She acts like I don’t even exist anymore,” he said, shaking his head.

“Hey. So… Balfour really wanted to watch the game tournament. He was like crying. So, I told him that I’d ask you about some way that could possibly happen?”

Max folded his arms and said, “I guess we could link a signal into Penelope and let her put it on her projector in real time? They can’t come up here, though. They’ll start trouble.”

“I really wanted Penelope here with me tonight. What if ONLY Balfour comes up and…”

“No. He’s the worse one.” Max said, chuckling. “Char, these are supervillains. They aren’t innocent bystanders who became bunnies.”

“He loved video games and he can’t play anymore. He just wants to watch. I believe him,” she said, playing with his pocket. Henry watched them.

Max sighed and pointed at her nose, “Anything that goes wrong as a result of him being up here will be on you.”

“I accept,” she said and bit at his finger, “Get that out of my face!” She laughed. He moved it around her face until she swatted it away and took hold of his hand, playing with his fingers. “I’ll go get him.” Max watched her disappear through his chamber door again and Henry narrowed his eyes at the entire thing. Whenever Charlotte returned carrying a white bunny with glasses, he was confused. She sat him next to Penelope as she took her seat again.

.

Charlotte began the night cozied with her friends, but wound up by Max, with the bunnies and Billy… closer to where Max’s friends were. Billy and Max were the only ones currently awake. Oyster was in a nacho eating food coma. Angus and Gideon were resting until their next matches, and Gideon had already been eliminated. Ray and Nora had somehow began a rivalry and were trash talking as they played against each other. Henry and Jasper were watching in entertainment that this was the second teenaged girl that he couldn’t beat in a video game. Henry was going to point this out to Char, but whenever he looked over, she was talking to Max again. Their faces were close together and he was looking all soft at her like he often did. She looked exhausted. “Hey, Char!” Henry called. She jumped. Max frowned as she pulled her face away from him to turn to Henry. “This girl’s giving your old records quite a run!”

“I never even played this game,” Charlotte said, shaking her head.

“FINISH HIM!” Jasper yelled and then moments later Nora jumped up and got into Ray’s face, “That’s what I’m talking about, MAGGOTCHESTER!” A few of the sleeping ones stirred, but remained sleeping. They either had ear muffs or plugs, for such scenarios.

Charlotte began talking to Max while Nora was screaming, so that whenever she stopped everyone heard her say, “So, I’m just gonna be in your bed…” Her eyes grew wide and she looked around the room. Billy, Nora, Henry, Jasper and Ray all turned and looked right back at her. “Not like that!” She said and shook her head.

“Where’s Balfour?” Max wondered. She gasped and began to frantically look around.

“Where’s Schwoz?” Ray wondered. Schwoz came from the bathroom, holding Balfour.

“Schwoz! What were you doing with him?” Charlotte asked and took the bunny off of his hands.

“He needed to go to the bathroom and you hadn’t brought any of his papers out,” Schwoz explained.

Max collected him and told Charlotte, “I’ve got him. Go on and get some rest. I’ll bring him whenever I come down.”

“Okay. Thanks.” She wanted to give him a kiss on the cheek, but the others were already watching them kinda closely. He didn’t care about that obviously, because he gave her one and told her goodnight. She was all fluttery inside as she headed for his chambers.

She was asleep when he did retire for the evening. Billy and Nora came down to wash up and took their sleeping bags to the landing mat. Max climbed into bed and figured he could stay on one side with Charlotte on the other. She definitely woke up wrapped completely around him from behind.

Charlotte gasped and sat up. Of course, he needed to sleep in his own bed tonight. He had two siblings staying over and friends sprawled all over the couch. She went into the bathroom to wash up and get ready for today, then crept out to get started on at least ordering breakfast to be delivered.

Jasper and Henry had retired to the tower, while Ray and Schwoz camped out in the van. Angus was the only person awake whenever Char surfaced. “Hi… Angus, right?”

“Right,” he said, with a smile. He was doing some stretches.

“I’m gonna order a bunch of breakfast stuff. I’m more familiar with Max and my friends’ stuff, but do you know about those guys?” She pointed to the sleeping men on the couch.

“Haven’t been around them a huge amount recently, but I’m almost certain that Oyster still will eat just about anything,” he laughed.

“Bless him. He’s such a sweetheart.” She began to make an online order and also to start on fruit prep, for juice and/or smoothies.

Henry came, groggily through the double doors, being pushed from behind by Jasper and yawning. Charlotte hoped that they had brushed their teeth. “I’ve got breakfast on the way and at least one of you needs a smoothie, doesn’t he?” She smiled at Henry.

“Is she speaking to me? Does Charlotte Page see Henry Hart standing here?” He asked, sarcastically. She looked confused as she threw in the ingredients for a wake up smoothie into the blender for him. “Oh, right… Max isn’t around. So, I’m visible. Cool!” She turned off the blender, rolled her eyes and poured his smoothie. “Wonder how much time I have before my nemesis appears and my best friend loses knowledge of my existence.”

Angus asked Jasper, “Is… this awkward for you, as well?”

“It is,” Jasper said.

“Wanna go for a walk with me?”

“No, but I surely don’t wanna stay here for this,” Jasper said and they both headed out of the front door.

“Got it out of your system?” Charlotte asked, handing Henry the smoothie.

“He’s not even that good looking,” he said and nodded once, “Now, it’s out of my system.”

“Okay. Now that it is, let me say this… Whenever you don’t want to have to hang out with me, you think Max is the perfect candidate to take up my time. Whenever you don’t want to listen to me, I have to talk to Max. Whenever you can’t help me out with something, Max does. But, the moment that you have a want or a need and I’m occupied with Max, then you feel a way. Henry, I don’t know how else to tell you this, but Max and I get each other. I know you and me have been friends a long time, but those parts that didn’t make sense, they never started to. That doesn’t mean that we aren’t friends anymore, or that I don’t care about you, hence the reason you are drinking a smoothie from my heart. Thank you for giving me the push that I needed to find another friend. Max was a great choice. You did this, and you did well. Now, appreciate and respect that.”

“It’s not just Max, Dude. I mean, he’s your… cool half or whatever…”

“Wow…”

“But, like… You’re not even hardly chilling with us at this thing. You’re hanging out with his friends and his siblings. You slept in his bed? And.. that didn’t sound like the first time.”

“Probably like the 4th time these past couple of weeks. Usually, he sleeps elsewhere, but his siblings took that, so my options were out here on this super couch with those strangers or in a bed that I’m welcome and comfortable in.”

“You are comfortable in my bed? Me, you and Jasp used to do this all the time.”

“Henry!” She said it snappier than she intended. “You started this year out wanting a little bit less of me, and that’s what you’ve gotten. I would’ve thought you’d be relieved to be able to escape me.” She didn’t want to bring up NYE, because it still hurt, but she had been less engaging with him since then, with both he and Jasper, quite frankly.

“Nobody wanted to escape you, Charlotte. One night, was all it was and I’m sorry we handled it the way that we did. But, we got karma, remember? We got deserted.”

“And I rescued you. Henry, maybe the reason that it’s hard for you to share your friend is because your friend has always been a major resource to you. And maybe the reason it hasn’t been as hard for me to branch out is because my friend hasn’t always been a major resource.”

“You think I… don’t deserve your friendship?”

“I didn’t say that. I think that our friendship has positively impacted your day to day a little more vigorously than mine.”

“So, really it’s you escaping me.”

She frowned and sighed. “This is me getting comfortable with another friend, Henry. I’m still here for you. You only feel like I’m not because I was giving you WAY too much energy before now. I’ve been really happy,” she said, with a guilty look in her eyes, “And I thought that you had been too. This… event is supposed to bring us together. That’s why I was talking to other friends. You can try it too. You and Max should be trying it, because you live together. You share this space, and your both my friend. I’m not… picking. I don’t have to, because I know that I enrich both your lives, so I don’t believe either of you are cutting me off.”

Max came into the room, strutting, shirtless, carrying a shirt in his hands and preparing to put it on. Charlotte was relieved to see him. She thought she’d be awkward after how she woke up, but this talk with Henry had just rocked her and fortunately, as unpredictable as he was, Max was a calming presence for her. “Morning, Max,” she said, with a smile. He threw the shirt on, noticed her eyes, looked at a moping Henry and moved closer to Charlotte to give her a hug.

“Good morning. You okay?” he asked softly. She nodded, with her head against his chest. “What about you, Henry? You alright?” Max asked. Henry shrugged his shoulders. He hated seeing them… like that. She keeps insisting that they’re friends, but they keep doing… this kind of stuff. The doorbell rang and Charlotte went to go answer it. Probably the breakfast. “How are your friends enjoying the tournament?”

“Pretty good. I think you and me are up against each other tonight.”

“That should be fun for me… embarrassing for you.”

“You can’t beat me in everything,” Henry declared.

Max laughed. “That’s absolutely false. Of course I can.”

[dragonrajafanfiction]

Norton & Constantine Pt 1

The following are excerpts translated from the Novel about Norton and Constantine. This was... a lot longer than I expected so I’m splitting it in two.

These only include areas where Norton (No. 13) and Constantine appear together. Other references are omitted.

Please enjoy!

------RONALD TANG’S DREAM----------

“Brother...”  Someone called softly in the darkness

It was really annoying! Who lost their kid?

“Bother.” The child called again.

Annoying, annoying, annoying! There is no ‘brother’ here!

“Brother... Then I’ll go.” The child whispered, his voice gradually growing silent.

Suddenly, he couldn’t bear that lonely, fading voice. It invoked the sight of a child’s back, slinking away like an abandoned hound.

“Okay, okay, okay! Which street and what house number do you live at? What’s the name of your unreliable brother? I’ll take you home!” He turned over and sat up.

A child dressed in bright white, like a camellia blooming in moonlight, sat on the floor in the sun, holding a writing case and making a long stroke.

“Hey, you’re not leaving? Are you kidding me?” He wanted to say, but he didn’t.

Instead, he did what came naturally. There was a plate of green grapes on the table. He picked a small bunch from it and handed it to the child across from him.

The child raised his head, his eyes flashed with panic, like an alert cub, “Brother, there are many people outside.”

Huh? He thought it was very quiet.

The next sentence also came naturally. “Maybe you will die? But, Constantine, don’t be afraid.”

“I’m not afraid. When I’m with my brother, I’m not afraid... but... why don’t you eat me? Eat me and you can break through any cage!” The child said seriously.

Eat you, he thought. Although you are very white and tender, it does not mean you are better than hamburgers. I just ate a hamburger for lunch and I’m not hungry.

“You are good food, but that would be too lonely. For thousands of years, only you and I were together.” He said, jokingly. “But death is really sad. It’s like being sealed in a black box, forever and ever. Pitch black, like reaching out in the dark and never touching anything.”

Looking at him, the boy’s clear pupils flashed in anticipation.  “The so-called destiny of the abandoned clan is to cross the wasteland, raise the battle flag again and return to our home. Death is not terrible, it is just a long sleep. Before you can swallow the world, it is better to sleep peacefully than to walk alone. We will still wake up.”

“Brother, if you raise the the battle flag and swallow the world, will you eat me?” 

Damn it! Is this a stage play of a drama between loving cannibals? These family ethics are really strange!

The child poured a glass of water from the pitcher, handed it to him, and he drank it.

“I’m leaving, brother, goodbye.” The child stood up.

He wanted to say that he was not his brother and you’ve got the wrong person, but he just casually said, “Goodbye, be careful. Don’t believe any humans.”

Again with the strange, bored lines.

The child went out and closed the door behind him. He listened to the child’s foot steps getting farther and farther away, until, finally, they completely disappeared.

Suddenly, he felt nervous. He thought he was getting faint. What would happen if such a young child got abducted because he let him go off on the street? He didn’t know how far he had to go to find his brother. He became restless, and when he finally couldn’t help it, he got up and ran to the door.

He opened the door, and the blazing light shone on his white clothes, not sun light but firelight. The city has been burning for days, charred human forms run crying in the fire. Thousands of arrows fall from the sky and a huge sign reading “Baidi” falls and turns over. It’s hell.

At the center of the city, there is a tall pillar. The child is hung on the top of the pillar, eyes closed, the flames of the city burning him.

It’s like a grand sacrifice.

It hurt so much, like the cut of a knife. This important person was lost because he made a mistake.

He suddenly remembered something and realized he was truly the brother of that child.

He called out his name. “Constantine!”

He sat up abruptly, opening his eyes in the afternoon sun, short of breath, covered in cold sweat all over. The noise of an elevated light rail passed him by.

He suddenly found the sound so pleasing to his ear, reminding him that everything in his dream was fake and that he was in an ordinary world

--------RONALD TANG ENTERS CASSELL----------

“Brother...”

No. 13 was taken aback. He was walking in a dark corridor, illuminated by the light of the phone screen. At this moment, he heard the faint sound of people talking in front of the class.

He hurriedly lowered his body and covered the phone screen with his palm, so that the corridor was completely dark. He moved a few silent steps so that no one could tell his location without an infrared night vision device. Only the hum of the fan remained in the corridor, repeating at a steady frequency.

“Did she get it wrong?” No. 13 thought.

He was proud to be a master in the bounty hunter’s line. He accepted all manner of strange cases and performed beautifully. He has never felt so strange as he did today. Since entering this campus, he has had auditory hallucinations. Every time he walked around in a quiet environment and listened to his footsteps, he would mistakenly think that someone was speaking in front of him. At first, he ignored it. He didn’t realize it was weird until he left the crystal clear shadow girl and the beer-drinking man. Because after he entered the tunnel leading to the “ice cellar”, the strange voice became clear. He was underground and except for the ventilation system, there was no gap for sound to penetrate.

No. 13 slowly straightened up, and stopped using his phone for light, turning it off. He touched the wall of the corridor with his waist and walked forward. 

“Brother....” This time the voice came from behind him, as if someone sighed nearby.

No. 13 drew out the saw-barrel shotgun, turned around and pointed it behind him. According to his heroic or rough character, he should have shot this person point-blank, regardless of whether he was a man or a ghost. But he was too nervous this time. God knows why, but he felt like this sound was very familiar. As familiar as when you lived in an airport as a child, listening to planes taking off and landing every day, and the sounds of jet engines put you to sleep.

He couldn’t remember where he heard this sound. It was like a bubble floating from the depths of his mind. it was very familiar and it had a dream-like, black sweetness, which made him a little drowsy.

“Who is it?” he asked.

No one answered but the hum of the exhaust fan.

No. 13 scratched the back of his head, regretting taking this assignment. He was hired by regular customers, who had taken care of his business many times over the years. No. 13 trusted these people very much, so he agreed without much thought. In the past, he took assignments like exploring a desert tomb or a sunken ship in the ice sea. Every place sounded more mysterious the this Cassell College, but this time things became more and more strange. He lost contact with the other people for no reason. At the beginning,  there was a series of strange encounters. Although his nerves were steady, and he still believed this college is just a gathering place for a group of board game lovers who love living out fantasies, he felt he had underestimated their IQ. Walking in here was like walking into a maze.

--------------RONALD TANG FALLS INTO THE ICE CELLAR AQUARIUM--------------

No. 13 slowly turned around and saw a pair of eyes he size of ping-pong balls staring at him curiously a few meters behind him. It was a very authentic great white shark.

Probably in order to prove to No. 13 that he is a young shark with great bite force, the great white shark opened its mouth, displaying thorny teeth.

No. 13 glanced desperately at his hand. This was the most unlucky day in his life. When he fell, his hand scraped against the gate and it was overflowing with a faint red color. Everyone who has watched the “Discovery Channel” program knows that sharks are crazy when they smell blood. As long as it smells blood it will pounce on a piece of wood and No 13 is good eating.

“Brother...” The young boy’s voice echoed around him.

“Please, don’t tell me it’s you calling me?” At the end of his life, No. 13 actually thought this world was so funny as to let a shark be calling him.

A strange expression suddenly appeared in the shark’s blood red eyes. This was the first time that No. 13 felt that he could see the expression in the eyes of a fish. The shark slowly closed its mouth, swinging its fins and tail but it was not advancing but silently retreating. As the distance between it and No. 13 lengthened, it turned around and dived into the water at high speed, plunging into an artificial rock cave. Immediately, a bloody red mist gushed from the rock reef cave and then a big dead fish was thrown out.

No. 13 didn’t understand what was going on. He could only read the shark’s eyes. It looked at him in fear and then slowly disappeared.

He didn’t quite understand what was going on. The shark seemed to be terribly afraid of him. and took the big fish’s nest and hid himself.

--- THE AWAKENING OF CONSTANTINE--

A great chill fell on everyone heart. They realized that they were prematurely optimistic. “Two echoes...” Someone whispered.

“A cavity...” Someone said.

The internal structure of the copper tank was clearly revealed. The inside of the copper tank is divided into two halves. In one half is the curled up skeleton of what appeared to be a human being. The other half is empty.

A disturbing crack is just above the cavity!

“Something... escaped from it!” Someone’s voice began to tremble.

“Why?” The principal asked in a low voice.

No. 13 wondered as well, why all these people were suddenly so quiet.

At this moment, he is laboratory assistant wearing a mask to prepare dissection equipment. His journey has been so smooth. After walking around the ‘ice cellar’ for a long time, he entered what appeared to to a laboratory. In this area, he saw a group of men taking a shower, in an lively discussion about a copper jar. In the heavy steam, no one could see each other’s faces, so No. 13 took off his clothes and stepped in to shower with them.

More than a dozen naked men walked about in the vapor and when they past him, a few even greeted him. 

After bathing, they took out sterile suits from sealed plastic bags and covered themselves head to toe. They were tightly protected, as if they were going to the virus laboratory or going to walk on the moon.

No. 13 realized that this was his perfect opportunity so he knocked out a guy about his height, took his ID card and pinned it to his chest, and put on his suit.

When he entered this sealed glass laboratory, he took off his mask to drink a glass of champagne. He was that casual. When someone gave him a cart full of dissecting equipment, he lightly examined it while people around him applauded. No one paid him any attention to him, entirely focused on the brass jar in the glass enclosure.

“Regardless, the autopsy should continue.” The principal raised his hand. “This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. I can’t wait any longer to obtain this important data.”

The researchers began to applaud again, and the principal’s calm and determination under the unexpected was always convincing.

“Is all the equipment ready?” The principal asked.

No. 13 hurried to raise his hand. He pushed a trolley made of synthetic materials on which the nano-material transparent scalpels, saws and scissors, as well as other unrecognizable tools were displayed.

“For safety’s sake, only the person responsible for the dissection enters, and the others are responsible for recording are to stand outside.” The principal turned to No. 13, with an expression of expectation, “Ready?”

No. 13 can only nod. He doesn’t know what a Dragon King is, but he is sure that the knowledge of anatomy of frogs he learned in high school biology class wasn’t enough for him. Fortunately, he stuffed his saw-barrel shotgun and a few soaked ammunition clips under the sterile suit. This game him a little more confidence.

In fact, he really wanted to turn around and walk away. It didn’t seem like he was strong enough to move the copper pot alone. with a glass wall on the outside and a quartz glass cavity inside, he could only see the indistinct shadow of the copper pot, which was not enough for him to accumulate enough materials to go back and claim the 5 million dollars.

The principal patted him on the shoulder, and the hatch leading to the low temperature laboratory inside slid open, and the white gas evaporated from the gushing liquid nitrogen. The principal put on his mask while No. 13 shivered.

He walked into the cryogenic chamber, and all he saw was white, with bright blue flickering lights all around. In the center was the oval quartz glass chamber with a huge copper tank and liquid nitrogen vapor under his feet.

For a moment, he had the illusion that he was standing on the endless snowy field and heard a low call from a distance beyond his sight, “Brother.”

“An egg...” No. 13 thought, “Brass Egg.”

Would such a report be worth even 200 dollars? No. 13 is a bit hesitant. The money seemed too good to be true.

In the quartz glass cavity, there is a jar with a brass texture and a dark green patina on the surface. He can just make out an engraved pattern of a double snake guarding a giant tree. The outer wall was originally completely closed, bu there was a gray tin-colored place above it and there was a black hole that seemed to be corroded out.

But it was much like an egg.

There was no doubt that this was his goal. The smell of medal rust in the air started to become stifling. The strong magnetic field made a loose screw on his watch fly out and cling to the quartz glass cavity. The out wall began to quake. No wonder this lab is made completely of glass! There was no metal anywhere!

Dozens of eyes behind him watched him. Sooner or later they would figure him out. No. 13 thought quickly. “What the hell is this? This is worth 5 million dollars for its information?”

“No, what they’re after isn’t this copper jar... but what’s in it!”

“No wonder that the instructions said to observe with my own two eyes and if it’s broken, look inside!” No. 13 made up his mind. He tore off his lab coat in full view, and leaped on to the exam table and peered into the gap. 

The black gap was like a well of time.

“Brother, there are many people outside.”

“maybe you will die? but Constantine, don’t be afraid.”

“I’m not afraid. As long as I stay with my brother I’m not afraid. But why don’t you eat me? Eat me, brother, and you can break out of any cage.”

“You are good food, but that would be too lonely. For thousands of years, only you and I were together.”

“But death is really sad, like being sealed in a black box, forever and ever, pitch black. You reach into the dark and never feel anything.”

“The so-called destiny of the abandoned clan is to cross the wasteland, raise the battle flag again, and return home. Death is not terrible. It is just a long sleep. Before we can swallow the world, we expect to ravel alone. It is better to sleep peacefully and wait to wake up.”

“Brother... when you raise the flag and devour the world, will you eat me?”

“Yes, then you will be with me, and you will come to the world!”

No. 13 felt dizzy. “Who is...talking?”

It seemed that he was really standing by a well, listening to the people in it. In the dark of the well, someone looked up at him. The well was deep, and he felt like he might fall in at any moment.

“Damn, why is this kind of second-rate stage play lines again?” No 13 looked away and felt a little cursed. Things that are this old might be cursed. Fortunately, No. 13 never cared about strange objects, but before this one, his heart was beating wildly.

“All those who are in front of the army are in front!” After reciting this sentence in bad Chinese, No. 13 pulled out the shotgun, turned and pointed it at the stunned group of researchers outside the tempered glass. "Hands in the air! Unless you want to die!”

The principal was stupefied for a moment, and immediately raised his hands. He seemed to be an old guy who understood the current state of affairs. The researchers’ eyes were full of disbelief but they also raised their hands after the principal.

“Alright, I’ll add a sentence to my report that says that when I looked inside... it was as if someone was looking back at me.” He thought to himself.

But that should have been impossible. Under the low temperature of liquid nitrogen, even if there were bacteria inside, it would freeze to death.

“I’ll just treat it as a high school gym class and just do it.” No. 13 kicked opened the door of the cryogenic chamber.

A researcher suddenly lifted the transparent plastic cover on the console and pressed a red button inside with one hand.

“Dragon Invasion in the secure area! Invasion!” A stern girl’s voice echoed in the air.

The reinforced outer cover outside the quart glass cavity behind No. 13 was fastened tightly, twelve valves sealed at the same moment and a large amount of liquid nitrogen was injected into it.

“Are you calling the police? Is this a convenience store robbery?” No. 13 was very annoyed by the situation.

He should have put the saw-barrel shotgun against the researcher’s forehead and blasted him with a single shot. But he was still a little dizzy and every bullet was soaked when he fell into the aquarium. So he stepped forward and kicked the guy and then took down seven more researchers. Taking advantage of the chaos, No. 13 turned and ran out of the laboratory.

“Stop him!” The principal shouted. 

The researchers came to their senses and swarmed outside.

At the same time, in the water above the aquarium, No 13′s lost phone suddenly turned on. 

“No. 13 if you are not dead right now, then you should be close to the target. Your target is a brass pot, about 1.8 meters in height and 1.2 meters in diameter, with a corroded gap above it. The last instruction is to open the gray tin bottle and pour the solution through the gap. Once this is completed, the bonus rises to 10 million US dollars.”

The water eventually penetrated the phone’s battery and it stopped working forever.

In the shadow of the cryogenic hatch, a person sighed low. Everyone had evacuated and no one noticed him in the chaos. “And just like that, the mission failed? This young man is really unreliable.” He said softly.

He walked out of the shadows, picked up the tin bottle left by No. 13 and walked into the quartz glass cavity. He inserted a black card into the card slot on the console.

“This operation will cause the opening of he Dragon’s Egg. Norton, the King of Bronze and Fire may wake up. Operation prohibited! Operation Prohibited! Operation Prohibited!” Norma’s voice echoed over the laboratory and a warning alarm blared. Red lights rolled through the entire lab.

“Keep quiet, Norma, this is the time for us to witness a miracle.” The man lowered the valve and cut off the communication between the entire laboratory and Norma.

With the main power supply cut, Norma’s voice disappeared, the lights went out one by one, and only the alarm is left, the red lights rotating.

The crimson of the warning lights flow in the dark, like lava, like blood, like doomsday.

These light up the expressionless face of the man.

The temperature rises rapidly, the high-speed rotating electron flow in the superconducting magnetic field attenuates, and the suspended quartz glass cavity slowly dropped down. The twelve sealed valves unlocked at once and a huge amount of white steam was ejected. The reinforced outer covered opened.

“With my bones and blood to the great Majesty, Nidhogg. He is the supreme, the most powerful and the most virtuous existence, destined to rule the whole world.” The man stretched out his hand to touch the quartz glass chamber and felt the vibration coming from it. The vibration became more and more intense.

“Good, you didn’t make me wait too long!” The man drew his knife from his sleeve. A sharp blue knife mark was left in the glass wall. The vacuum inside was broken, and screaming air poured in. The man cut the neck of the gray tin bottle with a knife and aimed the break at the crack. The gray tin-colored liquid followed the knife mark into the quartz glass cavity and circulated along the inner wall of the glass like a thin snake, away from the central copper tank, as if afraid of it. But s more and more liquid entered the glass cavity, this ash stream began to boil and bubble with a rustling and peeling sound, like a living thing.

the man put the knife in his sleeve and left the cryogenic laboratory. 

He looked back at the door for the last time and all the gray tin solution flew away from the inner wall in an instant and ‘pounced’ on the copper pot. When the two touched, a violent corrosive effect appeared, and the indestructible popper can is like a piece of softened cheese melted in a microwave, emitting a dark green mist.

An indescribable low growl echoed in the cryogenic laboratory, anxious and manic.

“Welcome back to the world, Constantine.” The man closed the door.

TO BE CONTINUED..... @mechaspirit

[maychorian]

Hurt!Tim and no. 6 please :)

I was gonna skip this because I’d already written it with Tim and Jason, but it is just SUCH a good prompt. There are definitely more than two scenarios that could be written with that line.

“Where are you? Tell me where you are.”

“Bruce, can you come get me?”

It was Tim’s voice, breathless, scared. Bruce pressed the phone closer to his ear, already heading for the door before he realized that he didn’t even know where Tim was. He could hear chatter and music in the background on Tim’s end, young voices, boisterous and loud, a bass line boosted high enough to distort the pop music coming out of a too-large speaker. Had Tim gone to a party or something?

Bruce clenched his fist. He really should have put a tracker on the kid. But he was supposed to be having a normal life, at least sometimes. Living with his dad, going to school, hanging out with his friends. He wasn’t supposed to be in danger, not when he wasn’t dressed in a brightly colored costume fighting criminals and monsters on the grimy streets.

“Where are you? Tell me where you are.”

Tim let out a breath of relief, as if he hadn’t been sure if Bruce would agree to come for him. As if he didn’t know how important he was. As if he didn’t know that Bruce would go to the ends of the earth for him, let alone a house party somewhere in the suburbs of Gotham.

“Brad Culbert’s house,” he said miserably. “Do you know who that is? Of course you do. You’ve probably memorized the contact information of everyone in my school, you paranoid freak.”

Bruce snorted. Tim wasn’t far wrong. He had certainly run background checks on all of the teachers at Tim’s junior high, as well as most of the students. He didn’t quite have it all memorized, though. He pulled Culbert’s address up on his wrist computer as he strode toward the garage, grabbing a jacket from a coat rack as he went.

“I’m on my way. Tell me the situation. Why do you want to leave? Are you somewhere safe?” And why was he calling Bruce instead of Jack? Was he worried about getting into trouble, and he thought that Bruce wouldn’t scold him the way his father would? In that he was definitely wrong, though Bruce planned to keep the lecture until after he had Tim safe. Within arm’s length. Possibly between two layers of armor.

A door closed on Tim’s end, and the noise of the party became muffled, as if he had shut himself in a closet or a bathroom. It bothered Bruce that he hadn’t already done that on his own, before calling Bruce. Was Tim compromised in some way?

“It was just, just supposed to be this end of the school year fling,” Tim said, his voice wavering. “I thought it was gonna be, you know, like soda and chips and board games and maybe some people would swim in Brad’s pool. He has a nice pool. I didn’t realize until like an hour in that his parents weren’t here. And I didn’t realize that someone had spiked the punch until, like, ten minutes ago.”

Bruce eyes narrowed. He was in the car now, one of the Bentleys that looked relatively ordinary but had been reinforced with heavy armor, just in case. He hadn’t noticed that Tim’s voice had a slight slur in it until he mentioned the punch. “How much did you drink?” he asked sharply.

“Kind of a lot.” Tim sounded like he was going to cry. “I’m really sorry, Bruce. I should have been more aware of my surroundings. I thought there was just, like, lemon juice or something in it. Something kind of bitter. I’ve never been drunk before. I don’t know what to do. I’m really scared and I feel kinda sick. Please don’t yell at me.”

Well, and now Bruce felt like an asshole. He softened his voice and deliberately made himself loosen his fist around the phone, though he did not let up on the gas pedal. “It’s okay. It wasn’t your fault. You’ve never even tasted alcohol before, have you?”

Tim was such a good kid. Always obedient, always attentive, never out of line. He seemed almost terrified of screwing up, rather, which was a little too far the other way. Bruce was kind of looking forward to the day Tim was comfortable enough with him to rebel a little, though he was also dreading it. There was no way he would have consumed enough alcohol to get drunk at the age of fourteen if he’d been aware of what he was doing.

“No,” Tim moaned, and now he was sniffling. “I’m really, really sorry. Please don’t tell my dad.”

Oh no. He was a sad drunk. Poor kid.

Now Bruce’s heart was totally melted, and there was no use even trying to deny it to himself. He tried to keep it out of his voice, though. Hopefully Tim was too inebriated to tell. “It’s okay, Tim. You can sleep it off at the manor. We’ll come up with a story for your dad.”

Tim let out a breath. “No need. He’s still on his book tour. I just…please don’t tell him when he gets back.”

Bruce had to close his mouth and do meditative breathing for a few moments to release his rage. Even now, when he was sporadically trying to be a better father, Jack Drake was still managing to neglect his already heavily neglected son. Not my business, Bruce reminded himself, as he did every time he was smacked in the face again by Jack’s inadequacies. Not my business, not my business, not my business.

“Okay,” he said once he got himself under control. “I’ll be there in twenty minutes. Just keep yourself safe.” He did not trust a bunch of unruly high schoolers around his tiny, tipsy Robin. Not even a little bit. “I’m coming for you. Everything is going to be okay.”

He held the phone against his shoulder with the side of his head as he checked the glove compartment to see if he had any activated charcoal. Yep, an almost full bottle. He was gonna pour the whole thing down the kid’s throat. Hopefully that would stave off any potential alcohol poisoning. If that didn’t work, Bruce would not hesitate to drive him to the ER and get his stomach pumped. Hell, he would take the Batjet.

“Thank you,” Tim breathed, still sniffling. “I’m gonna…gonna stay in the bathroom. It’s down the hallway from the front door, second door on the left.”

“Lock the door. I’ll be there soon.”

He set the phone down on the seat and drove.

If Bruce had a little too much fun bursting in the front door and putting on the Batman voice to scare a bunch of drunk and half-drunk teenagers, that was no one’s business but his own. Someone yelled, “It’s the cops!” at an incredibly high pitch, and everyone scattered in a very satisfactory way. Then Bruce strode down the hallway to retrieve his inebriated kid.

Tim did not have a good night, though fortunately the trip to the ER turned out to be unnecessary. Bruce did indeed pour as many capsules of activated charcoal into him as he could, as well as several bottles of water. He stayed with him while he threw up and cried and babbled apologies, seemingly for hours, then fell asleep in a sweaty, stinky heap. He camped out in a chair next to the guest room bed where he had carried the boy, keeping an eye out for any signs of alcohol poisoning. Tim made it through the night, and in the morning, Alfred prescribed his patented hangover cure: a raw egg with Tabasco and Worcestershire sauce.

It was punishment enough, almost. Bruce barely scolded him for his lack of situational awareness, though he did step up Tim’s training in that area over the next couple of weeks. As promised, he didn’t tell Jack. He didn’t think Jack would care even if he did, and the thought made him angry every time it rose to his mind, but eventually he managed to repress it.

Tim deserved better. Bruce wasn’t much better than Jack Drake, he knew that. It was a low bar, but Bruce had cleared it. If Jack Drake wasn’t going to be there to care for his son, Bruce would damn well do it for him. Every single time.

[the-quiet-winds]

A Hundred Thousands Voices that Just Can’t Sing

wow. a oneshot. @ichlugebulletsandcornnuts and i wrote a oneshot. shocking.

i don’t have much else to say so... enjoy this fluff and angst fest

this particular summer’s heat stretch spelled longer than any jane can remember, and even with central air conditioning, it seems just as hot inside as outside.

she and katherine spend many afternoons trying to beat the heat at the beach, the library, anywhere where relief could potentially be found.

it doesn’t escape jane’s notice, however, that as august begins to pass into september, parr, who usually was reclusive, seemed nonexistent around the house, not coming out for meals or anything other than the show itself.

on one particular day, jane finds the perfect opportunity to approach parr about it. boleyn and cleves were taking katherine to something called ‘laser tag’, and they’d somehow roped aragon into coming along as a form of adult supervision, meaning that jane and parr were the only two people left in the house.

it concerns jane, parr’s lack of presence around the house. sure, she often spent a lot of time alone, but she’d usually be around when jane made a morning cup of tea, or she’d pop out of her room to lend katherine a book.

so, then, she decides she should speak to parr about it. she knocks gently on parr’s door, listening for signs of movement inside.

it’s nearly silent in parr’s study, all she can hear is the occasional shift of a floorboard, but beyond that there’s no sound at all. jane had been fully expecting to hear pen scratches or keyboard taps or even books moving, but there really was no sign of life.

“cathy?” she quietly calls. “it’s jane. can i come in, love?”

jane would swear on her life she heard a noise - maybe a sigh of some sort, could have been a sniffle, but it was very parr. as is the response, a simple, voice-barely-above-a-normal-volume, “no.”

jane pauses, taken aback. that wasn’t what she’d expected at all. she hovers by the door for a moment, unsure of what to do. she didn’t want to push parr, or make her feel uncomfortable at all, but she was worried about her and the way parr had responded to the question hadn’t made her worry decrease in the slightest.

“are you sure?” she asks, possibly slightly futilely.

there’s still no sign that parr was actually there, the room so quiet and so still.

on the other side of the door, parr is sitting in her desk chair, rolling pencils between her fingers, trying to make any words flow out all. but all she can focus on, besides her obvious problems, are jane’s shifting feet on the floor just outside her room.

“go away, jane.”

jane doesn’t say anything after that, and parr turns back to her desk. she notices, however, the telltale silence and lack of creaking floorboards that could have only meant jane hadn’t walked away from the door. she sighs and turns back.

“are you just gonna stand out there or what?” she asks. she feels like there should be a tone of sarcasm behind her voice, but instead it comes out as exhaustion.

“parr...” jane starts, but her voice cracks and falters before disappearing. she clears her throat and tries again. “cathy, i just want to make sure you’re okay, love. you’ve been distant lately, and i want you to know that whatever the problem is... you can come to me about it.”

“i’m fine, jane,” parr nearly snaps. “just leave me alone, please.”

jane feels a pang to her heart at the tone of parr’s voice and she sighs.

“i’ll... i’ll be downstairs if you need me, cathy.”

she keeps her word and heads downstairs, mind troubled with thoughts of parr and what’s making her withdraw herself like this. she wants parr to open up to her, to talk to her about what’s wrong, but she knows pushing parr will just make her draw back into her she’ll even more.

her best plan at the moment, she supposes, is to leave it a little while, then bring parr a cup of tea or something, see if she’s ready to talk then. if not, then jane doesn’t know how to get through to her right now.

parr sighs, somewhat thankful and somewhat upset as she hears jane's retreating footsteps. the woman means well, parr knows that, but she just can't talk about-

no, parr reminds herself, not thinking about it.

she forces those thoughts out of her head, but the more she tries the more they come back. she drops her head onto her desk, desperately trying to not think about mary.

oh, there it is, and the floodgates begin.

parr died only days after having her beautiful baby girl, and she has no idea what happened to her. if she even lived past infanthood. there was no information anywhere that she could find, and it makes her tremble and shake like the hills in a storm not knowing whatever happened to her little mae.

she doesn't quite know when she fell on the floor, but curling up on the rug feels like a great idea for the time being.

the tears that are currently streaming down her face certainly weren’t unexpected at this point, but she didn’t know exactly when they started falling. she lays there, shoulders shaking as the sobs rack her body, too wrapped up in misery to even think about muffling her tears or wiping them from her face.

she doesn’t even notice the door open, not until a pair of slippered feet enter her field of vision.

"parr?" a soft, gentle, and immediately recognizable voice calls.

parr knows it's jane, she does, but she's too far consumed in her guilt and her grief that she can't even think about answering. she hugs herself tighter, wrapping her arms around her waist as she nearly buries her face in the soft shag carpet.

"cathy," jane says, quietly kneeling down next to parr. she places a hand on her shoulder, and parr nearly hisses and pulls back. "cathy, it's jane, love. talk to me."

“go away,” parr’s mouth answers on autopilot, although she isn’t quite sure how she even manages to speak between the choked sobs and her clouded mind.

“i won’t,” jane says, soft but firm. “i’m not going to leave you like this, love. not even if you scream and shout at me.”

screaming and shouting sounds like a good idea to parr, if she could only remember how to take control of her voice again.

she balls some of the carpet into her fist, burrowing further into it and silently hoping it would just swallow her.

“what’s brought this on, love,” jane asks gently, “please talk to me.”

more images of her baby girl, wrapped in that little silk blanket, appear in front of her eyes. her heart starts to race, breathing quickening as she loses track of jane in front of her.

“mary,” she whispers hoarsely, as if calling her back. “mary.”

at that one word, everything slots into place. or at least, most of it. jane knows that parr never got to spend time with her daughter, that she was likely taken out of the room right away as parr took ill, and jane can relate to the heartbreaking sight of seeing your baby being taken away, unsure if you’ll ever see them again.

“cathy,” jane says, softly, gently. “please, you can talk to me about it.” as jane speaks, parr manages to catch onto her words and hear them, grounding herself ever so slightly. as jane continues, though, parr wonders if it would have been better to not have heard them at all.

“i understand how you feel, cathy,” jane sighs, and she’s only trying to help, but parr feels a strange rage bubble up inside her.

“no you don’t,” she hisses, a sudden venom behind her words.

“i do, cathy,” jane insists, “me and eddie, remember?”

“that’s not the same.”

“it is, cathy, i died just-“

“it is not the same, jane,” parr hisses, a dark bitterness spreading through her words. “mary,” she chokes on the name, but presses on, “mary was my only chance. after your,” she gives jane a sharp poke on the shoulder, pushing her back slightly, “bastard of a brother ruined everything i had with bess, she wouldn’t come near me!” her voice lowers, but not to a whisper but nearly to growl. “i had no one, and mary was my only chance.”

jane, stares, a horrified frown on her face. “cathy, i-” she begins, but parr isn’t done yet.

“and then, when i hadn’t even had a chance to hold her, i was ripped away from her.” she gives a dark chuckle. “maybe it’s karma. i should have done something more for bess. i should have recognised the signs, i should have listened earlier, i should have not been so blinded by my love for that bastard-” here she pauses, squeezing her eyes shut. “i should have done so much more, but i didn’t. so maybe this was just life’s way of getting back at me. taking away the two most important things in my life, one after the other.”

“cathy-“

“don’t even try, jane,” parr protests, she still can’t make herself move off the floor. what scares jane next is the way that parr’s breathing seems to get faster, a slightly high-pitched nervous giggle forming in her words as she continues, “and everyone knows bess became the greatest queen who ever lived, right? but i don’t even know what happened to mary, because according to all the books i read, her life stopped mattering the second mine ended!” there are tears and fast breathing and shrill, uncomfortable giggles all together now, and parr’s fists keep clenching and unclenching the carpet.

“she was an orphan before she even reached a year old, and nobody even bothered to find out what happened to her. why would anyone care, after all? she was only my daughter. i only gave my life for her.”

parr’s voice had reached a volume jane had never heard it reach before, and if anyone else was in the house they definitely would have heard it by now.

there were tears streaming down her face so fast it just looked like perpetual wetness. but parr still isn’t done.

“i had plans to take her away. we were going to run off to ireland and leave all the mess behind. i was going to give her everything. but she was left alone, and no one fucking decided to document the life of a former english queen.”

jane takes in a breath. not only was this the angriest she’d ever seen parr, but it was the first time she’d ever heard her swear. she doesn’t know what to do or what to say, and can only let parr pour out her heart on the floor of her study. jane is powerless to do anything.

it seems that parr is coming to the end of her outburst, or at least to a break in it, and her body slumps over, drained of energy.

“why didn’t anybody care?” she asks, the biting tone to her voice replaced with exhaustion.

jane doesn’t know how to answer, how to react to such an admission. parr just dumped her broken soul on the carpet and jane needed to help clean it up. she just doesn’t know how.

she truthfully had never thought of how losing mary and elizabeth must have affected parr. she never talked about it, somewhat like how boleyn didn’t either.

“i just wish i knew,” parr basically whimpers, “what happened to her.”

“cathy,” jane says softly, “i... i’m sorry. i didn’t know-”

“yeah, you and everyone else,” parr says harshly, before sighing and dropping her head. “sorry. ‘s not your fault. i just...”

she doesn’t say anything after that, nor does she move, and jane kneels down next to her.

she slowly reaches out and places a gentle hand on parr’s shoulder, light enough that parr would be able to knock it off if she didn’t want any contact.

she doesn’t.

parr presses her forehead into the carpet trying to slow her breathing and calm her mind.

“i keep seeing her,” she whispers, her voice barely audible. “when i’m sleeping. she’s there. beautiful little girl, greenest eyes you’ve ever seen. but she’s not real.” she slams her fist against the carpet. “she’s gone.”

“maybe we could find a historian to look into it,” jane suggests hesitantly, but parr shakes her head.

“i’ve tried, jane. i’ve tried every avenue I can think of. nobody knows what happened to her because there was nobody who cared about her after me and thomas-” she stumbles over his name slightly, “-died. until someone invents a time machine i’ll never know.” she sighs bitterly and jane doesn’t blame her; for all her sadness over edward, she at least had accounts of his life, had paintings she could look at and see how he’d grown.

“i wish they were here,” parr whispers. “bess and mae. i wish i could apologize.” she sighs. “i’d tell bess that i didn’t mean to let her be hurt, that i think i really loved her more than thomas...” parr sniffles slightly. “and i’d tell mae that... i love her. i didn’t mean to leave.” she choked out the last few words as tears begin to flow again.

jane doesn’t know what to say, so instead she just wraps an arm around parr’s shoulders, slightly awkwardly given parr’s position on the floor.

to her relief, parr seems to accept the contact and even leans her head to the side, resting it against jane’s knee as she sobs. jane rubs gentle circles onto parr’s shoulder with her thumb, hoping the movement would soothe her slightly or at least give her some reassurance that she wasn’t alone, that jane was here for her.

there’s a flutter of conversation downstairs as the group returns, and parr immediately cringes as the loud voices drive through the house, especially in the half-witted state she was in.

“would you like me to close the door?” jane asks, shuffling to do so, but parr lets out a soft noise and grabs at her wrist.

“they��ll come anyway.”

she is found to be correct, as footsteps and laughter echo up the stairs and stops outside the office.

“cathy?” katherine asks quietly. “what’s wrong?”

“a few things, kid,” parr half-laughs, although she mostly sounds exhausted. “your mum’s been taking care of me, though.”

“oh,” katherine says. there’s a pause as she shifts from one foot to the other. “is there anything i can do to help?”

“could you fetch a glass of water, love?” jane says softly. she’s sure parr would appreciate it after losing so much in her tears. katherine nods and hurries past the other queens who are clustered awkwardly in the landing.

boleyn enters next. she sits down cross-legged net to jane, looking down at parr with surprisingly kind and sympathetic eyes.

before she can speak, parr nearly starts to cry again. “i’m sorry about bess,” she mumbles. “so sorry.”

boleyn’s lips tighten, but then relax. “i know, parr, but it’s okay. don’t beat yourself up.”

“i wish i could have kept her safe,” parr whispers.

“she didn’t resent you for anything,” boleyn says quietly. “i learnt that from my reading.”

“i wouldn’t have blamed her if she did.” parr’s voice is barely audible. “if you did.”

“i don’t...” boleyn closes her eyes then opens them. “i don’t blame you for what happened. sure, maybe you could have done more.” parr lets out a choked half-whimper at that. “but most of us have done things in our lives we regret. i know i regret the way i treated aragon’s mary.” she scratches the back of her neck awkwardly. “i’m not gonna hold a grudge for 500 years when you weren’t the one who did it.”

a smile flicker like a broken light across parr’s lips, then falls away. “she was so perfect, anne,” parr absently says, “so smart and bold. could name every flower in the royal garden... we spoke in french or italian so we couldn’t be easily understood...” she turns her head slightly to look up at boleyn. “she asked about you. who you were...” she drops her voice. “what happened to you. i didn’t know how to tell her, i believed you innocent anyway... she just thought you died.”

boleyn gives a rueful shake of her head. “not my girl. she would have found it out, she was resourceful as hell. but... i appreciate you looking out for her like that, i really do.”

“she loved you so much,” parr says faintly. “sometimes some of the things you do... she was so much like you, anne.”

boleyn wipes hastily at her eyes, which were beginning to fill with tears.

aragon, finally understanding the situation, enters the room as well,  joining the circle. her goddaughter needed her.

“you did nothing wrong, parr,” she says gently, “what happened in the past... we can’t change it.”

parr opens her mouth to respond when katherine comes flying in with the water. she hands it to parr, then lays down on the floor next to her. she looks at parr with wide, youthful eyes. “i hope you feel better, aunty cathy,” she whispers.

parr gives her a watery smile. “thank you, mon petit ange,” she says gently. katherine shifts closer to her until she’s almost curled up against her, and aragon puts her hand on parr’s shoulder.

“we’re here for you.” her voice is strong yet soft. “whenever you need to talk, we’re here to listen. we promise.”

“aragon’s right,” boleyn nods. “you don’t have to bottle everything up. we’re your family, cathy, and we wanna help when we can.”

parr looks at them - all of them, as cleves had followed katherine in and took up residence beside boleyn - and her eyes fill with tears again. she wraps one arm around katherine, pulling the girl against her, and places her other hand on top of aragon’s.  she smiles again, watery and sad, but with some bare semblance of hope. “thank you, i...” she sniffles. “i don’t know what i did in my past life to deserve you all, but i love you ladies.” she takes a breath. “even if i don’t show it, i do.”

“we love you too,” katherine says, voice muffled against the material of parr’s jumper.

“and don’t you forget it,” aragon adds, leaning over and pressing an oddly maternal kiss to the top of parr’s head.

“that’s the beauty of this second chance, love,” jane says softly. “we all have each other.”

“we all have each other,” parr repeats in a faint murmur. she feels katherine pull against her more, and she finally feels cognizant enough to bend her head just slightly and kiss the top of kat’s head.

“can’t get rid of us so easily,” boleyn laughs.

parr lets out a breathy chuckle, then meets boleyn’s eyes seriously. “i would never want to, anne.” she kisses kat’s head again. “never.”

[echoegyptianheritage-blog]

Day 19 - 23 August 2019 (KHD)

REFLECTIONS

Dear All,

Day off today! The shock of not being awoken at 4 by the muezzin, at 445 by Joris clambering out of bed, and at 5 by my own rather feeble phone alarm was a luxury I can’t express! The sore head caused by a fusion of clonking myself on the bonce yesterday along with the tiny (yes it was really tiny!) whisky that Marius produced made me a slow starter…but it was nice to walk out on the terrace and survey my kingdom unlike the usual shamble out of the door, swearing under my breath, that typically takes place at 545 each day.

Our house is rather grand in terms of the village in general, being made of real bricks and tile, with a boundary wall, trees and an outhouse where the displaced family who own the house are currently staying. It stands on the edge of a dust road, on the other side of which is a tiny tributary of the Nile that wanders innocently across the plain, seemingly unaware that it is responsible for watering the Delta that supported the glory of Egypt’s heyday and even now feeds the nation without raising a sweat. You wouldn't know it to look at it – it’s frankly green and has rather desperate looking fish floundering about in it, but pour this onto a sandy field and it’s ten feet high in crops in minutes. It’s really extraordinary.

The village itself is brown and grey mudbrick, with drifts of rubbish blowing over the dust, punctuated by goats, skeletal cows and mangy cats that look at you with insolent yellow eyes before melting away into the shadows if you get too close. Everyone knows us, from the old man who sits at the site of the road – I swear so he can say good morning to us as we plod off to work – to the industrious mothers carrying loads on their heads, to the dozens of children scampering off to school with huge rucksacks, pausing to shyly say hello to us and play with Tish’s braids, which they find fascinating. The posher houses are painted white, which makes the bloody handprints placed on them during Eid stand out all the more clearly, dry trickles of blood running down the gateposts. From the size of them I’d say that they were made by children.

The village bakes during the day, is dull and lifeless, the chinks of darkness at the doors betraying the family lurking inside with fans, sweltering in the midday sun, yet when evening comes the houses spring into a variety of reds, oranges and yellows, as they do in the morning when they have been washed clean by night time dew. It’s a decidedly odd, and yet magical place to work. Once we have done about four hours’ work or so at around tennish, a cry of ‘fatour’ (breakfast) goes up and we are ushered under the trees that front onto the dig hut (really a house) where two rickety tables have been set up. Sometimes we don't even bother with that, and we all throw ourselves down on a massive rug. The Egyptian women primly remove themselves to under their own tree, and are fed remotely by boys scuttling to and fro, whereas the Brits and the Egyptian men don’t stand on ceremony and pitch into the food: taamiya (felafel), fuul (beans), gibneh (cheese – both white and oddly flavoured pseudo-Edam), tomatem (guess!), basel (onions) pickles, hardboiled eggs and of course aysh – life, which is also the word for bread. On special occasions we may have a tin of tuna, or some olives. After the meal we sit under the trees while Ahmed and Mohammed take care of the tea, served in tiny glasses with tooth-janglingly large amounts of sugar, which you have to hold with great care to avoid burning your fingers, and make approving slurping noises as you drink it. You might get basbusa (little sugar cakes) as well, if Joris and the budget approve it. Then I rouse the minions before they get drowsy, and head back out into the glare of the sun for round two.

People ask me what it’s like, perhaps fondly imagining pink gins by the Nile as fellahin bring you intact pots and mummy masks…or maybe running from a giant stone ball as you escape the temple you have just robbed. Well…it’s not as Poirot or Spielberg would have you believe. The work is hard – it stretches you, because you have to dig in weird positions that I have christened digasthenics – kneeling, or on your side, or on your stomach, or hanging down into pits until the blood thunders in your ears, twisting and wriggling about because your back hurts, and your bum has gone numb, and your knees ache, and the sun burns you, and you get so hot you can’t think straight. Simple tasks like measuring and drawing become rather onerous and you find yourself making daft mistakes. The glare off the sand hurts your eyes, but your shades keep sliding off your nose in your ludicrous position so you take them off and so you end up squinting, and probably wrinkly. You’re wearing factor 50 sunscreen and it washed off in about ten minutes. You have a hat and a scarf on…except for me, who wears shorts and flip-flops against stern advice to the contrary. You remember that not only are you doing this for nothing, but you’re actually paying for the privilege. You also remind yourself of the fact that you’re a university academic, with a hundred papers to mark and theses to review and books to publish, and that when you do so you will get the same wage as an entry level McDonalds employee, if you’re lucky. You remind yourself that you’ve been doing this for 25 years. You start to question your sanity. You fantasise about air conditioning and swimming pools and long, cold drinks full of ice cubes, frosted with a million tiny droplets of condensation. You drink water by the gallon and it doesn't seem to make any difference as you’re still hot and thirsty and you’re just about to call for a taxi to take you to the airport and suddenly under your trowel appears something that hasn’t seen light of day for five thousand years. Silent bony fingers curled around each other, cradling the skull, the knees pulled up into the ribs so that – what? – the person could be born again in the next life? If you’re lucky they’re accompanied by food and goods for the afterlife as well, an immortal picnic of ceramic vessels or bones, and they were dressed in finery that is long gone but is whispered at by the laboriously produced beads and pendants made from obsidian, agate and carnelian, with which they adorned their necks, heads and wrists. You lie there, with a sudden and silent audience standing behind you, scratching away with your bamboo skewer as the body is uncovered inch by laborious inch, stained by time and elements in their long sleep underground, coming back to light of day from a time beyond imagining…and you are the first living human being to see them. Ever. When I was 18 I did this for the first time, and it seemed to me then – as, to be honest, it still seems to me now – to be a moment of absolute magic. Everything does stand still, just for a second, as you contemplate what it is, and what it means – it really puts you in your place. Or you could be back in England, having a £4 latte, plodding along under an umbrella in the freezing rain, the sky like thunder, about to have a seven pound sandwich for lunch before spending twelve quid on tubes and buses that rattle through dreary suburbs for an hour. And you thank God that you chose archaeology.

LSO

[boogiewrites]

Choking On Sapphires 32

Title & Song:  Growing On Me

Characters: Alfie Solomons x Genevieve (OFC)

Word Count: 3500+

Summary: Genevieve gets played by the marriage enthusiast Aggie. - Alfie finds a way to cut through Genevieve’s bad mood. - Genevieve is hit hard with questions about her worth when it comes to romance. 

Warnings/Tags: Language. Fluff.

A/N: Every chapter of this story will have a song to work as the title and as a soundtrack. Chapter song is Growing On Me by The Darkness. 

Positive feedback is MUCH appreciated! Reblogs, likes, asks and comments feed me to write more! Let me know if you’d like tagged in my work.

My Masterlist. (Includes Parts 1-31)

He's come home to an eerily silent house. No one answers him at the door, and he sees no one on the way to his room. As he's changed into something more comfortable and made his way cautiously around the house, subconsciously heading straight for your room, turning swiftly as he hears a noise from the kitchen.

He pads down the dim back hallways of the house that connect almost all the rooms. He hears you and exhales noisily, putting his gun into the back of his trousers. He moves towards the sound of you talking to yourself as you're leaning over slightly, hands on your knees, looking into the oven window. You have a lovely flowing blue dress on, your hair pulled back messily, bits loose and pieces fall in no certain order.

"Where is everyone?" you hear Alfie call from the other side of the kitchen.

"It's a summer day off I give the house staff before my birthday." you explain, turning to face him, showing a smudged apron and a flushed face.

"What do ya do that for?" he asks, chin moving up as he approaches you, hand on the large wooden butcher block top of the island in the center of the kitchen.

"Well it's very stressful on them. The planning, the cleaning up, tending to guests. It can get a bit wild so some can come upon uncomfortable situations and I like my people happy so I give them time off before and after the party." you explain, laying your pot holders to the surface his hand rested on.

"Well that's nice of ya innit?" he asks rhetorically, looking into the oven behidn you. "What ya got in there?" he asks, head nodding towards the dish.

"Dinner." you say with a chuckle. "Hopefully. It's been well over ten years since I've made it." you say with an uneasy smile and a shrug.

"Well what is it?" he clarifies.

"A Potato Kugel." you say, moving with him as he walks towards the oven.

"What ya makin' a Kugel for luv?" he says with a surprised look on his face.

You turn to sit on a stool by the counter. "Well Aggie reminded me it was the anniversary of Ida's death and got me feeling all nostalgic." you say with sweet inflection to your voice.

"Who's Ida?" he asks, turning to you, hands in his pockets.

"She was the nurse I had from before I even born." your lashes flutter, your eyes moving around the room in memory.

"Has Agatha not been with ya that long?"

"She worked in the same home, but she wasn't my personally assigned nurse." you explain.

"Personally assigned nurse. I forget how posh your upbringing was sometimes." he admits with a small half smile and a quick tilt of his head.

"Hush." you say with a chuckle.

"Was this something Ida made?"

"Yes. I loved it when I was younger. She'd made me one special sometimes." he adores the girlish smile that comes across your face as a good memory dances behind your eyes.

"Was Ida one of mine?" he asks, turning his eyes back to the oven for a moment.

"Yeah." you laugh, finding the way he asked his questions very entertaining from time to time. "I don't know much beyond her being Russian and Jewish though." you admit with a furrowed brow.

"Oi, she was like me 'en wunnit she?" he lets out a surprisingly loud laugh.

"Are you Russian?" you ask, your surprise clear in your high pitched voice.

He grins at your big eyes and open mouth. "Me mother was." he says with a nod.

"Well that's a bit of serendipity isn't it?" you say with a childlike wonderment on your face. "That's lovely." you say with a very charming smile, kicking your feet as they don't touch the floor in the high chair.

"Well we'll remember her fondly tonight with this." you say with a heavy sigh. "Aggie thought I could make it from memory. Although I'm not entriely convinced yet that her faith is misplaced, I just haven't cooked anything in so long."

"Yeah I don't know that I've ever seen ya do much besides put jam on toast." he pauses, his fingers pick at his beard as he thinks. "Nah, you's heatin' up leftovers in a pan one night in 'ere wunnt ya?" he chuckles.

"I'm perfectly capable of cooking, I just haven't had to in awhile. Aggie thought it might be nice for me to make something to eat for once since it'd be just a handful of us here tonight. Not like I had to make a huge meal." you elaborate.

"And what better to make than a Kugel?" he says with a grin.

Then it hits you and you start to laugh, your face moving to your hands on the counter.

"What?" he asks, eyes getting wider.

"I got fucking worked by cheeky 'ol Ags is what." you groan out. "Fell right fucking into that." you sigh, turning to face him, wiping your fingers under your eyes.

He stands, raised eyebrows still waiting for a response.

"It's only going to be a few people here tonight. She knew she could use Ida as an excuse to get me to cook. And of course, she lures me right into making a Jewish dish. And she knew you'd be here tonight for dinner. A dinner that I'm making...cooking for the first time since you've moved in...ya see where this is going?" you ask with a wrinkled nose.

The realization blooms across his face as he laughs out loud, eyes crinkling at Agatha. "Relentless." he says with a shake of her head.

"So she IS bothering you about me as well? Because she's sure as fuck bother me about you." you both start to laugh.

"Of fuckin' course she has been Genny." he says gruffly as if it were the most obvious fact in the world.

"She is persistent if nothing else." you say with a sigh as you both laugh until a sigh builds between you, biding your time over the cripsing Kugel.

"I meant to tell ya when I came in 'an got so distracted by your divine skills in Jewish cookin' that I must've gotten sidetracked with the urge to propose and forgot." he says with a goofy smile.

You blink your eyes at him, giving him a playfully warning smirk.

"I 'eard some boys talkin' 'bout you today." he says with an odd but not off putting expression. "And a few ladies, come to think." he adds with a nod.

"What?" you ask with an unsure shake of your head.

"I 'eard you's the girl that knocked the granny out 'a Darby." he says proudly before his shoulders shake with a silent laugh.

"Oh, the word must be getting around then." you say with a big, slow nod. "It seemed I got hassled less today and I wasn't sure if it was coincidence or not." you say with a thoughtful pout.

"Apparently that second hit gave him a bit of a shiner and with the need for explanation, that he ain't givin', yeah? It's findin' its way around the rumor mill 'bout now. And apart from the normal derogatory terms that are inescapable amongst that sort of company, it's all about you being quite the little bearcat, roughin' up Darby 'n gangsters like me 'n the like." he gives you a sly smile.

You study his face, still smirking at his words. "They aren't talking about us working together?"

"I 'on't fink nobody gives a flyin' fuck as long as the subject of a woman beatin' up a gangster is on the table." he says in a matter of fact sort of way that your find oddly relieving to hear.

"Seems that worked out in my favor." you say with a huff of a laugh.

"You got all of London whispering about what a tough little bird ya are, luv." he says quietly with a supportive smile, leaning in closer to you.

You aren't really sure how to take the news. It was good, but you were still left nervous. You breathe a sigh of relief after a shielded reassuring smile at him before he moves to fetch drinks. The kitchen is quiet, but it's noisy in your head as you wonder how far the word would spread, and even more curious as to how that rumor might change as it traveled. --------------- You're raging with blood to back up your fury as you've barricaded yourself in your studio again for the few days. It isn't unknown to those who have been in your employee for any amount of time how you prefer to be left alone for a few days a month. And by left alone you mean you are probable to yell, and not in polite words at anyone who did anything to upset you. At this point, you ruled as a ditator in your household, you tried to compensate for your behavior with kindness to your staff, the poor dears.

Alfie pads up the stairs, taking his time, listening to shouts from the landing above him, slowly coming into view. He hears a teacup smash and girl hunched over, trying not to look mad, shuffles out of your studio hurriedly.  He stands and moves his head with her, watching her rush away. He returns his head with a quick swing as he hears Aggie's familiar sigh and a door shutting.

"My word Mr. Solomons," she says rolling her eyes, "Why are you up here? I told you she wasn't fit for company, poor dear." she says, shoudlers slumped, clearly tired and bless her, she was still trying to shine this in a positive light.

"Well she ain't come down for tea 'an then I's told she was feelin' poorly and I thought it proper to bring her somefin'." he says with a hopeful tone that makes Aggie shut her eyes and took a deep breath and hoping to herself that you'd see how thoughtful this man was one day. "I didn't know what was wrong so I just brought her 'is." he holds up a box from his bakery, flowers limply resting on top, wrapped in paper.

Aggie frowns and he's entirely confused by the expresssion. He thought women liked these sorts of things. Her face is really scowling because of how pleasant he could be in his honesty with his shrugging shoulders and questioning brows.

"You really didn't have to go to all that trouble." she says, biting the inside of her cheek at him.

"Well, she coulda been fuckin' dyin' up here what with how no one would tell me what was wrong with her, eh?" he says with a nod, eyes wide.

"She isn't always in such a foul mood," she says with one last sigh, moving away from the door, letting him enter by his own choice. "But there's always the chance she won't be miserable at you if you go in there and be your charmin', young self at her," she says matter of factly, moving slowly back to the stairs. "I don't care what she says, I know she likes it." she says in a sassy way and to no one in particular even though it was just the two of them upstairs.

He clears his throat, readjusting the box in his grip and knocking swiftly on the door.

"WHAT?" you state loudly, not in anger but in the least rude way you could get away with. The door opens with a quiet squeak as he pushes through his hesitancy, still not knowing what he would be met with.

You are perched on a stool, back slightly hunched with one foot resting on the seat, the other hanging down. You were posed much like a gargoyle on a cathedral with your curved back, a claw-like pose of your hands around the paint brush, extended to the canvas as he enters.

"Genevieve?" you hear his familiar voice, it felt even more warm than usual. He must have been warned. You move your face, stone with a heavy brow to his wide eyed curious face with a sigh.

"Alfie..." you sigh noisily. "Why are you here?" you ask in an annoyed drawn out way.

"Can I come In?" he asks politely, his lips pouting just slightly as your eyes narrowed at him, waiting to walk further into the room. At least he wasn't being a pest.

"Fine." you groan, shaking your head and setting down your brush. You turn to see him walk in, the box you know to be from his bakery in his hands, your stomach grumbles at the sight. You notice the paper on the top actually conceals flowers and is not part of the box and your stone face breaks.

The laugh starts in your chest, your eyes squeezing shut as you put your hands over your face as you laugh. You turn your head back to him as he approaches. You slowly drag your hands down your face, pulling bits of pieces of your already wild and haphazard bun that rested on top of your head down with your fingers. You sigh and exhale in a dramatic way. You leave one hand on your face, your fingers over your mouth. You've stopped laughing by the time he reaches your side. You take in his casual appearance, the smell of rum telling you he'd just gotten home from work.

His eyes meet yours, they're cheerful and you give a half smile at what he must've been told about you in this state.  He sees your eyes reflecting something that he thought might be pity and he's not sure why.

"You brought me fucking flowers? You absolute fool." your voice is deeper than usual, more gritty.

"Well you weren't at tea and I was told you felt poorly so..." he shrugs and you lower your hand and take the flowers, moving both legs to a normal sitting position, sitting them on your lap. You readjust the black robe around your shoulders, the paper slides off the slick silk of the floor length gown.

"Why in the hell did you bring me flowers and sweets?" you ask, sounding exasperated but your face read as indifferent, almost amused.

"I was told you felt poorly." he says as if it's obvious. "I thought it proper to bring you somefin." he says in defense of himself. "We live in the same fuckin' house Genevieve, if ya sick, I'm not just gonna ignore you." as he speaks you take the box from his hands and open it, eating one of the round pastries.

"Perhaps you should." you say chewing slowly, your eyes looked tired, the circles under them more visible than the last time he'd seen you.

"Am I not allowed to bring you things when don't feel well now?" he sounds on the precipoce of annoyance to your difficult defaulted setting.

"They didn't tell you why I felt poorly I'm guessing" a single eyebrow raise and subtle half smile, breaking the tight lips that held too much tension.

"Well no but...what's that gotta do with anythin'?" he asks, shaking his head.

"Well, for your ease of understanding, if one were Jewish they might refer to me currently withe term, Niddah." you say, rolling your head back his way, looking for the understanding in his face. It was there.

"Ah." he says rather loudly, making you flinch slightly as you felt sensitive to such things at the moment. "Well everything makes much more sense now, dunnit?" he says with a lazy smirk and a small chuckle as you clearly are holding back a smile, your brow low but your eyes not angry in any way.

You shrug an eyebrow and your shoulders in response.

"Well, you don't gotta separate yourself now do ya? What ya hidin' up here for?" he asks, shoulders losing their stiffness now, his head nodding with his words encouragingly.  

"When I feel particularly overwhelmed I isolate myself. I don't like being such a bear so I prefer to be alone," you say evenly, cooly, no offense meant. "I'm guessing your interpretation of ritual is a bit loose since you're still in the room?" you say with a smirk, side-eyeing him, cracking a joke.

"Eh." he shrugs, his voice gruff. "I fuck up most days anyway dunnit I?" he offers with an easy going nod and eye roll at his own words.

This makes you laugh again, a quiet, more chesty laugh, pieces of hair falling into your face as your shoulders shake. You raise your head nodding, taking another heavy breath and looking over him, your face tired but your smile still subtly worn. "Good it isn't kisses and hugs but rather food and solitary I crave while like this isn't it?" you say with a sarcastic tone, your face back to pleasant.

"After the maids warned me of your foul mood, I didn't think bringin' the former in here with me would be particularly useful. " he says with a smile, his eyes playful.

"I'm never entirely opposed to anything." you say low, a humorus twist to your words, keeping your chuckle silent. "However, I do feel much like a busted old boot in this state." you admit, your face frowning slightly.

"Well now I can't have ya talkin' like 'at about yourself now can I?" he says with a sarcastic over the top frown, moving towards you, you narrow your eyes as he approached with an extended arm. He wraps one around your shoulders, pulling you close to his side, after putting your arm around his waist despite your disapproving pout.

You hated how precious the action felt so much in fact, that you started to cramp again.

"I won't wear out my welcome, luv." he says in a warm way that taps against your shield of pouting and frowns. Your raw state, your nostrils twitch at the masculine smell of him as your face was just short of grazing the loose fabric of his shirt. Your mood shifts quickly, as it often does and you swallow as the smell of him relaxes you, breaking through your grumpy phase and pulling you into your stage of craving comfort. "But will you be coming down? I bought some new books and I'm happy to bury my nose in those alone all night if that's what you wish, but I thought it worth askin'." he looks down at you, and you look at him with big kitten like eyes. You sigh and touch his hand that rests on your shoulder with your own.

"You want me to come down for dinner?" you ask, your eyes narrowing from underneath, "Even in this state?" your voice gives away your surprise.

"I want ya in any state, darling." he says, excessively and dramatically throwing his charm at you in an obnoxious way, his head shaking down towards yours, your noses almost touching.

"Fuck off with it now," you say low, your mouth smiling ever so slightly as you shove him away from you by the ribs.  He laughs and holds his side as if you'd hurt him. "Fine. I'm fucking starving anyway."  you sigh loudly , popping another pastry into your mouth. ------- You're outside in a lovely sheer green dress, matching silk slip, blending you into the rows of flowers as you moved in and out, heading towards the path to go in for tea. You're taking your gloves off, beating them outside the door as you look up and see down the long corridor that something rests on the table by the stairs that you hadn't put there, and in the midst of party planning this puts your senses on high alert. You toss the gloves into the box of tools and use the clean side of your apron to wipe the sweat from your face. You step over the boxes of food and decor for your party that lay in organized piles in the long hallway by the entryway to kitchen.

As you approach your brow furrows, your fingers reaching out lightly to touch the purple petals of an Iris. Your soft expression glances over the large floral arrangement that didn't match anything you'd ordered, you find a card inside. "It's not a field and it's not Faberge but it is French and sent with feeling. Happy Birthday." The swooping signature, as big and obnoxious as the man himself didn't have to be seen to know the alliteration to be of his doing.

"What's these?" you hear Aggie ask moving the mixed arrangement of deep jewel tone flowers, the deep purple of iris's with their yellow accents, maroon and navy, all posed in a vase, black and bejeweled sits hidden under the cascading bottom of deep greenery, fluffing the whole thing to it's ground stature.

"From the missus." you say with a laugh, watching Aggie's face as she reads the odd little poem he's left.

"Christ on the cross, Genevieve, this man," she says handing the paper back to you with a huff and readjustment of her apron. "Sometimes I think it's you that doesn't deserve him." she says, picking up the vase, already knowing to move it to your room.

"Oui," you mumble, a subtle nod. "Sometimes I think that as well." you whisper out. A slow inhale and exhale, looking about the room, knowing you had no time right now to address such feelings that his personal touches left you with. You had a party to stage.

PT 33 Dance The Night Away (NSFW)

Tags! Let me know if you’d like to be added or dropped! Thanks!

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[wishful-daydream]

Illusive | chapter 1

Pairing: Jimin x fem!reader (probably other future pairings as well)

Summary: You try to conceal your own secrets while you start to uncover those of your new city. [supernatural au] 

Warnings: mentions of blood and violence

A/N: I wrote and rewrote this so many times ^^’ It took me so long to figure out this chapter and I’m still not fully satisfied, but I think it’s just interesting enough. I hope you think so! 

Your hands jostle the doorknob of a cold and dark room in desperation. All you can hear are hissing whispers and your own pants as you try to open the door again and again in vain. Suddenly the door falls over and you run as soon as you can, your bare feet hitting the carpet as you find yourself in an empty hallway. The white-walled house seems empty. You pass through the hall more leisurely now, glancing at the doors on either side of you with curiosity. The next door is ajar, and light passes through it into the dim hallway, so you step inside. In the room, you see nothing but a window and its light curtains hanging over the bed beneath it. At the foot of the bed, closest to where you stand, is a big wooden chest. You walk over to it and kneel, thinking that there must be something interesting inside. As you lift the heavy lid of the chest, you hear a chirp and suddenly a flood of bats flies out of the chest. You scream as they swarm you, their high pitched screeches the last thing you hear.

That dream plays through your mind as you sit in your literature class, not really listening to the professor. Even though you aren’t afraid of bats, the dream was ominous. Actually, every dream that you remember having here so far has either been scary or unsettling, and you hope that’s just your anxieties about moving here manifesting in dream form.

Your class finally ends, and everyone starts to exit the lecture hall as the professor blurts reminders of what the textbook is and to read the syllabus.

Too distracted by contemplating the meaning of your nightmare, you don’t realize that it’s raining when you step out of the room until your hair is already a little damp. Unfortunately, you don’t have an umbrella, and your jacket doesn’t have a hood, so you have to hurry to the train station.

As you look at all the students scattered around the campus, you notice the atmosphere at this school, and in this city, is a lot different from your old one. People tend to keep to themselves here, and don’t really regard each other unless they know each other - the opposite of your hometown. Though it’s strange to get used to, you prefer it over the way people used to pry into each other’s lives.

By the time you reach your the station your hair and jacket are soaked. You feel exhausted and cold, and you want to just go home and take a shower, but there isn’t much to eat at home so you decide to go to the store first. You buy your ticket and wait on the seats near the tracks next to another young woman, scrolling through Instagram to pass the time.

----

The sun is going down when you get home from the grocery store, a couple heavy bags in your hand and your backpack still on. You sigh and stop to rest, relieved you don’t have to walk any further and that it’s still light out - as light as it can be when the sky is cloudy.

You rub your free hand up and down your arm as you start to walk up the front yard, and you notice that your next door neighbor has just gotten home. He slips his key into the doorknob and pauses, glancing over his shoulder to look right at you. The black haired young man gives you a bewitching smile, then returns to unlocking his door. You don’t have time to return his smile, since he looked away so quickly it feels like he never looked at you at all. Not to mention you weren’t expecting him to suddenly glance over at you,  embarrassingly catching you looking at him - how couldn’t you when he’s that attractive? You linger for a moment while he disappears into the doorway, before walking up to yours to do the same

After flicking on the light, you set your groceries on the kitchen counter and start putting them away, that look on your neighbor’s face still on your mind. Even though it was a fleeting moment of eye contact, you keep thinking about it. You haven’t uttered anything but a “hi” to him in the several days you’ve been here, but he was still one of the only friendly people you’ve encountered. Every time he sees you, he never fails to acknowledge you with a smile.

One of the reasons your mom insisted you move here was because this city isn’t the same as your hometown, so you of course knew living here wouldn’t feel the same. You try not to make any judgments about this place yet, since it’s only been a few nights and you’ve mostly been at school or at home, but things feel so opposite here. Even the weather isn’t the same, but you don’t mind that because you prefer colder weather anyway.

Humming, you open the fridge to put away the milk and couple other things that belong there. You’ve taken to humming and singing around the house a lot since, unless you watch something on tv or your phone, there was rarely any other sound present. Silence was never something that bothered you but now that it was constant you didn’t like it as much.

Just when you open a cabinet to put the last groceries away, your wish for more noise is granted when you hear something hit the kitchen window.

You turn around slowly, nervous to check what might have made that sound. Should you ignore it? There are coyotes around here - your mom made sure to mention that a dozen times - but you doubt a coyote would hit the window…  You decide that you’ll wait until there’s another noise to investigate, but you know you don’t really have enough courage for that.

With all the groceries put away, you don’t have much more to do besides eat dinner and shower. As if moving to a whole new city to live by yourself for the first time isn’t overwhelming enough, starting school immediately after gave you no time to prepare mentally or adjust before you had things to do.

After eating dinner, you leave your dishes in the sink and don’t bother to wash them right now, both because you don’t want to be by the kitchen window and because you don’t feel like washing them. Right when you walk away from the window, you hear another sound outside, and in a surprising moment of bravery, you turn around and take a look. Nothing’s there.

“You’re just paranoid,” you mumble to yourself.

You still make sure to lock the doors and windows anyway before going upstairs with your backpack.

----

As the week goes by, you find yourself easily adapting to how things are here. You even start to ignore any sounds you hear at night, which by now you’re just convinced are normal - you probably wouldn’t even notice them if the house wasn’t always so quiet.

You also don’t mind living alone as much as you feared - besides at night, because a break in is one of your biggest fears. You might’ve lived with your parents before, but otherwise, you didn’t hang around many people besides in school. Even though you aren’t very lonely, your routine is starting to get monotonous already. Since you have no classes today, you go out for a walk to see more of the town.

Mostly you wanted to check out the cool shops that you found out about when you looked up things to do around here, but as soon as you get close, the area is closed off. There are police cars and yellow tape, and a crowd of people surrounding a news van. You consider if you should move closer, but someone stops you.

“I wouldn’t go over there,” you hear someone coming up behind you say. You recognize the brunette right away from one of your classes, and she seems to recognize you too when she realizes it’s you.

“Hey, we’re in the same photography class, right?,” she asks, her lips turned up into a smile.

You’re surprised she knows you since there are so many people in that class - you don’t even know her name. “We are,” you nod.

Her smile widens, “I knew it. Anyways, you shouldn’t go any closer. This one’s more disturbing than the last one.”

Last one? You grow uneasy at the thought that whatever happened is a regular occurrence around here. You look between your classmate and the crowd of people before asking. “What happened?”

She raises her brows, then furrows them. “Don’t tell me you don’t know about the attacks. Are you, like, new around here?”

“I just moved here this week,” you explain, and her expression instantly changes to one of confusion. You worry that you said something weird or made the conversation awkward somehow.

“Here? I can’t see why anyone would, but I guess you don’t know about the crime lately. There have been a few murders in the past couple months. All the victims were slashed somewhere and practically had all their blood drained.”

If you had known about this before, you definitely wouldn’t have agreed to move here. A moment of panic grips you, and you wonder how your mom could have neglected to find out about it. Surely she would have told you if she knew. Suddenly you’re more nervous to live alone again.

“Hey, don’t worry too much. They aren’t frequent and as long as you’re not out at night, you’ll probably be okay. Here, let me give you my number. Have you made any friends here yet?”

“No, not really,” you admit as you hand her your phone, hoping she doesn’t find that lame.

She hands it back to you a moment later with a smile, “Well, now you have. I gotta go now, but I’ll see you on Monday, y/n.”

“Oh, okay. See you then,” you say, waving back at her as she walks away. You look at the new contact to see her name is Dahyun, feeling grateful that she was so nice to you. A small part of you wants to be skeptical of it, and questions why she would befriend you when she doesn’t know you, and you reason it’s probably because of that.

Seeing as you can’t go to the shop, you decide to walk back home, giving the crime scene a final nervous glance before you turn around.

When you reach your neighborhood, you see a grey tabby cat up ahead. You try to approach it slowly so it doesn’t run away. The cat doesn’t seem to notice you and wanders onto your neighbor’s yard, its tail swaying behind it gracefully. You realize that this must be your neighbor’s cat, and you know you shouldn’t just walk onto his property but you can’t resist how cute his cat is. After all, just quickly petting her wouldn’t be so bad, right?

You follow the feline onto the yard, and she meows when she finally notices you. She doesn’t move away when you walk a little closer, only stands still as she swishes her tail slowly. Her chartreuse eyes examine you as you kneel down next to her before she takes a step toward you. You’re smiling the whole time, excited to be able to pet the pretty cat, or at least get very close to petting it.

“Hi, kitty,” you coo.

From the porch, Jimin sees you kneeling on his lawn, your open hand held out in front of you. The young man watches with interest as you patiently let the neighborhood cat sniff your fingers, an adoring smile gracing your lips. His own lips quirk at the sight, finding the interaction cute.

You gently pet the cat between the ears until she slowly retreats. Suddenly she lifts her head, meowing again more loudly and hauntingly, and you pull away slightly, your eyes wide. She lets another prolonged meow out and you stand to your feet, your eyes nervously scanning the area for witnesses to this strange ordeal. You’re met with the nonplussed stare of your neighbor and you gasp. He looks like he wants to say something, but you don’t allow him the chance because you bolt to your house, leaving the still yowling cat behind.

Jimin descends the steps of his porch and gives the tabby a questioning expression. “What was that?”

----

Almost every night since you moved in next door, the light from what Jimin presumed was your bedroom faintly bled through your curtains. The light would stay on until any time between 1 and 3 a.m.; hours he’s sure are unusual for most people. It isn’t as though the light bothers him. No, it doesn’t bother him at all. It’s just that he’s so curious. Are you reading? Doing homework? Are you afraid of the dark? It’s just another item on the list of things he wonders about you ever since the incident with the neighborhood cat.

Jimin had gone about a year without a neighbor on the right side of his house. He partly attributes this to why he’s interested in you, but he can’t deny he also finds you cute. But neither of those things makes him as curious as what happened. As much as he’d like to waltz over to your door and invite you over (or, if you were so inclined, be invited in by you) for a meal or  maybe some tea or coffee, the young man can already see the critical faces of his friends when they find out about such an interaction. They would shake their heads and remind him once again that he shouldn’t plan on getting close to you. He sighs. They’re too cautious.

You saw each other most days when one of you took out the trash or checked the mailbox and exchanged a few polite words. To talk to you properly just once isn’t risky, he assures himself. All he wants is to know more about you, about what might have caused the stray cat to freak out. Besides, living alone grows lonely and boring, and he has time to spare for one little interaction.

He finally moves away from his window, a look of interest and determination on his face as he shifts his gray curtain closed. ‘Until tomorrow’, he muses. 

[notreallyuseless]

Who’s left to trust (Part 10)

Previous [x] /// Next [x]

“Please! Don’t hurt my friend!”

Chase had acted on the spur of the moment, scared of what was happening to his friend. He had a firm grip on the other man’s arm, which didn’t seem to bother him as much as the pleading voice Chase used to talk to him. The stranger turned his head toward Chase, a mixture of sadness and anger in his eyes. His grip seemed to lessen on Andy’s shirt before he pushed him away from him. Chase scrambled to catch Andy to stop his fall.

“What are you doing here A̷͢n͏̵̷̨t̶̷͞͏͏í̷̴̡̛?”

Chase shook his head from left to right, rubbing his left ear. It was playing tricks on him. Sometimes, his ears would go deaf out of nowhere and it really bothered him. Andy had asked him a few times if he wanted to see a doctor for it, but Chase always refused. He feared them. He could remember clearly an appointment where his doctor had done some stupid things, trying to diagnose him with all the possible diseases or mental illnesses he could think of. The doctor had gone crazy by the end of it, even trying to strangle him. He wasn’t planning on going back soon.

“Chase? Come on, follow us buddy”, said Andy while nudging Chase’s side.

Snapping out of his mind, Chase followed the two other man, trailing behind them. They were talking in hushed voice between them and Chase felt very alone in this house. He felt like someone was looming over his shoulder, but no one was there. He didn’t know the other one, he did look similar but at this point, Chase never questioned this kind of thing. A damn cat reminded him of someone, but he couldn’t pinpoint who and it became more frustrating by the second. He stopped caring. He rubbed his arm together and looked around the house to keep his focus on something. The house seemed weird so far. Things were littering the floor in some room, like people were living here but had stop going in those room long ago. He only caught a glimpse of the kitchen, but it looked like some kind of fight happened there. A chill went up his spine at the thought. Maybe it was a drug dealer house. Why would Andy bring him to his dealer’s house? He tried to guess if the stranger was the drug dealer but even if he didn’t know him, he knew it wasn’t the kind of person he was. So, what was going on here? More importantly, why did Andy bring him here?

“Stop whining Jackie... I get Chase out of the picture like you asked me, you’re angry. I give you a villain to fight, you’re not happy. I make you look like the hero that’s going to save everyone and you decide to cry and get depressed. I bring Chase back and you’re still unhappy. Make up your damn mind for once!”

The man, named Jackie it seemed, stopped in his track and slammed Andy’s back to the wall, hissing in his face. Shocked, Chase was only able to look at what was happening, eyes wide. What was Andy talking about?

“I never, NEVER, wanted all of this to happen, do you hear me? You USED me when I was at my lowest, I felt like everything that was wrong in my life was because of OTHERS! And you USED MY WEAKNESS AGAINST MY FRIEND!”

“Boohoo, I’m weak. Boohoo, I’m a puppet.”, giggled Andy which prompted Jackie to punch him in the chin.

Andy went tumbling on the floor by the force of the punch and it scared Chase how strong Jackie had punched him. He shakily placed himself between Andy on the floor and the moving man in front of him, reaching a hand to stop Jackie from getting closer. He didn’t like how Andy had talked to Jackie, but he was his friend and he’d do anything for his friendś̷̡.

“Don’t...don’t you dare get closer to him”, whispered Chase, still shaking by fear.

Stunned, Jackie stopped walking and stared at him, frustration now the only emotion on his face. He gripped his hand by his side, like he was trying to stop himself for doing something he might regret.

“This man isn’t your friend, Chase! He’s a manipulator! The only thing he cares about is to mess with people. He’ll never have a friend and he’ll never be your friend. The only thing he knows how to do is to betray and use others. He’s alone and he’ll always be alone! He hurt people like he doesn’t care about...”

Chase had heard enough by now. The fear he felt before was soon replaced by anger. No one should talk like this to his friend. He stomped toward Jackie to close the distance between them and poked Jackie’s chest with his index finger.

“You don’t know anything about him! He’s not always the best at dealing with others, you’re right. Do you know why? He was abandoned and hated by his own family because of who he is. Can you imagine? He might have done something bad, by what I’ve tried to understand, something really bad, but have you ever thought about the fact that maybe, just maybe, acting this way is the only way he knows how to act?”

Jackie took a step back after hearing what Chase had to say about the whole situation. He looked shocked, more so than ever before, but Chase didn’t care. He turned his back to the other man and knelt down on the floor next to Andy.

“You OK, man?”

Chase placed a careful hand on Andy’s shoulder who jumped at the touch. He looked at Chase and nodded before looking away. Chase was concerned for his friend. He never acted like that. Andy was always full of energy and had a sarcastic comment about everything. Why did Andy look so...guilty? Did he do or say something he shouldn’t have? The only answer he got was a pat on the back and a helping hand to straighten up after Andy had stood up. Andy and Jackie looked at each other for a few seconds, which looked more like minutes to the fidgeting Chase next to them.

“Let me see the others.”

Without another word shared, the three man continued their way down the hallway. It was eerily quiet now that the other two stopped whispering. But it didn’t stay quiet for long. Two faint voices could be heard down the hallway, two similar voices arguing with each other. The three man stopped before reaching the source of the voices. Jackie looked at Andy, then at Chase before opening the door. There, on the bed, was a man with a bloody nose laying on it, looking like he was asleep. Andy only took one step into the room, looked at the laying man and hummed. Jackie stiffed next to him but decided to let the two visitors in. Chase rushed to the man and brushed the stranger’s hair out of his closed eyes. He didn’t know him, as far as his memory goes, but he felt concerned and sad for him. Was he OK? He brushed his hand over the makeshift bandage, hoping that he was alright. He turned to look at Jackie and Andy, both already staring at him, surprised by his actions.

“What’s his name?”

Jackie’s eyes went wide by Chase’s question. He turned his head to glare at Andy, who only shrugged his shoulders and shook his head.

“...his name’s Jamie... he...uh...had a friend he really liked to spend time with...but uh... he left.”

“Why did he leave?” asked Chase who lightly brushed his finger on the bowler hat on the nightstand. A small part of Chase felt calm around this man. He felt like he could spend hours with him, just playing silly card games. A sharp pain in his heart at the thought made him look up at Jackie who looked guilty.

“We had a fight. We uh...kind of kicked him out of the house because we’re stupid, I guess. I wish he would come back...like it was one big nightmare. His name was Ch-”

A loud noise stopped Jackie in his sentence. He turned to Andy, like he was expecting him to cut him off, but the other man was already looking back at him, still shrugging his shoulder. Jackie’s eyes went even wider than before and rushed out of the room, closely followed by Andy. It took Chase a couple more seconds to stand up and follow them, but not before holding Jamie’s hand in his and squeezing it.

“I promise we’ll find a way to help you... Jamie.”

He looked down at their hands, his shaking slightly. He felt like he should say something more. He couldn’t tell what, but he felt like he knew this man. Words were stuck in his throat. What did he wanted to say? He closed his eyes, took a deep breath and let them roll off his tongue.

“I swear we’ll go see this action movie you were so excited to see. We’ll drag everyone with us. We’ll make Hen...We’ll make all of them call sick, so we can go see it together...”

He didn’t know which movie he was talking about. He didn’t know who “everyone” was, but those words felt natural and easy to him, something he didn’t feel quite often lately. He removed his hand from Jamie’s and ran out the room to join the other two who were still standing before a door, talking to each other. The previous voices who were arguing were louder now that he was standing in front of it.

“Wow Jackie, I never thought you’d be smart enough to lock him up in your room.”

Jackie took a step toward Andy, fuming with anger but was stopped on his way by Chase who shot him a warning glance. No fighting. He sighs, mumbling something about Chase not taking the good side and pressed his hand against the door were the voice were speaking gibberish.

“I’m not letting you two see him.”

“Why? What do you mean ‘him’ ?”

“Marvin isn’t in his normal state. He’s kind of ...”

“Jackie Boy ~ Am I hearing...friends? Did you finally brought me some toys? ”

Banging on the door. Louder and louder after each hit.

“Come on! Come on! I wanna play with ‘em! Make ‘em float upside down until all the blood in their body goes to their tiny useless brain! Cut their limbs one by one with a dull blade! Bash their head open with a table leg! Oh! Oh I know! An idea no one thought of before!”

Nails scratching the door. High-pitched laughter. Marvin’s body slamming into the door.

“Cut their neck and make them choke on their own blood!”

Chase ran to the opposite wall and looked at the door, mortified. What was wrong with this person? What happened to the other one? He swears he heard two voices in there before. No way he’d go in this room, even if Jackie asked them. Andy walked toward the door and leaned his back against the door, looking at Jackie, smugly.

“Wow... I really surpassed myself.”

“Shut up for once.”

“No, seriously. I expected to make him feel paranoid and have nightmare. I didn’t want him to turn up crazy like...”

The banging on the door slowly lost intensity. When before it sounded like angry fist, now it sounded more like open palm sliding on the wooden door in desperation. Sobs soon replaced the laughs and Andy took a step sideway, looking at Jackie in confusion. The crying got stronger and the three man could faintly hear Marvin mumbling between each sob.

“I’m...i’m so sorry... I... I didn’t mean...it. I just want things to go back to normal... Why can’t we just live...live all together in peace...Forget everything that...went wrong and just...start over...”

Andy’s breath hitched in his throat. He looked away, his brow furrowed and shifted his weight from one leg to the other, looking very uncomfortable. Chase didn’t understand why he looked like that. Didn’t Andy want this man, Marvin, to be happy? Nothing in what he said should have make Andy react like that. He turned his attention to Jackie who was looking at his feet, squeezing and releasing his fist. He seemed deep in thought. The sobs had quieted down by now, only sniffed and ragged breath could be heard. He understood. This man was in war with himself. And he was hyperventilating. Chase got closer to the door and laid his palm on the door. He took a deep breath.

“Hey, listen to me, OK? I want you to calm down. We’re going to breathe in and out together.”

“I can’t... Chase I can’t...breathe...please...”

He was surprised for a split second. How...did he know his name? But the moment the question popped into his head, a whimper brought him back to what was happening. He clenched his fist on the door, his body screaming at him to open the damn door and hold the other man in his arm. He didn’t care about the way Jackie and Andy were looking at him. The crying man was his priority. He wouldn’t let himself live knowing that he didn’t help him.

“Just...listen. Close your eyes and focus on my voice. I need you to take the deep breath, the best you can right now. For now, they won’t be very deep. But you have to start somewhere. I don’t want you to be frustrated with yourself because you can’t breathe properly, because I know you’ll be. After each breath, it’ll be easier for you. Just trust me. Do you trust me?”

Saying these things were like a second nature for Chase. He didn’t know where this speech came from, but he was glad that Marvin followed his advice and tried breathing with him. It wasn’t hard to hear him breathe at the start, his breathing was mixed with tears and hiccups until it was back to normal. Chase sighed and rested his forehead on the door, the presence over his shoulder leaving. He turned back to Andy and Jackie who stayed behind and smiled at them. He opened his mouth but a body slamming against the door made him, and the other two, jump backward.

“Chase! Oh my god! Chase! Chase... Chase... oh my god... is it you? Chase, is it you? Is it really you? Are you back? Are you really back? I can’t believe it. Chase! Chase, I missed you so much.”

The crying was back, but now a kind of desperation was laced in his voice. Chase was stunned. He “came back”? He knew Marvin? He turned back to Jackie who was already looking back at him. When they met eyes, Jackie turned his glance to the wall, his lips tightly shut. Chase then turned to Andy who had his back turned to him. No one was helping him? He got closer to the door and laid his hand once again on the door.

“I...I’m sorry Marvin? I’m...not the Chase you’re looking for... I wish I could help you but... I’m not...that Chase. I hope he...comes back soon.”

The crying soon mixed with a bitter laugh, which broke Chase’s heart in half. He wished he could help Marvin find this “Chase”.

“Why Chase... You wanted me to trust you. I TRUSTED you! When I have no one left to trust, why did you betray me too! I believed you were back...why...”

Soon enough, the banging was back on the door and each hit on the door was like a hit on Chase’s heart. He tried hard not to cry in front of the other two. He stood up, feeling more defeated than ever. He tried to help him, but it only made him go deeper into his crazy mind. Jackie shook his head and sighed, a part of him had hope it would have worked. He signed them to follow him away from Marvin’s door and they all followed suit, no one daring to talk about what happened. They were in line, Chase walking behind Jackie who had his shoulder slumped and in front of Andy who, when Chase looked back at him, still looked uncomfortable. Jackie stopped in front of another door and turned back to Andy and Chase.

“You might be able to tell me what’s wrong with Henrik. I don’t expect you to help me. I just...want to know what happened.”

Andy shrugged his shoulder and hummed, kind of agreeing with Jackie. He placed his hand on the door handle, took a deep breath and opened the door. He took a step in the room, followed closely by Chase and Andy who slammed into his back when he stopped in his track. Chase looked past Jackie and saw a man standing up in the messy room, his back turned to them and wiping black ink on his scrubs. He picked up a broken mug on the floor and turned his attention to the three new people in the room. He seemed surprised before smiling at them

“The good doctor is back.”

_______________________________________

Tag: @huffle-dork, @chase-brody-protection-squad, @rand0m-stufff, @enakane, @splish-splash-im-trash, @cryptvokeeper, @dragonfliesarecool, @thisrandomperson102, @katie-g-septic, @1esor2, @egopocalypse, @narutofoxlover, @vity-dream, @spicydanhowell, @way-ward-soul

[qqueenofhades]

the tangled web of fate we weave

This is highly self-indulgent because I, an extremely stressed-out final-year history PhD student, needed extremely stressed out final-year history PhD student Lucy Preston and also Garcy, because I always need that. 

This is an unofficial sequel to this, where Flynn was the one to save Lucy from the car accident in her sophomore year. 

March 19, 2010

It’s Friday, and it’s the first time all week that Lucy Preston has seen the sunset. Possibly in two weeks, for that matter, or more. She has been shut up in the library since what feels like the start of the new year, buried in her carrel among an endless stack of books, articles, notes, photocopied primary sources, her overworked laptop, her three thumb drives (someone else in the department has a horror story about their computer dying five days before submission, and Lucy isn’t taking any chances), a rotation of takeout cups and sandwich wrappers from the library café, and whatever other sustenance she needs to keep going. She’s rented a campus studio apartment, otherwise she would probably be sleeping in the stacks in the basement. Be way too much hassle to try to commute back and forth to Mom’s house in Mountain View otherwise.

The Stanford campus is cool and blue and quiet, and Lucy leans against the outside library wall, rubbing her eyes and trying to get them to focus. They don’t seem to want to. She turned twenty-seven two months ago, and feels about eighty-one. It’s been a nonstop grind of work, from that moment she nearly died seven years ago, almost exactly to the day – that was the twenty-first of March, 2003, she’s never forgotten. Dumped Jake, abandoned her plans of joining a band, enrolled for junior year of history, finished, graduated, went straight onto her master’s degree that fall, and now, the fact that the end might actually be in sight is one Lucy cannot wrap her head around. It feels surreal and dreamlike.

Overachiever that she is, her PhD is being conferred jointly by two departments, history and anthropology, which means her dissertation is at least one and a half times longer than everyone else’s. She’s teaching HIST1210 on the Civil War and HIST1300 on primary sources, she still has papers to mark from both, and she needs to update her CV and apply for research funding for the conferences she submitted paper prospectuses to. And think, again, about the future. Even having a mother who basically invented the Stanford women’s studies department isn’t a guarantee that she’ll get a job, even if it does pitch her odds a lot better than most people’s. Lucy has already had most of her tuition paid by Carol Preston’s institutional pull, and she can’t help but wonder where the gravy train stops. She likes to think that she’s smart enough that she’d have earned scholarships on her own merit anywhere, but why go anywhere else, when it’s Stanford, for God’s sake? Not Jim Bob Jones Community College.

After a long pause, Lucy straightens up, swings her bag to her shoulder (she leaves most of her stuff in her carrel overnight) and starts down the path. She’s wondered if now might be an opportune moment to develop a drinking habit, but her anxious mind won’t let her. One near-fatal car crash was bad enough, after all. No need to push her luck with a second.

(She thinks again of the man who rescued her. Just dove in, no hesitation at all, and fished her out, told her not to quit history for a boy, and vanished. She never got a name.)

(Is he pleased, then, that she threw herself in headfirst? Is that what he wanted? Not that it matters. Not that that is the reason she’s doing this.)

Lucy comes to a halt in front of the beige-stucco residence halls and digs for her keys, wondering how obnoxious her neighbors feel like being tonight. This is postgrad housing, supposedly quiet, but the way they go at it, you’d think it was undergraduate party central. Lucy has been over to bang on their door at 1AM a few times, and she could complain to the office, but – again, Lucy Good Girl Preston – she shirks from the idea of actually getting anyone in trouble. She’ll be out of here soon anyway, moving on. She can endure it, she can –

“Good evening, Lucy.”

She almost has a heart attack. Drops her keys and fumbles for them madly in the dimness, having some panicky idea that it’s someone jumping out of the bushes to put a bag over her head and drag her off behind a dumpster. Yes, it seems odd to politely address her by her first name beforehand, but who knows? It’s a man’s voice, gravelly and accented, almost familiar. But it’s been at least two years between boyfriends, it’s not any of her professors (and it would be more than a little creepy to follow her home) and –

She whirls around, gets a good look at his face in the portico light, and feels momentarily faint. She was, of course, just thinking about him, and wonders half-seriously if she’s charmed up him up like a djinni. He looks exactly how she remembers: tall, dark hair, sharp-nosed profile, though this time he is not dripping wet, having not had to dramatically dive into the Bay to save her from her sinking car. He’s wearing the leather bomber jacket and a nice pair of jeans, has his thumbs linked casually through his belt like a Grease extra, but it comes off casually competent and slightly chilling. She also remembers what she thought about him last time, that instant response to high-pressure situations might be something he deals with a lot. What the –

“You,” she says at last, having managed to unstick her tongue from the roof of her mouth. “What are you doing here? How did you – how did you know where to find me?”

He has apparently been prepared to remind her how they know each other, but sees at once that he doesn’t have to. He shrugs. “I know people.”

That’s not exactly a reassuring answer. Lucy clutches her bag closer, as if he’s really come here for the $3.20 in her wallet and her backup thumb drives. “Have you been stalking me?”

He looks amused, but only briefly. “We should get inside.”

Lucy goggles at him, not least at his apparent presumption that she’s going to ask him into her house, but something makes her do as told. Hands trembling for no good reason, she taps her key card, buzzes them in, and climbs the stairs to her second-story apartment. She can hear the thumping of rap music before she even reaches the hallway – yep, her neighbors are at it again. Trying to ignore it, not least because she suddenly has bigger problems, she reaches into her bag for her phone, trying to dial a 9 and 1 without him noticing. But why would the man who saved her life want to kill her?

His eyes flick to her hand. “You don’t need to call the police, Lucy.”

“Don’t need to, or you would prefer that I didn’t?” Lucy refuses to budge. “There’s a difference.”

He looks admiring of her bravery, if irritated at the timing. “Don’t need to. Go inside, I’ll be along.”

Lucy debates dialing the last 1 with her thumb. Or campus security, they could probably get here faster. But – weird as this is, and as he is – something stops her. He slowly removes his hands from his belt and holds them up, then opens his jacket to show her that he isn’t packing heat inside. There is, however, a holster as if he usually does, and he reaches into his back pocket, pulls out a slim black case, and flips it open, holding it out. It’s a U.S. government ID. Gives his name as Garcia Flynn.

“Okay,” Lucy says, a little weakly. “Why didn’t you lead with that?”

Garcia Flynn doesn’t bother to answer this perfectly reasonable question, making another gesture at her apartment. Lucy goes inside, puts down her bag on the couch, and feels like collapsing onto it. Next door, the music continues unabated for a few more moments, until it abruptly cuts off. The silence is blessed, but suspicious. She hears voices, but can’t make out what they’re saying. Then her front door opens again, she jumps, and Flynn enters, looking smug. “That’s better.”

“You didn’t kill my neighbors, did you?” Lucy isn’t sure they wouldn’t deserve it, but that is obviously not a man she wants to be alone with. Not that she knows how he would kill three people in thirty seconds with no noise, but. . . it’s the sort of thing that doesn’t seem out of his ability. “Or – ”

“I didn’t kill anyone.” He seems somewhat aggravated that she keeps harping on this point. “I’m not here to hurt you, Lucy.”

Lucy remains looking at him tensely, but he returns her gaze forthrightly, and she finally lets out a whisper of a breath. “What’s going on?”

“That’s complicated.” Flynn is prowling around her living room, tapping and shaking things, picking them up and turning them over, in a way that seems – to say the least – out of line in a perfect stranger’s house. Maybe Lucy’s watched too many spy movies recently, switches on whatever looks halfway interesting on Netflix and vegs out, but it looks a lot like sweeping for bugs. He takes a small silver thing that looks like a coin out of his pocket and sets it on her bookshelf. “I’m not sure you’d understand.”

“I’m a PhD student,” Lucy says, voice brittle. “I’m pretty sure I’d understand.”

Flynn glances up at her, one eyebrow raised, but doesn’t answer. He presses something on the silver thing, which hums as if to disrupt any nearby listening equipment, and finally seems satisfied that her shithole student flat is in the clear. “So you kept up with history?”

“Yes. And I’m due to submit my dissertation in about two weeks, my supervisor is supposed to email me by Monday with my oral exam date, half the committee is from Harvard, and I just spent thirteen hours reading nineteenth-century handwriting. So you better make this quick.”

Flynn half-grins, seemingly despite himself. “A PhD at – what, twenty-seven,” he says. “That’s very impressive. You’ve worked hard.”

Lucy doesn’t want to accept the praise of a possibly crazy government operative, but it makes her glow, a little. Her mom always wants to know how much more she still has to do, as if keeping a timetable in her head and marking her off, and of course Amy is encouraging, but Lucy has kept her nose to the grindstone so long that she’s barely picked it up to look at the rest of the world. She doesn’t even know what she’s doing, other than that she has to do it. She does love history. She really does. You don’t get this far without it, and you have to enjoy the tedious parts (well, mostly), even if you’re re-reading your draft and shouting at your first-year self because they didn’t put in page numbers, thus obliging you to go grumbling to hunt them down. She is damn and justifiably proud of this accomplishment, and she doesn’t need anyone, much less FBI Freddy here, to tell her that. But still.

“Never mind that,” she says. “Why are you here?”

Flynn regards her for a long moment. Then he says, “Scientia potentia est. You’ve heard that?”

“It’s Latin,” Lucy says, a little shortly. She is not up for having a fright, and her time wasted, for something he could have typed into Google Translate. “It means knowledge is power.”

“Yes, I know that.” Flynn sits across from her, looking too big for her secondhand armchair. “It’s also a motto. Have you seen it anywhere?”

“No.” A phrase as banal as that could be a motto for dozens of private schools. “Mr. Flynn, I’m afraid I can’t – ”

“Very well.” He sits forward, gripping his knees. “Rittenhouse, Lucy. Have you ever heard of that?”

“Rittenhou – David Rittenhouse?” Lucy is vaguely familiar with him, a leading intellectual of the eighteenth century, polymath and professor of astronomy at the University of Pennsylvania, and correspondent and cohort of the Founding Fathers. Has Flynn come here to ask for help with some research project, some kind of sponsorship some historical society is doing to raise awareness of his life? That at least might make more sense. “Is that what we’re talking about?”

The expression on Flynn’s face seems to say that he momentarily isn’t sure. “So he founded it?”

“What?” Lucy gets up, not entirely sure that she isn’t asleep atop a stack of books back at her carrel, drooling on her notes. “Founded what?”

“The society in his name. Rittenhouse. Scientia potentia est. That’s their motto.”

“There is no society in his name. Unless you mean the astronomy club?”

“I don’t mean the astronomy club. The other one.”

“Is this a – ” Lucy isn’t sure what it would be, some extended performance-art practical joke, perhaps, but he doesn’t look like he’s trying to prank her. Besides, why would an eighteenth-century astronomer have anything to do with why Flynn wanted to sweep her apartment for bugs? “I work more on the nineteenth century than late colonial-early federal America, but if you have some kind of question about him, I can recommend someone in the department to – ”

“I’m not asking anyone else,” Flynn says brusquely. “I’m asking you.”

“Well then. You’re in the wrong place, I can’t help. I don’t have time.” Lucy gets up, pacing toward the kitchen. Flynn remains seated, but she can feel his eyes following her. She runs a glass under the tap and takes a drink, then returns to the living room, as if this will somehow have fixed the problem. “What do you want to know about him for? There’s Wikipedia, there’s whatever else, there’s – ”

“Nothing of what I want is available online.” He says this with the tone of somebody who’s looked – and NSA Nicky probably has. “You, though – I thought there was a chance you might. Given who your father is – ”

“What?” Lucy’s father died almost nine years ago. Lung cancer. The reason she won’t take up smoking either, that and the way her mother’s been coughing a lot and she’s urged her to get it checked out. She feels slapped. “My father’s dead.”

“Henry Wallace?” Flynn shakes his head. “No, not him. I meant your biological father.”

“What?”

He pulls a slip of paper out of his pocket and holds it out to her, but Lucy does not budge to take it. In a savage whisper, she says, “You need to leave.”

Flynn belatedly seems to realize that it might not have been the best time to bring this up. He opens his hand and lets the paper flutter onto the floor, but doesn’t move to retrieve it. He gets to his feet instead, eyes never wavering from hers. He is just so damn intense in everything he does, it makes Lucy feel like she’s on the inside of a forge, burning, burning. “Very well.”

With that, he starts across the floor, but seems reluctant to go entirely. Any other person would apologize for the intrusion, or tell her to be careful, but he doesn’t. “Ask your mother about your father,” he says. She can’t tell if his eyes are green or brown – in some lights they look one, in some lights the other. He looks at her challengingly. “Ask him if he is who you thought.”

Lucy’s about to respond, but just then, headlights waver on the ceiling through her half-closed curtains, and she looks down to see a car pulling into the parking lot. It’s the sort of nondescript black sedan that screams shady government business, and she might have thought it was Flynn’s ride, but after he strides to the window and looks out, his mouth goes very thin. He jerks the curtains shut, reaches into his jacket, and remembers he’s left his gun off in a bid not to alarm her. He swears in something that sounds Slavic; Lucy can’t be sure exactly what. It fits with the accent and appearance, but he had a U.S. badge – unless that was some kind of forgery and –

Flynn whirls back to the silver gizmo he has, switches it off, and pulls something else out of his jacket that kills the lights. Then he takes hold of Lucy – it feels much too forward, even as she remembers him pulling her out of the water – and tugs her flat on the floor. “Don’t open the door,” he hisses. “You’re not home.”

Lucy is about to struggle, to ask questions, but the look he gives her is so searing that she bites her tongue instead. She can hear footsteps on the stairs, then a knock on her door. “Miss Preston?” a voice calls. “It’s FedEx.”

She’s pretty sure it isn’t FedEx. She and Flynn lie close together on the floor, his arms still around her, the lights off and the apartment dark. Are they going to go look at the library next, or just assume she’s out having a life like an ordinary twenty-seven-year old woman would on Friday night? She tries to concentrate, to slow her breathing, as if they could hear it. The thump of Flynn’s heart seems distractingly loud, though her ear is pressed directly against his chest. He is so tall that if they were standing, her head would tuck easily under his chin. What is it about him and appearing out of nowhere to get her out of – or into – life-threatening situations?

The faux FedEx man knocks again. They don’t budge. Lucy has to admit, it is more than a little freaky that this has happened right after Flynn has turned up talking about secret societies and – whatever else, and it unwillingly makes her think that there might be something to his story. Oddest of all, however, is the fact that it almost feels familiar to lie next to him, not just because he saved her life. Like it’s something else, and she just has to remember what.

After a long pause and one last knock, the fake deliveryman departs. Flynn doesn’t let go of Lucy until several minutes after they’ve heard the car pull out, he’s looked through the window to make sure, and swears again. “That is the last time I leave my gun at home.”

Lucy sits up slowly, rattled. “Are you going to tell me that was Rittenhouse?”

“Might be.” Flynn speaks distractedly, eyes still on the parking lot. “I don’t suppose you carry?”

“I’m a history student.” Lucy has never wanted to touch a gun in her life, especially since she plans on being a professor. “No.”

“Of course.” His brow remains furrowed, as if he’s judging the advisability of leaving her alone long enough to go back and get his own. Finally he says, “I think it’s better for me to stay here tonight.”

Lucy opens her mouth to tell him that he can’t invite himself to stay the night, but the words get stuck. Despite herself, she is scared. Nonstop dissertation anxiety and crushing uncertainty about the academic job market almost seem preferable. “What’s going on?”

“I don’t know.” Flynn turns slowly, the dim light from outside etching the sharp features of his face. “They could have guessed something about what I knew, or. . . I’m not sure. It could blow over, but I’d feel better about it to stay. Just for tonight.”

“And then what?” Lucy demands. “I can’t go into witness protection, just because of whatever stupid thing you got me into! I have to finish my dissertation!”

“You can do that, Lucy.” He looks at her frankly. “I’ll protect you.”

Whatever she is about to say withers on her tongue. After all, isn’t that what he did – the first time, and then now? She doesn’t know what’s going on, he has been an enigma in a bomber jacket ever since she met him – seven years ago, technically, does it count to have known him for seven years, if it’s only been one night and this one? That did freak her out. As strange and unwise as it might be, she would in fact feel better if he stayed. Not that her sagging yellow-plaid couch, older than her, which she picked up at a garage sale for $12, is exactly comfortable to sleep on. She can’t believe she’s thinking about this, but –

Flynn, still clearly ruing his lack of a firearm, makes another check around her apartment, then sits back down on the couch. It’s about half as long as he is, and his legs will clearly be dangling over the end. Lucy has no obligation of hospitality, and in fact is sorely wishing she left the library at her normal time of eleven o’clock PM. Then she wouldn’t have run into him (unless he let himself in to wait for her) and this would not be happening. It’s not that late, and ordinarily she might get into bed and watch something on her laptop, but her concentration is shot. She heads into her bedroom, shuts the door, and changes into her pajamas, then goes to the bathroom and washes her face several times, staring at herself in the mirror. She still appears to be real. Somehow, this is happening. Maybe it will stop doing that.

Lucy brushes her teeth and hair, and mulls a long bath, but it feels awkward with a NSA (she thinks he’s NSA, at any rate) agent sitting in her living room, even one ostensibly there to protect rather than spy on her. She goes out and climbs into bed, tugs the covers up, and lies there for a long time, staring at the ceiling. Every time a car pulls into the parking lot, she tenses. Keeps listening for footsteps on the stairs, a knock on the door, but nothing.

Lucy eventually drifts off, has scattered and turbulent dreams, and wakes with a start sometime past midnight. She gets up in search of a drink of water, and when she peers into the living room, sees that Flynn has dozed off on the couch, still dressed and sitting up. Something wrenches in her heart, she can’t even explain what, and she pads out. Taps on his shoulder, and he wakes instantly, snapping to awareness, in what must be a long-honed reflex. When he sees it’s her, he relaxes, if only slightly. “Is something wrong, Lucy?”

Her name sounds softer in his mouth than it did earlier. Less as if it’s coming from a stranger, and Lucy shakes her head. “No, it’s fine. It’s. . . you just didn’t look very comfortable.”

“I’m all right.” He grimaces, though he tries not to let her see. “It’s not the worst place I’ve slept.”

“Thank you,” Lucy says simply. “For staying.”

He starts to say something, then forgets or stops halfway through. Their eyes meet with a frisson that Lucy is fairly sure both of them feel. There is a touch of destiny about the idea that they’ve run into each other seven years apart almost to the day, that he saved her life the first time and is making sure he does again. Trying to be unobtrusive, she glances down at his left hand. He isn’t wearing a wedding band, but she doesn’t know if there’s someone else in his life anyway. Not that this is remotely her business. She’s not interested in dating him. For Pete’s sake.

(She isn’t altogether sure, however, that she isn’t interested in something else.)

She considers a moment longer. Then she decides that he can take it however he wants, and says, “Come on.”

Flynn looks almost comically startled as she beckons him to his feet. He hangs back, then follows her into the dark bedroom, her covers still tousled and warm with the imprint of her, her sheets glowing soft white in the murk. It’s clear he’s wondering if he’s supposed to climb in with her, and it is equally clear that he isn’t sure if he’ll refuse. “Lucy – ”

“Look, just. . .” This isn’t her style. Lucy Good Girl Preston. She has never had sex on a first date, this does not even qualify as a first date, and similarly, she likes nice men. Genuinely nice ones, that is, the smart and thoughtful ones with a grown-up job who she can talk to and feel supported. Whatever Flynn is, he is not nice. “It’s a queen bed. There’s room.”

Flynn continues to hesitate. Finally, he shucks his shoes, jacket, and belt, and gets on top of the covers next to her. The bedsprings creak under his weight, and even here, his feet extend a few inches past the end of the mattress. Lucy lies there with her eyes closed, well aware that she knew she wasn’t going to get back to sleep with this unfamiliar masculine presence on her bed, fighting herself back and forth. She thought he was here to possibly throw her into the trunk of a car or whatever else, it is – to say the least – concerning that she is now considering, well, the opposite. Her mouth is dry. It has been two years since Noah and as noted, she doesn’t do one-night stands. She doesn’t think Flynn is horrified or repelled by her. Oh God, this is stupid.

After fifteen minutes of increasingly excruciating feigned-sleep, Lucy gives up the ghost. Sits up fast enough to startle him, and she feels guilty, as if she’s somehow the one jerking him around by all this. They stare at each other, faces close in the dark. She can feel the whisper of his breath on her cheek. In this light, his eyes look almost hazel. His tongue darts out to touch his lips, almost unconsciously, and he shifts as if to ease the fit of his trousers. “Lucy – ”

Slowly, lightly, timidly, Lucy raises her hand and brushes her fingers across his chest, to the unbuttoned neck of his shirt. A shudder runs through him – well, no, he doesn’t look repulsed. It seems to take a great deal of self-control for him not to reach up and grab her hand, but not because he doesn’t want her to touch him. Just that this is a man used to controlling everything, to setting parameters, establishing boundaries. Sweeping for bugs. Making sure it’s clear. He takes the lead by temperament and occupation. That’s just who he is. And yet –

Lucy’s fingers settle in the hollow of his throat. She can feel his pulse bumping against them like a jackhammer, the way both of them have forgotten how to breathe, noses almost brushing. If she kissed him right now, if she actually did that – it would be one way to relieve her stress, an unhelpful little voice whispers in her brain. And then possibly cause any number of other things, but still. If he’s meant to be here somehow, if they’ve been led together again for some greater plan. . . Lucy isn’t religious, exactly, but she finds herself believing in some sort of unity, some kind of intention. Maybe it comes from being a historian. Looking at how everything has fitted together and interlocked, built upon each other like a flowering vine, gone forward and backward. The big picture. That’s how she always looks at it.

This feels like that, but different. Something like design, maybe. If she wants to call it that. But really, a whole lot more like desire.

Flynn doesn’t try to pull away from her, but Lucy can’t tell if that’s just because he’s stunned that she’s the one making a move on him, after the way the night started out. She shifts her weight, absurdly self-conscious, feeling like a nervous, bespectacled seventeen-year-old all over again. Lifts her hand and lays it alongside his face, strokes a thumb over the groove alongside his mouth. Then, when he still doesn’t stop her, she leans closer.

Flynn recovers from his paralysis just enough to lean in himself, and they knock noses painfully, forcing them away with muffled exclamations. It seems to jerk them back to their senses, both of them apologizing at the same moment. Lucy’s cheeks start to flame. “I – we should – shouldn’t.”

If Flynn was feeling as dickish as she gets the sense he might usually be, he could easily point out that she was the one who thought they should. He, however, doesn’t. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, even though they didn’t actually kiss. “I’ll go back out.”

Lucy supposes that, strictly speaking, is a good plan. She doesn’t need to keep making this mistake, having been saved from it the first time around. Her voice is breathy and choked. “Ok – okay.”

Flynn glances back at her, then shifts himself off the bed, standing up and collecting his jacket and shoes. It’s on the tip of her tongue to tell him not to go, but if he stays here on the bed, something else is going to happen, and on the most brutally practical level, Lucy doesn’t have any condoms. They’re not something you need when you’ve been single for two years because your current relationship is with Abraham Lincoln (and in a less weird-cat-lady-way than that sounds). She wishes for once that she wasn’t so confoundedly rational. But still.

Once the door shuts behind him, she falls back on her pillows, flushed and breathing much harder than she should. All that, and she didn’t even get actually kissed for it. This night has been a total bitch.

(Dissertation, she reminds herself. Tomorrow is Saturday, and she needs to go grocery shopping and clean the house, but she can still do a little work.)

(Dissertation.)

Flynn’s face floats in front of hers. She has a hard time thinking that she’ll forget it again.

Out in the living room, the couch creaks as Flynn must sit back down to resume his lonely vigil, and Lucy clenches her fists, reminding herself that she is absolutely under no circumstances going to go out there instead. She rolls over into a more comfortable position, reaches for her phone to check the time – it’s 3:32 AM – and closes her eyes determinedly. Maybe he will be gone when she wakes up, and she will successfully convince herself that it was all a dream.

Finally, slowly, badly, she sleeps.