#these 9 seconds are gonna sustain me for WEEKS

[yulikitten]

Hey all, I'm gonna be streaming a Nintendo Wii classic that doesn't get as much attention as it should, tonight at 9:00 PM EST! Also, I am so sorry for not being as active as I should be. A lot of life things happened, including a breakup, dealing with that emotionally and now getting together with someone else. It's been... A looooooong month so far. I've also taken on two projects that I need to work on.

1, I am working on a PNG model that is going in the more... Furry direction that I am planning on using as an emote for sections of my second project.

2, I am currently streaming and recording footage for Trauma Center Second Opinion, as well as taking notes and writing a script for a video essay.

So... All in all, shit has been VERY busy over the last few weeks. And I do mean VERY busy. Like... Whoa... Anywho... I have a lot of stuff to work on and if you'd like to help sustain me, I will post my Cash app because my PayPal has my dead name and I'd rather not have people see that...

Thanks for reading this post. I'll try to be more active here and on YouTube. I'll post preview clips of my essay later this month and next month so I can give you all a taste of what I am working on. This is a HUGE undertaking, and depending on how it all plays out, I will immediately work on a video of the second Wii Trauma Center game. I'm sorry for not posting here a lot, but I promise to be far more active in the coming months.

Also, I am streaming tonight at 9:00 PM EST

[sawyingthroughthewasteland]

OCs as Horror Tropes Tag Game

I’m getting popular with these :) got tagged by @valentineenjoyer  link to quiz! gonna do this with Sawyer, but I am seeing my cowriter next week so maybe I’ll force her to help me with Baron also :) Sawyer J. Lockwood, General of the Minutemen, ex-mech pilot and a post-war gay with all the associated trauma with it:

Question 1: Pick a time of day. 

Sawyer is actually an early bird thanks to having been raised on a farm. His day starts right when the sun goes up and he starts crashing when it goes down. This drives his husband, who used to live in Alaska, absolutely insane.  Question 2: Introvert or Extrovert? Sawyer’s a mix- he’s got a really good charismatic face and cares deeply about the people he’s in charge of keeping safe but also gets grumpy often and wants his alone time. Preston is the same so the two tag-team when it comes to managing people. Question 3: How do you respond to feeling lonely? Man’s been lonely for most of his life. Father passed away when he was young and shortly after he’d grown apart from his mother while trying to find himself in a baptist community. During the war, he struggled to make friends as he preferred to spend his time studying or training so a lot of his loneliness was fought off with Baron- his lover in the USAF. As Sawyer was in the navy’s experimental branch, it wasn’t often they saw each other but when they did they were attached at the hip. During the time post-war when Sawyer thought Baron was dead, he was lonely as all hell and didn’t deal with it the best- largely internalizing it as justification for being the sole survivor. Thankfully Preston helped pry him out of his depression hole and finding a new lover in Danse helped as he blossomed as the General. When Baron surprised everyone by arriving with the second wave of the BoS to check in with Maxson’s sudden silence- the two quickly became inseparable (which is probably why Sawyer didn’t nuke the BoS off the face of the earth the moment they appeared over the horizon.)  Question 4: Pick a deadly sin.    Pride. He’s spent a lot of time rebuilding himself as well as the world around him to be a better place- and he’s learned over and over again he has to be protective of it or else others will want to change it to their liking. He always accounts for others and tries to help the greater good, but also is painfully aware how important appearances are in a leadership position. He’s super smart, but mostly in pre-war era things and often forgets things have changed- resulting in his plans often running straight into walls if his friends aren’t there to help him course correct.  Question 5: Pick a van gogh painting. Starry Night. He doesn’t get to enjoy night anymore with how busy he is and longs for a summer night under the stars in fucking peace.  Question 6: song lyric question “Oh lets get old fashioned / Back to how things used to be / if I get old, old fashioned / would you get old, old fashioned with me?”  He’s significantly happier post-war in a world where things make more sense to him (community building, being self sustaining, returning to a trade system, everyone helping each other with no expected repayment in return) and of course loves the minutemen but.... often mourns the pre-war era. Less the technology and society back then, more the fact that he hadn’t been in any shape to ever make the most of it.  When Baron returns, he almost gets a second chance at it- and it certainly helps now that he finally as someone who relates to him concerning the sudden time skip.  Question 7: Warm or cool colors? Cool! Man loves his blues and foresty colors :) Question 8: Early bird or night owl? See question 1 lol Question 9: Pick an excerpt. “A heart’s a heavy burden.” - Howl from Howl’s Moving Castle Post-war, man would it be easy for him to snap and not bother to help anyone. His unique skills make it easy for him to never have to rely on a community and he could’ve lived for decades without ever seeing anyone just out in the woods but alas- his heart is too big for his own good.  Question 10: Pick another painting. Hamlet, Alphonse Mucha. Neat style and Sawyer loves his classics (and relates to Hamlet a lot).  Question 11: Choose a tarot card.  The Lovers. A lot of Sawyer’s story is motivated by love: love for the Minutemen and all their people, love for Danse, love for his son, love for Baron, and of course love for all his other friends and companions.  Question 12: Why are you tired? “I have never known anything else. The exhaustion, the fatigue- it is as much apart of me as my bones and blood. I cannot imagine myself without it.” Question 13: What is worship? “It is destructive, and it is a weapon.”  Sawyer’s seen what’s happened with past politicians and leaders, and wants nothing to do with it. Also ~trauma~ makes bringing anything remotely religious into the same room as him immediately makes him not trust you. He believes firmly in that everyone should help everyone and no man is above another- everyone is equal and should be viewed as such and if not, deserve to be knocked down. Question 14: Choose something to take from my pockets. “a bracelet of multicolored beads”. As long as its established that the quiz creator is chill with him taking it- yea he’d like a pride bracelet :) Question 15: Feel free to tell me something! Did this for a tag game and really wish I noticed there was 15 questions before writing long answers to everything but oh well lmao Answer: 

Thank for for the tag Valentineenjoyer!  People imma tag: @kyngsnake @wastelandhell and if anyone else wants to join they can :) (yall don’t need to go as crazy as me on the answers, most just put the result of this I’m just insane)

[septemberrie]

Ok ok ok but did you see the Rivusa scene!!!☠️☠️☠️

I need to hear your take on it!! What do your think it means? What’s the plot? I looked at it on repeat for 2 days now!

Pls pls pls give me on of your top notch rambles!! And tell me I’m not the only one losing my head over this😳😳!!

anon!!! i will be honest when Mo shared that post I lost my head, literally did not send one more email that entire day, brain logged tf off except to put my clown makeup back on

((also "top notch rambles" asjkfjs thank you for the entirely underserved credit for the garbage that comes out of my brain!!!))

I can't remember all the threads people were pulling that day and a lot got tossed around so sorry if I am stealing this from someone in particular but here's a jumble of thoughts with no organization:

New Spec uniforms - from Rosalind? Nay, I submit that they come from Andreas, who obvs has a compulsion to look extremely sexy as he overhauls Saul's training regime 😌. The new curriculum is gonna be way more combat-focused, on both the magic side and the Specialist side, from our little glimpses of Andreas and what Luna's ideas of teaching should be.

But the real question is he mind controlled here or is he not?

If he's still being mind controlled I need Musa to be playing dumb (bc obviously she'd know) but by playing along she lures him into a false sense of security and she might be able to pick up clues/information to relay back to the rest of the Winx. She pads his ego by telling him what a strong sexy fighter he is and can he teach her. Then at the opportune moment, Musa undoes Rosalind's mind control in time for him to join Sky & the Winx in the battle against Rosalind.

If he's not being mind controlled, I want Beatrix blackmailing him at every turn, taunting him that he's playing toy soldier and isn't a real player in the game. Riven takes out his frustration with training and Musa, wanting to keep up with the new curriculum, inserts herself into his regimen for reasons noted above. Training with Musa represents a productive outlet for his helplessness and gives him back a modicum of control of his life again.

And the headcanon from @onlyhereforangst that made me scream: if they're prepping for a battle and when battle comes, and they're fighting alongside each other, then I need Riven to get hurt and I need Musa to help him, drop everything and run to him, falling to her knees and taking his pain away, absolutely 0 hesitation--in direct opposition to her running away from Sam & not being able/willing to take his pain (until plot I guess ugh) in the s1 finale.

GIVE ME ALL THE PARALLELS THAT MAKE RIVUSA >> SAMUSA!!

[rabbits-of-negative-euphoria]

trying to resist the urge of starting all over by setting huge and immediate resolutions I’ll never be able to sustain

[thefirstknife]

Hot take but I'm enjoying the new matchmaking in Control and anyone who says otherwise is an elitist, I'm gonna die on this hill

I am a huge proponent of skill based matchmaking and hated when they announced its removal (in Arrivals). Crucible matchmaking was miserable for me from then until now, so I'm on board with this absolutely.

Today's TWAB also had some interesting statistics about the first week of skill based matchmaking being in Control:

In the first week of Season of Plunder, 140,000 more hours of Control had been played than in the first week of Season of the Haunted, and we had around an 11% increase in the total number of players playing Control. 

This is self evident, but clearly people play more Crucible (and they play more of it) when they aren't absolutely miserable in it. If Crucible is not geared towards the average player, the player pool will be too low and that is not sustainable for a healthy pvp experience. Average players are by far the biggest population of players.

Overall, our average matchmaking times went up by an average of 5 to 10 seconds. That's a good indication that the matching is generally working but isn't showing our worst cases—the lower population segments (extreme low and high skill). 

For the highest skill band, less than 0.1% of the population, matchmaking times average around 90 seconds during high population times, spiking to just over 200 seconds at low population times. For the lowest skill band, we see matchmaking times between 120 seconds at best and 240 seconds at worst. 

Obviously this increased matchmaking time, but the increase is negligible on average. It gets "high" only for 0.1% of the population on either end of the spectrum which, as frustrating as that may be for the 0.1% of the players, it's not something that should dictate how the other 99.9% play. At worst, the matchmaking time was 4 minutes, for the lowest skill bracket. This is far from a huge disaster people like to make it out to be (I've played games where matchmaking could be 20 minutes on average).

The skill differences we see in Control matches are pretty stark. Without SBMM, only 10% of matches had 600 or less skill difference between the highest and lowest players. With SBMM on, we see that 80% of games have that separation or less.

If you ever think you're making things up or elitists gaslight you, they are wrong. This isn't the first time they showed how much difference there is between skill. Games are now provably and evidently more uniform in terms of who you play with and who you play against. It should be extremely rare to get into a lobby with someone vastly above you or below you in skill. Which is how it should be. Huge skill difference between players in a single lobby has always felt bad in either direction for me: I don't like being stomped and I don't like stomping others. I would rather sit in menus matchmaking for 2 minutes instead of loading into a match that ends just as quickly and that makes me feel miserable.

If your games seem more balanced, it's because they are. If they felt horribly balanced before, it's because they were.

Mercy games are down 4%. Not as much as we had hoped, but it has been shrinking a little day by day. 

Also interesting! They added some extra info about this which is also cool to explore, but basically there is less mercy games and they expect that to go lower still.

As far as score and kill differences, we see a similar set of incremental improvements. Games where the best player had 30+ kills more than the worst player went from 9% of games to 2%. Games where the best player had only 10 to 19 more kills than the worst player went from 35% of games to 55%. 

Another good piece of info that makes me feel less like I've just been insane for 2 years and angry about elitists trying to convince me that I am insane. Clearly I am not (or rather, I am not insane about this at least). I was sick and tired of games like this. Where two people in the lobby on each team are duking it out and I'm basically an NPC on the field with 3 kills because I die as soon as I spawn so the top players can have 57 kills.

We have seen one worrying trend in the data: the percentage of players quitting before the end of the match has risen from 8% to 12% in the last week. This is especially bad with matches designed to be balanced with 12 equally skilled players. We are still investigating to see if this is localized to a specific cohort or playstyle, or if this is a natural player reaction to a new system. This percentage  may reduce over time. Stay tuned!  

Finally, this piece of info. Bungie is obviously still investigating this and the most logical reason for this situation is now that connection based matchmaking is gone, people may be getting disconnected or may be leaving if their match is laggy.

However, my first thought (and one of Bungie's thoughts!) was that people are leaving games because they don't want to bother playing if they can't stomp new lights in Control. I genuinely think this and I will continue to believe that is the primary reason for leavers, due to my extensive experience with other competitive pvp games and modes, until Bungie proves me otherwise. People who are used to getting everything they want and stomping over lower skilled players get VERY upset when that is taken from them and when they have to play against people of their own skill level and be faced with the reality that maybe they just aren't that good and were just shooting fish in a barrel. These people tend to be the most salty leavers I have ever seen in any video game. I do honestly believe this accounts for most people leaving matches.

Got a bit long, but your ask was a nice opportunity to dive into some of this from the TWAB! Hopefully things get better and better as we go forward.

[quindolyn]

Kisses Hello, Kisses Goodbye and All of the Kisses In Between || Remus Lupin

Word Count: 1458

Notes: I’m working on your requests I swear I just don’t know if I will be able to write a lot this weekend so you get this tiny blurb to hopefully tide you over. If it’s any consolation what so ever, it physically pained me to write this, but now I’m also riding a high that will sustain me for an indefinite amount of time so expect more angst in the future.

Warnings: angst, kisses, jily death mentions, sirius death mentions, sickeningly canon

Masterlist

When Remus and you started dating you always greeted each other with kisses, a kiss on the lips, a kiss on the forehead, a kiss on the nose, a kiss on the knuckles. In private, your kisses delved beneath clothes, tracing his scars with your lips, leaving kisses on the insides of each other's thighs, along the curves of each other’s spines.

During your time at Hogwarts, you’d come down from his dormitory where’d you fallen asleep in his arms but awoken mere hours later to an otherwise empty bed. Finding him half asleep on one of the couches in the Gryffindor Common Room, curled up with his History of Magic textbook in his hands. You’d wrap your arms around his broad shoulders, pressing a gentle kiss to his temple, murmuring a gentle plea for him to return to bed in his ear.

Both during and after Hogwarts Remus would never leave for a full moon without giving you a kiss, in case it was, Godric forbid, the last time he’d get to. And when you saw him in the morning, even if he wasn’t awake yet you’d press kisses to his lips, dusting the entirety of the canvas of his face with feather-light kisses, along his lashes, against his cheekbones, up and down the bridge of his nose.

Kissing him “Hello” again when he finally pried his eyes open, blinking as he lazily opened his eyes, wincing as the harsh sunlight of the morning coming through the windows flooded his irises. 

Kisses goodnight, wrapped in each other’s arms, legs intertwined with your head pressed against his chest, listening to the rhythmic beat of his heart while he found comfort in the crown of your head. 

“It’s been too long kisses”, tender without diluting any of the passion the both of you poured into them, reuniting on Platform 9 ¾ after spending the summer apart from each other, willing every second to pass more quickly so you could see your Remmy again, and he you.

Celebratory kisses, colliding in the hallway after finishing your OWLs and then eventually your NEWTs. Him taking you in his arms and lifting you off the ground, twirling you in a circle before setting you down on the floor and brushing the hair out of your face to press a kiss to your widow’s peak.

“Please don’t die kisses” before either of you left for a mission for the order, willing whatever divine powers that may be that your lover would make it back to you safe and sound, that you would see each other again. That this wasn’t the end.

Kisses to tell the other that you loved them, even before the two of you said the words aloud because you were too young. Too scared.

“I can’t believe you’re mine” kisses at the end of the ceremony of your wedding, in the car on the way to the reception, during your first dance, all night long at the hotel suite the two of you decided on. And of course, all throughout your week-long honeymoon, splayed across the warm sand of the beaches of Bora Bora.

“I’m scared kisses” the night before the two of you graduated from Hogwarts as you climbed into his arms where he laid on the velvet furniture of the common room. When the Ministry passed increasingly restrictive laws against werewolves. When James and Lily were murdered. Then Peter. And you learned that it had been Sirius responsible for the whole thing. 

Padfoot.

It couldn’t have been.

When you couldn’t get your hands on Harry, and instead he was forced to live with his dreadful aunt and uncle.

You and Remus had shared many kisses throughout your relationship. He was the love of your life, and you his. Kissing became second nature for the two of you, when words were simultaneously too much and too little, when no other actions spoke as loudly you had your kisses to communicate with each other. Though you often revisited your first kiss, you never actually thought you’d ever share your last.

It had been months of sly glances and brushing your fingers together as they rested on the table in the Great Hall or the library. Months of James and Sirius making not so subtle jokes at the both of your’s expense, of losing your train of thought as he would walk by you. Of him, Remus Lupin, star student, getting called out in class for staring at you instead of paying attention to the lecture. Months of this before you finally got sick of it and stormed up to him in the corridor, taking his face in your hands, pulling it down as you balanced on the tips of your toes to kiss him. What started off as a gentle but sure peck, morphed into a passionate embrace between the two of you as one of his hands found itself on the back of your head, threading his fingers in your hair and the other slung around your waist pulling you close to his body so that there wasn’t a centimeter of space between the two of you.

He didn’t allow you to pull back far as you gasped for breath, instead, resting his forehead against yours as the corridor erupted into cheers from your fellow students led by none other than James Potter and Sirius Black.

You wondered what 15 year old you and Remus would have to say about where you were now. 

The date was May 2nd, 1998, James, Sirius, and Lilly all dead. Peter a traitor, so much life having been lived between of you as one came to an end. A battle was raging around you as you sat crouched in an alcove, tucked away in one of the turrets of the castle, hidden from the madness of the violence just feet from you. Spells flying to and fro, only hitting their intended targets half the time, pieces of the historic castle crumbling and crushing soldiers on both sides of the fight. 

You didn’t care less about what was happening around you, how could you when Remus was lying in front of you, bleeding profusely from his abdomen. You reached out to try to stop the bleeding, pressing your hands to which chest and stomach but the blood seemed to be coming from everywhere and the feeling of your lover’s blood in between your fingers had you about ready to vomit. 

“Remus, Remus please stay with me!” You pleaded, tears pricking your waterline, “Remmy please, you can’t leave me, you can’t you can’t you can’t.” You blubbered as the tears started to flow freely down your flushed cheeks, leaving wet trails in their wake.

“Hey, hey,” You heard from beneath your quivering form, your husband’s clammy, shaking hand reached out to grasp your forearm, smearing blood along your skin, damp with sweat. “M’okay darling I promise, s’all gonna be okay.” As he spoke his words slowed and began to slur together, his eyes slinking closed as a hazed look began to overtake them. “You’re gonna be okay, you’re gonna be okay.”

“Please don’t leave me,” You whimpered, leaning down so your faces were mere centimeters from each other, “I love you so much Rem, I love you too much.” You declared kissing his forehead.

“I love you too baby,” He smiled lazily.

In your desperation you pressed chaste, rushed kisses to his lips which tasted distantly of blood, listening to his breathing get slower and slower. Almost as if he was about to fall into a peaceful sleep.

Refusing to accept the imminent and obvious death of Remus Lupin, you prolonged your kisses, fusing your lips together and kissing him as though you could pour the life back into him. As though your kisses could counteract the blood gushing from his abdomen, whispering gentle “I love you”’s between them before stopping, not wanting Remus to waste his energy in saying it back every time.

You knew he loved you. He’d proved he loved you. All he had to do now was stay alive.

Remus pushed you back, murmuring to you, “Goodbye for now my angel, I’ll see you again soon,” As his eyes shut, his grip on your forearm going limp.

“No!” You screamed in agony, pulling Remus’ now lifeless form to press against your person, your clothes seeped in his blood, your lips dusting across his, taking all the warmth they had left with you, as a reminder that Remus Lupin had lived.

He’d fought, he’d cried, he’d laughed, he’d sung, he’d danced, he’d loved and been loved, he’d celebrated, he’d mourned, he’d persevered and overcome, he’d taught and learned.

He’d kissed.

You never thought you’d kiss Remus Lupin for the last time.

tagging: @randomoutsiders @weasleyposts​

[kikyan]

~Pop goes [Y/n]~

Yandere! Laughing Jack x Female!Reader

“ Hey [Y/N]?” 

“ Yes, dear old brother of mine?” 

“ I finally made a friend. . .” 

“ Oh? What does this friend look like? What’s his name?” 

“ Well his name is Laughing Jack and he is a clown!” 

“ Oh, a clown? I love clowns!! When can I meet him!” 

“ He’s my friend [Y/N]. . .” 

[Y/N] little brother whined as he looked at his sister hanging upside down from the tree in their backyard. [Y/N] wasn’t like most girls, while most girls would ignore their brother, younger or older [Y/N] didn’t. She absolutely adored her younger brother Zach. 

“ I’m not trying to take away your friend silly!! I just want to meet him!! How does he look?” 

“ Well. . . he is super tall and is black and white all over. Plus he-” 

“ Wait. He is black and white?” 

“ Yes, dummy if you listened-” 

“ Why isn’t he colorful like the rest of the clowns we’ve seen?” 

“ I don’t know but I can ask him!” 

“ Please do because I am curious! Can’t keep me in suspense now can you?” 

Jumping down from the tree [Y/N] fixed her clothing which consisted of jeans and a hoodie, complementing the cold temperatures plaguing her small town. Fixing her hair so it wasn’t in the way, [Y/N] ran to engulf Zach in a hug as she twirled him around laughing, causing Zach to smile and laugh as well. 

“ You know I love you right Zach!” 

“ Of course! You tell me that everyday sister!” 

“ Well, I don’t want you to forget okay! Now let’s go back inside because I am freezing out here and I know that we are both craving some food right about now.” 

“ Okay [Y/N]! Also, Jack told me that he doesn’t have color because he isn’t like most clowns!” 

“ Well, that’s interesting, we don’t attack creativity or originality so that’s good!” 

~~ 

“ YOU’RE LEAVING US!” 

“ I CAN’T STAND IT HERE WITH YOU ANYMORE!” 

“ OH SO FUCK YOUR WIFE AND KIDS HUH? YOU KNOW HOW HARD IT IS FOR ME TO GET A JOB RIGHT? NOW YOU’RE LEAVING ME AND THE KIDS FOR THAT WHORE!” 

“ DON’T INSULT HER LIKE THAT! IT’S NOT MY FAULT I FOUND THE RIGHT ONE A LITTLE LATER THAN USUAL! BESIDES, IT SEEMS YOU HAVE ENOUGH PEOPLE TO SUSTAIN YOU!” 

“ WHAT THE HELL DOES THAT MEAN?” 

“ MAYBE IF YOU STOPPED WHORING AROUND MAYBE WE WOULDN’T BE HERE!” 

“ AND THE KIDS?” 

“ YOU BIRTHED THEM NOT ME! YOUR PROBLEM NOT MINE!” 

As the screaming raged on [Y/N] Zach close by as he was sobbing in the hug. Asking his big sister why their parents were arguing and why they were screaming, most importantly why they were hiding but [Y/N] only smiled as she laughed and placed a kiss on Zach’s forehead. 

“ It’s okay Zach! Remember the song I taught you, “ Half a pound of tuppenny rice, Half a pound of treacle, That's the way the money goes, Pop goes the weasel!” 

Zach nodded before singing as soft gasps came out as he tried to calm his breathing and stop his crying as he sang with [Y/N]. Soon after the screams ended  [Y/N] smiled as Zach fell asleep with his cheeks all puffy and slightly red. Kissing his forehead slightly, [Y/N] whispered as she promised Zach a promise that she has yet to break. 

“ I’ll protect you Zach, I swear it. Nothing and  no one will harm you for as long as I live.” 

The next day [Y/N] woke up with Zach’s hand holding her own as she guided him down the stairs after brushing their teeth in the morning. [Y/N] smiled as she and Zach both jumped down from the second step to the floor, giggling a bit as they skipped over to the kitchen. To their surprise, their mother was already up and running cursing small curses as she tried to make breakfast for her kids. 

“ You kids are awake! Great I have an interview at 9 and it’s 8:45! [Y/N], you can finish the rest of the breakfast right? Remember chores first and games later okay! See you soon!” 

Their mother ran as she hurriedly put on her heels and grabbed her purse, exiting the house soon enough. [Y/N] stood holding the spoon that was used to mix the contents of a pot wondering what the hell she was supposed to do. 

“ Um. . . Zach, sit at the table and I’ll make us breakfast okay!” 

“ Okay [Y/N].” 

[Y/N] grabbed a chair and climbed it to peek at the contents, it was just oatmeal but it couldn’t be that hard to make, could it? She simply got the container and read the directions making sure to follow it correctly. After making the food [Y/N] served it and handed a plate to Zach and placed hers next to him. 

“  [Y/N] I’m thirsty.” 

“ I think we have some spare orange juice, I’ll see if I can find it.” 

Going to the fridge [Y/N] opened it and found a small bottle of orange juice that was filled enough for both of them to drink from. As she made it back she served her brother a cup of juice which he drank rapidly. [Y/N] only smiled as she picked up her own spoon only for Zach to say, “ [Y/N] my food is hot. Can you blow on it?” 

Sighing a bit she laughed and picked up the spoon blowing on it slightly to cool down the oatmeal and decided to play around with it. 

“ Zach! Here comes the airplane!” 

Making childish sound, ‘vrooom’, ‘ Zooom’ she spoonfed Zach the oatmeal she prepared, it seemed like the disaster that occurred yesterday was being drowned out of the laughter of Zach as he enjoyed playing with his older sister. 

~~ 

“ [Y/N] I’m hungry.” 

“ Hold on Zach if we could rush cooking trust me I would, I am starving.” 

“ Jack gave me some candy that I could have.” 

“ And he didn’t give me some? I am offended.” 

“ Because you are a girl [Y/N]” 

“ That does not make sense but okay I guess, treasure your candy and I’ll treasure our dinner.” 

“ Wait, I want to eat dinner too!” 

“ You already have candy Zach, you can’t have dinner if you have candy!” 

“ O-okay! I’ll put it away!” 

“ I’m just playing Zach but if you have candy before dinner it will give you a tummy ache, and you won’t enjoy candy if you do that.” 

“ Hmm... Okay [Y/N]” 

Mixing around the chicken noodle soup [Y/N] pondered and thought where her brother got the candy from. He said Jack gave it to him, but Jack wasn’t real was he? Unless. . .

“ Hey Zach, question what kind of Candy did Jack give you?” 

“ Hm. . . not sure all I know is that they are colorful though. I would share but Jack doesn’t want you to have any.” 

“ Hmph! Fine! That’s fine, I guess I won’t share my soup with him either! His loss. . .” 

At the sound of this sarcastic remark, Zach jumped up to say, “ H-he says that he can’t give you candy because you aren’t special but your soup looks tasty!” 

“ Oh? Well, thanks for the compliment Jack but it’s a shame that I’m not special enough for candy. If there is extra feel free to take some soup I guess.” 

[Y/N] began to serve dinner with a pondering thought. ‘That candy came from nowhere so it’s only safe to assume that Zach is lying or Jack is real, what did he mean by special? There isn’t much difference between me and Zach aside from age, I would say the both of us have vivid imaginations and similar personality. Wait! Could it be age? I’m gonna have to keep Zach close by... .until I get to the bottom of what’s happening.’ 

[ Y/N only stared at Zach eat the soup with a smile on his face, Zach was the only reason [Y/N] could even smile in this world. 

~ 

“ Brush your teeth?” 

“ Yes.”

“ Wash your face?” 

“ Yes.” 

“ Ready for bed?” 

“ Yes- WAIT! NO! THAT’S NOT FAIR!” 

“ Keep it down Zach! Before the neighbors come after my as- I mean come complain!” 

“ Were you about to say a naughty word?” 

“ Yes, but I didn’t. Anyway’s we are having a sibling sleepover because mom isn’t coming home till late so.” 

“ Yay! Does that mean I get to cuddle next to that bear dad got you?” 

“ Yes, yes it does. Now onward child to my room!” 

“ Yay! Wait, Jack is asking why I can’t sleep by myself.” 

“ Well, Yah see Jack, Zach and I have sibling sleepovers that not even mom can stop so, it’s a tradition and I will be shook if it ends now!”  

“ What does that mean?” 

“ It’s best if thy don’t know!” 

“ Hmph! Rude.” 

“ I-, okay well someone ain’t getting cuddles!” 

“ Aww C’mon!” 

“ Well hurry to bed.” 

“ Okay, wait,  Jack where are you going?” 

“ Is Jack leaving or something?” 

“ He said he is going to walk around the house.” 

“ Huh, okay just make sure to watch out for some steps.” el

Suddenly, sleep overcame everyone as Zach cuddled into [Y/N] as [Y/N] only stared in horror as she saw the silhouette of another being, assuming they are only staring at them. It was a tall-skinned being with shaggy hair. [Y/N] could not see who or what it was but she tried to steady her breathing and make it seem like  she was already sleeping. 

Suddenly the being began to move and [Y/N] closed her eyes and clutched onto Zach tighter afraid that this being would harm Zach. The being shifted and officially left the room and began going down the stairs only to briefly pause, before stepping over a step and continuing his way down. 

‘ He knew about the step, he knew the stairs had strange steps! Either he was here for some time inside the house already or he is Jack!’ 

[Y/N] stayed awake for some time before succumbing into a deep sleep, not before staring into the eyes of a tall-skinned monochrome man resembling that of a clown. 

~~ 

“ Hey Mom, I’m sorry to bug you but will you be gone all week, at night that is?” 

“ Yes, but why do you wanna know that sweetie?” 

“ Well, let’s just say that Zach really misses you and stuff.” 

“ Zach has you right?” 

“ Well yeah but having a mother seems better, I’m not saying I don’t like taking care of Zach but it’s just that maybe it would be safer if you got here earlier. What in case someone breaks in or something?” 

“ This is a good neighborhood so I doubt that, besides you have the next door neighbors in case of anything so don’t worry. On top of that, why do you ask now? What happened all of the sudden?” 

“ Nevermind mom, I get it, you have to work and I’ll just try my hardest okay! Have a safe day today mom!” 

“ Okay sweetie, remember get Zach to school and you too okay! Bye! Call me or the neighbors if you need something!” 

As [Y/N]’s mom left for work once again in the morning, [Y/N] pondered on the thought that again, like always nothing changed. 

~~ 

“ You have your lunch right?” 

“ Yes!!” 

“ Okay good boy Zach! Now off we go to school, I’ll pick you up after my school okay?” 

“ Okay! Does that mean we can play later after school?” 

“ Of course silly!” 

“ Hey don’t call me that [Y/N]!” 

“ Okay, if you say so, but also if you get good grades! Don’t forget to be nice to ‘ Everyone. . .’.” 

“ But I am!” 

“ Okay but why did you fight with that kid named Tommy?” 

“ He said that the boys had to take care of the girls and that I was a baby because you still took care of me!” 

“ Zach. Let me say something.” 

[Y/N] crouched down to meet her brothers height as she began to speak. 

“ Zach, mom is a girl and she takes care of the both of us! Does that make us babies?” 

“ W-well n-no” 

“ I am your older sister so I have to take care of the younger people! Does that make you a baby?” 

“ No. . .” 

“ You’re not a baby Zach. . . in fact I think you’re a strong boy! Who saved me from the pirates? Who saved me defeat the giant in the backyard?” 

“ I did!” 

“ Exactly, now would a baby be able to do that?” 

“ You’re right [Y/N]! Thanks. . . you really are the best sister in the whole world!!” 

“ I know I am! Now get to school before we both get in trouble-” 

Zach began to run across the field to get to his class as [Y/N] ran to get to her class before her teacher called roll. Upon entering her classroom she was met with her teacher calling roll, luckily, [Y/N] name hadn't been called and she quickly sat down. 

“ I feel so bad for her. . .she was telling me how much she liked that kitty she got. On top of that all those spooky things going around her house.” 

Feeling intrigued, [Y/N] asked about the so called ‘spooky’ things occuring. 

“ Well, Sarah. You know Sarah right? Well, anyways her cat was found last night hanging from the tree, cut open and was spilling some form of candy. It was so gross and Sarah was crying and crying. Her little sister was horrified but Sarah said that all these weird things happened ever since her little sister got a new friend.” 

“ A new friend?” 

“ Yeah, Sarah thinks it was an imaginary friend at first but then her little sister started appearing with treats and whatnot, just something that an imaginary friend wouldn’t do, but she just assumed that her friend was some neighbors kid or a homeless. Anyway, that’s all I know.” 

“ O-o-oh, well if you have Sarah’s number let her know that she has my condolences.” 

“ Of course! Oh wait! [Y/N] don’t you have a little brother?” 

“ Yes I do.” 

“ Has anything strange has been happening so far?” 

“ Well not really we both have a vivid imagination so it shouldn’t be much.” 

“ I see. . . take care of him okay? If it is someone, make sure to keep him safe. There are a lot of strange closeted freaks around here.” 

“ O-oh. . . yea of course! Nothing is going to happen, over my dead body!” 

After class was done, [Y/N] took out her phone and began to search for anything occurring matching those descriptions. 

‘ What would make a good search that might get me something other than clown giving candy’ 

[ Y/N] laughed at her search idea but dismissed it as she remembered that this was important and began to continue searching. 

‘ Hmmm. . . animals dead cut open spilling candy?’ 

“ that might work” 

Once hitting the go button she was met with grotesque images but nothing of the sort. Sighing she tried maybe searching for a more personal thing. 

‘ Black and White imaginary clown’ 

Some lazy articles were present but one that caught her eye was, “ WOMAN CLAIMS HER SON WAS MUR. . . .” 

Without thinking, [Y/N] clicked on the link and was sent to an article talking about a woman who claimed her son was murdered by a monochrome clown. It talked about how the mother had a son named James who told her he had an imaginary friend. However later that day she had a nightmare, of other children in a fair playground. Her son was given candy by his friend but she thought he was lying. Later that day the dog was murdered, cut with candy spilling out. She ran and alerted the neighbors, the cops telling her that it was a robbery, but she swore that everything was locked. The next day she kept her son in, setting a baby monitor to listen for anything strange, but suddenly she claimed her son was killed and nailed onto the wall. She tried to kill the clown except she stabbed her son on accident. She is now in a criminally insane institute and someone keeps playing, “ Pop Goes The Weasel,” outside her room. 

“ Well damn, this clown is one fucked up clown.” 

[Y/N] put her phone away and began to think. The mother found out and after 3 days her son died. This is strange, if this follows a pattern, this is the second day and something should be dead spilling candy late at night. We don’t have an animal so I don’t think that’s gonna happen, but if he improvises, well damn. She checked her phone and link again to find out the clowns name, “ Laughing Jack.” 

‘ Shit. . . it’s the same name as Zach’s friend. . .no doubt about it. This is the same clown we both are dealing with. I swear. . . Zach will not die by his hand!’ 

~~ 

“ I’m sorry [Y/N], but he called you a naughty word and I got mad.” 

[ Y/N] tried to hold back her laughter when she went to pick up her brother that day. According to the teacher, Zach and Tommy got into a fight because Tommy called out a bitch and you just had to laugh. Yet, it was a cute sight to see your brother defend you. Zach kicked Tommy in a certain place, normally Zach would be in trouble but other kids heard what Tommy said so it outweighed the crime. 

“ It’s okay Zach, you tried to help me and that’s all that matters. By the way, did you really kick him there?” 

“ Yes, I know you told me never to hit there but I had too!” 

“ just between us, good job!” 

“ Thank you [Y/N].” 

Walking down until they reached their house, [Y/N] told Zach to put away his things before coming downstairs for lunch. As [Y/N] was preparing a meal she began to think of Jack. If Sarah’s sister happened to have the same friend that would explain where Jack was always leaving to. It all started to make sense, but if her cat died yesterday that would mean that Jack would. . . no he wouldn’t. He would need also need to kill an animal and give it to us, but what if he works differently and there is no pattern? I mean she was the only witness I remember even being on the web. 

“ [Y/N]! What are we eating?” 

‘ I mustn’t think like that, Sarah will be safe, her sister will be safe. Everything will be fine. . .’ 

“ Anything you want Zach. . .” 

~~ 

Setting in a nice room and sleeping, what could go wrong. A loud clunk was heard, waking the siblings with a jolt. This scared Zach, but for [Y/N] she was both scared and glad. If It was jack then luckily Sarah’s sister was safe, but if it wasn’t Jack that would mean that it was a robber and that Jack was going after Sarah’s sister. 

“ [Y/N]. . . what was that? I-is m-m-mom back?” 

“ Stay here Zach!” 

[Y/N] was walking in silence, avoided the step that made noise, and walked down only to hear Zach come down the steps and whisper, “ [Y/N] the bear dad got you is gone!” 

‘ An animal. . .” 

[Y/N] sprinted down and ran the steps to see her teddy bear, the giant one her dad got her for her birthday before he left hanging from the ceiling fan, with candy spilling out. Relief washed over her as she realized that Sarah’s sister would be okay if it weren’t for Zach screaming, alerting his sister to his side. [Y/N]’s eyes widened at the sight, a red liquid. . . ‘ Blood?’ except followed by the blood were a pair of eyes, blue eyes like those of Sarah, small baby teeth, and a tongue. [Y/N] wasted no time and grabbed her brother and ran to the neighbors calling their mother and the police. 

No doubt about it, the police said the same thing. It was probably a robber, but they warned their mother that she shouldn’t leave her children like that alone ever again or CPS would be involved. Their mother thanked them and apologized to the officers along with the neighbors for staying awake and taking care of the children. The police went inside the home to recover the bear and the organs, explaining how they might be connected to a murder that happened recently, right across the street from them, two blocks down. At the sound of this, [Y/N] panicked and asked if the victim was a little girl, blue eyes, light brown hair, an older sister, etc. The officers were surprised and suspicious of [Y/N] for knowing a lot of info and began to question the girl. 

“ How do you know that?” 

“ I heard about some strange things occurring at her house, you see she is one of my classmates and I'm worried! Was it her?” 

“ Y-yes it was, but the conclusion we came to would be that the person who did it probably tried to scare you too and they snuck in to display what you saw in your house. You will be questioned later but be safe. Parts of the crime scene were found in your home, either you’re the next or its someone who gets a kick out of these displays.” 

“ Thank you officer and of course, you will be informed if anything changes!” [Y/N]’s mother apologized and thanked them once more. The house was secure and they could return, the only shocking thing was that Zach was speaking to Jack again. Zach was a little uncomfortable that jack arrived a little later after all this happened and that he was laughing. Zach just kept asking Jack where he was and if he was okay. 

[Y/N]’s mother was a little confused but rushed her children inside the house. [Y/N] walked over to her mom and they began to talk, mostly about the incident. 

“ Mom, hey. . . I think it’s best if me and Zach stay home. . .” 

“ I want you to go to school, it’s safer.” 

“ If someone did some inside the house to scare us, let’s say we are next. That means that they might stalk us and if we go to school, which means that will find out where we are will only lead to more danger.” 

“ If you stay home where he might come back you’ll be in more danger, [Y/N] listen to me, it’s not that hard to listen to your mother is it?” 

“ Why can’t you take the day off and take care of us? You always come home late, ever think that maybe we are more in danger because of that?” 

“ No need to raise your voice nor get sassy! As your mother I am doing the best I can for you guys but if you want to complain then complain to someone else because I am sure we are all shaken up after these events-” 

“ If you were around the house more you would know! Ask your boss, I am sure she will be okay with you staying home or coming home back earlier-” 

“ I bring food to this table, to this home by working more hours! If you had a job then maybe you would understand how difficult it is-” 

“ I do have a job and that’s being the mom you FAILED TO BE!” 

‘ slap’ 

“ I DON’T EVER WANT YOU TO TALK BACK TO ME YOU HEAR!” 

Zach came down the stairs and ran to [Y/N]’s side in fear for her. Their mother sighed and told Zach to go back upstairs to sleep, but Zach refused. [Y/N] laughed a little before grabbing Zach and saying, “ No wonder Dad wanted full custody of us. . .” 

“ W-WHAT THE HELL DID YOU SAY?” 

“ I said what I had to say! Dad saw that you could never be a good mom and look, I am that proof! Who is playing house now?” 

[Y/N] tucked in Zach before giving him a kiss on the cheek and saying good night. She walked back to her room, before Zach said something to [Y/N] that made her smile. “ Y/N, b-be safe, I love you and Jack wants me to tell you, good job for standing up to her.” 

“ Thank you Zach and Jack, thanks for that.” 

~~ 

Another day, and Sarah didn’t come to school so nobody heard the details about last night. [Y/N] has only tonight, because if everything so far has been based on the pattern, Jack was going to kill Zach tonight and [Y/N] wasn’t going to let that happen. She thought of some ways that she could outsmart Jack. 

‘ Jack can teleport because all the doors were locked and he killed Sarah’s sister yesterday and did his whole charade thingy. Anyways, if that’s the case then he can’t know where Zach is but he hangs with him all the time and if I tell Zach to run Jack will only get to him faster, Jack could also kill me too. . .My only choice is to confront him. .’ 

Once having her resolve, [Y/N] left school a little earlier than usual, her mother would be getting a call so no doubt about it she will find out, but in the end she would thank [Y/N] for saving Zach. Except that never happened. It was late at night and [Y/N]’s mother wasn’t going to come home and just stay late working. [Y/N] had a plan to confront him, simply put they were going to have another sibling sleepover, if Jack only killed children he would have to take Zach away from her giving her enough time to bolt with Zach or to tell him to go over the neighbors and leave her with Jack. 

“ Zach, mom is going to be late again so come and sleepover in my room. I don’t have the bear anymore but still, I can be the next teddy bear.” 

“ Okay [Y/N]!” 

Zach was safely tucked in the bed and was snoring peacefully, [Y/N] pretended to be asleep and heard a soft shuffle, only for a voice to speak. 

“ You’re not asleep.” 

[Y/N] opened her eyes, bridal style carried Zach and ran. She had to make it downstairs and at the very least make him go with the neighbors. Zach awoke within the ruckus and was confused when [Y/N] told him to run to the neighbors when she opened the door. Jack apeared right in front of them halfway down the stairs, only for [Y/N] to jump over the railing and continue to the door. 

“ ZACH NOW!” 

Zach ran and kept ringing the bell until the neighbors opened, Zach was safe! [Y/N] turned around to meet with Jack, she sighed before she told him that he would never get Zach. 

“ Thank’s for the compliment but I’m not going to let you hurt Zach.” 

“ Out of all the children I’ve killed, every home I visited, you are the only one who paid attention, cared even, if only the others were like you.” 

“ Thanks, but like I said I don’t intend to let Zach die here!” 

“ You aren’t stupid, you know that I could easily kill him, but I admire that side of you. If only Issac was like that, shame really. I came for life and a life I shall have, so tell me, wanna strike a deal?” 

~~ 

“ Please help my sister!! She is trapped with someone scary!!” 

“ Of course! Let’s call the police!” 

By the time the police were called onto the scene, [Y/N] was long gone. [Y/N]’s mother was arrested for child negligence and for not administering parental supervision such as a babysitter or a relative coming over. Zach was forced to live in an orphanage but his neighbors gladly took him in, unknown to the rest they were trying to have a child for so long but haven’t been able to, Zach didn’t mind. Except, he wanted his sister [Y/N]. 

Christmas rolled around and Zach was opening the gifts his new parents got him, except one was wrapped nicely in decorative paper. Zach’s parents weren’t sure who got it, but it was for Zach. It was a big bear, one like [Y/N] had. Zach cried a little at the memory before smiling, his sister was alive, he knew this, but where was she. She was right outside watching him smile, [Y/N] smiled at the sight before an all too familiar clown arrived to pick her up. He grabbed her hand, feeling nothing from him,  [Y/N] thought back to that night, the night he claimed her as his, mentally. Whether it is for comfort or for something else, Jack was glad to have someone like [Y/N] with him, someone to care for him. He looked down at the girl as he ruffled her hair before leaning forward. 

His hand got closer and closer to her cheek before he touched it. 

“ Pop Goes [Y/N~”

[spahhzy]

Promise.

No Fall AU. Fourth year.

*Dimension 52*

.

.

"I promise Ruby on my name and life as an Arc you'll get that dance!

Ruby sighed for the umpteenth time as the music blared in the background students all around her were dancing and having a good time.

"He'll be here Rubes" Ruby looked up and saw her sister Yang, and the rest of her team along with Team JNPR minus its leader.

"Yeah ruby Jaune-Jaune will be here he promised!" Said Nora handing Ruby some punch.

Blake put a hand on her shoulder.

"Has he ever broken a promise too you?" She said and Ruby shook her head and looked at the clock and looked down at her red dress and evil lady stil-heels.

9:00pm

The dance was almost over.

Where is he?

Yang watched her sister sit in her chair away from the crowd upset.

"Where the hell is vomit boy?!" She said and Weiss nodded while looking at her scroll trying to get ahold of junipers leader. They all did Jaune had said he was going into Vale to get nice suit for his date/dance.

"It shouldn't have taken long...you don't think he is standing her up do you?" Blake asked

"Jaune isn't like that he made a promise...and you know how he is on promises especially ones to Ruby" Weiss said defending the knight. Over the course of the school years Jaune had earned her respect for all his hard work he put on at Beacon.

"Then where is he!?" Yang said eyes going red and kicked the railing as silence fell amongst the group.

-

From another side of the auditorium Glynda and Ozpin looked on seeing everyone having a good time well...not everyone.

"It would seem that...not everyone is enjoying themselves" said Ozpin as he eyed the Rose girl sitting in her chair, the red dress clashing with the white seats.

"Ah yes...miss Rose...apparently Jaune Arc was her date no?" Glynda asked to which Ozpin nodded.

"Perhaps Mr. Arc had second doubts?" She asked and Ozpin sighed.

"I don't think he would be the type...we've seen how far he'd go for people" Ozpin said as he recalled moments over of all Jaune's deeds he's ever done for him and many of the faculty members.

Suddenly a buzzing sound came from his scroll.

Pulling it out he looks to find an incoming call from...

"The Vale General Hospital?"

-

It was now 10:30.

The dance was 30 mins from being over and still no Jaune Arc.

No calls or texts.

No one could get ahold of the arc knight.

"I'm so sorry Ruby" came the voice of her sister as she came to comfort her.

"Sigh it's alright...I...I didn't expect him to break his promise though...sure we had a fight a few weeks back" Ruby said tears pooling in her eyes.

" I love him...I really love Jaune and he said he loved me...so why isn't he here" to which Yang just hugged her sister tightly as the DJ announced it was now time for the last slow songs of the night.

-

"This isn't like our fearless leader Ren!" Nora said as she took a sip of her drink.

Weiss was still working on trying to get ahold of the dolt but still so far nothing. No one had been able to get ahold of Jaune.

Suddenly Weiss scroll beeped and her screen came to life with 'Breaking News'

"Guys come look" She said to Ren, Nora, Pyrrha and Blake as they all gathered around to see a special news report.

"This is Lisa Lavender coming with you live on the scene from downtown vale where a explosion had just taken place just a few minutes ago" said the reporter as fire and smoke were present in the background as fire fighters came storming by.

"The explosion came during a conflict with a hostage situation involving 3 armed suspects in this building or what is left of the building before it toppled down"

"The three suspects before detonating the explosion were confronted by one individual but we are getting reports that he was a Beacon student" The moment she uttered those words everyone began to have a sinking feeling in the pit of their stomachs.

"We do have video footage of the matter just before the building collapse from a near by cctv camera" she said before cutting to the video and their everyone's heart sank.

Their was Jaune, shield up and sword in hand dressed in his unbuttoned dress shirt and tux as the three individuals just looked on before pressing what looks like a button suddenly an explosion happened which showed Jaune was only knocked backwards a few feet before getting up, he looked to his right for some reason.

The camera picked up on his body glowing before the camera angle changed as suddenly a young woman was shown in the wreckage of the explosion crying out for help.

Every one was silent fear in the pit of their stomachs as they saw Jaune come to the ladies rescue able to get all the rock and debris out of the way before trying to get her somewhat stable to remove her from the situation.

Suddenly he looked up behind him as his body glowed again and he raised his shield up before suddenly mountains of rubble came crashing the CCTV cut off.

"We have reports that the lady in question after the rubble was cleared is okay! Though we do not know the status of the Beacon student in question as he neglected treatment before leaving..."

Everyone breathed a sigh of relief, Jaune was alive but they also realized that was why Jaune was late it was because-

"Renny look! Fearless leader!" Nora shouted in excitement as she took off with Ren and Pyrrha in tow.

Weiss immediately ran to the railing as their at the entrance was a clean, safe and alive Jaune Arc..

She looked on as Jaune rubbed the back of his head in embarrassment before Pyrrha pointed to all the way to the dance floor where the lonesome Ruby awaited.

Weiss sighed before sitting back down.

All would be well after, Arc kept his word.

-

10:45pm

He really wasn't gonna come was he...

He really was gonna break his promise....

He -

"At the special request we are now going to play a special song before tonight's end"

*play whatever special slow song you'd think Ruby and Jaune would dance to*

Ruby's eyes widened that was her's and Jaune's song but wait...

"Hey craterface..." She heard his voice as suddenly the dancefloor that had many people dancing started to thin out before finally only one person was standing their.

Jaune Arc looked at her as she stood up from her chair.

Jaune looked to his right to see Yang giving him a thumbs up of approval, he nodded before wincing a bit as he walked forward.

Ruby started walking towards him...meeting him halfway before finally they were feet apart.

"Hey..."

"Hey..."

"I'm sorry I'm late...I didn't mean to make you think I was gonna stand you up...something happened in vale took longer then I expected" Jaune said to which Ruby shook her head before reaching in and giving him a hug.

"Your here...thats what matters...its our final Beacon dance and I wanted it to be with you" She said nuzzling into his chest as Jaune chuckled.

"Then would this lovely rose accompany me to our final dance of the night?" He asked to which he felt Ruby nod as they began to sway to the sound of music.

-

Weiss joined the others as they stared at the last two on the dance floor.

"So vomit boy tanked a building falling on him while saving someone...to think I couldn't get more impressed" Yang said as she was caught up to speed on why Jaune was late.

"That's our fearless leader alright a true knight in shining armour!" Nora said happily as Ren hugged Nora as Pyrrha and Blake all looked on in happiness.

Weiss scroll rang again and she pulled it out.

It was a call from the headmaster? That got everyone's attention.

"Hello? Headmaster how can I help you?"

Before she could get an answer a scream rang out and everyone turned back to the dance floor.

-

"Glynda we must getJaune Arc immediately!"

Ozpin put away his scroll as Glynda looked at him confused.

"That boy was in a serious situation and no doubt its on the news by now but he refused help" He said as Glynda got up from her seat.

"His aura probably healed whatever damages he sustained" She tried to deduced as Ozpin shook his head.

"The young women he saved came in on the call from the General Hospital explained that he shielded her from the debris using his aura" his voice grim as he tried began scrolling in his contacts for Weiss Schnee.

"So then he is fine right? His aura saved her and him" to which Ozpin shook his head.

"His aura didn't stop everything...when the women came too she saw Jaune with a piece of-"

"Hello? Headmaster how may I help you?"

"Weiss it's of the utmost urgency yiu get to Jaune Arc and get Aura into his system now-"

But was cut off as a screamed pierced the auditorium.

-

The song played as they continued dancing.

Ruby was happy...it was everything she wanted she looked up and saw Jaune smiling down at her with tear blue eyes. It wasn't long before Jaune tilted his head down to her and she met him halfway before their lips met in a electric kiss.

Euphoria was all Ruby felt as she finally separated from the kiss and continued their dance.

"So how was that Vomit boy"

"Heh...it was...to die for" he said to her as he kept dancing as once again they tuned the world out.

Unbeknownst to Ruby...Jaune glowed brightly before his aura slowly started to shimmer away.

It wasn't a few more minutes before the song came to an end and they both stopped but continued hugging each other.

"I love you Jaune Arc...thank you for keeping your promise" Ruby said her arms still wrapped around his chest.

But Jaune said nothing.

"Hey...how about we go back to your room hmm cuddles and such?"

Jaune still said nothing and suddenly Jaune decided to lean against her becoming surprisingly heavier.

"Hey Vomitboy your too heavy for these lady stilt" She laughed but still Jaune was unresponsive and her hand started to get wet.

"Jeez Jaune were you sweating this dance your whole back is all...wet?" She looked at her right hand from behind him to find it was not sweat...but blood.

"Jaune..." she pulled her head back to look at his face and all she saw was lifeless blue eyes looking at her in a sad smile as he finally got to heavy and they both fell to the ground.

Ruby looked at him frightful as his he was facedown as blood began to pool out, soaking his tux and the dance floor.

Ruby began hyperventilating and the world seemed to slow down as she looked on at the love of her life laying down in his blood.

It was too much.

Ruby screamed.

"I promise Ruby on my name and life as an Arc you'll get that dance!"

For the 9 days of Lancaster.

Enjoy.

[pinencurls]

“I could just hold you and listen to your voice all night long.”

Hiii so this is my entry to @stellarboystyles‘s three year anniversary fic challenge! I’ve been busy with getting ready for classes starting and balancing other stuff so I wrote it on and off for a week and a bit but I hope you all enjoy! Feedback is so so encouraged and appreciated <3 

Here’s my masterlist of some other stuff I’ve written x 

Enemies (more like friends but oops) to lovers, prompt 9 “I could just hold you and listen to your voice all night long.”

14k+ :) Not read through sorry! pls let me know of any mistakes and I’ll correct them <3 (also i k n o w the title's bad but i couldn’t think of anything, pls feel free to leave any recs.)

- - - - 

It isn’t that I hate Harry. He just makes me feel...insecure. He’s never said or done anything directly but it’s hard to feel good about yourself when all your closest confidants seem to compare you to somebody else, somebody they so clearly hold higher above you. There wasn’t a single day I could meet a mutual friend of mine and Harry’s and not have them sing his praises, and apparently everyone was a mutual friend. I’ve known Julia and Theo for years, we all met in uni when they first started going out but it wasn’t until a year ago that I somehow ended up finding myself a regular within the friendship group they’d formed when they both went into the music and fashion industries. They had ties everywhere and after a pure coincidence of running into them and their circle at a pub, almost all my weekends were spent in various art galleries or new restaurants owned by somebody’s cousin or the guy they met last night at a Fleetwood Mac concert. 

I’d met Harry about five months into hanging out with the group. He’d known them a lot longer than I had, weaving his way into the little pockets of interesting people for years since the x factor. I was busy with work the first few times he was in town but after a while, Nick, the persistent party planner of the group who always managed to wrangle us together, insisted that I just had to meet him.                  . . . . . 

Eleanor’s house is huge and buzzing with hundreds of strangers. I cling to Julia and Theo’s side, Nick and Eleanor are nowhere in sight - most likely playing host or drinking too much chardonnay in another corner of the house. These four are the only people I can say I really know here, sure there are a few familiar faces on the dance floor, either from having met them at any of Eleanor's past elaborate parties or just because of they’re not so subtle fame. That’s another thing, all the people sipping wine and dancing around me are fairly...well known. Either just within the industry or to the general public too, they’d all gain fairly high status. It was a fluke really that I got on so well with Julia when we first met on a fashion course in uni. 

Julia had big goals, all of which she was on track to fulfil, that conflicted slightly with mine. Her goals consisted of runway show models clad in designer brands she might one day contribute to whereas mine were more...anti, that whole world. It took a few years to find a steady footing but eventually, I was proud of where I’d ended up: a comfortable little cubby in the fashion and sustainability columns of a handful of independent magazines. After a few nights out with Julia, I was pleasantly surprised to find her shared interests and solidarity in my work and ambitions of her own within the same ideology. But whilst that’s all well and good, I’m still very much the small indie journalist that slips through the cracks when it comes to small talk at these kinds of events. It became apparent pretty quickly that my latest articles on how fast fashion had begun its destruction of a liveable environment in developing countries weren’t as relevant or interesting to the people promoting Prada and Calvin Klein as the next met gala theme. 

“Do you want another drink?” Theo asks from beside me, pulling my focus from my scan of the room. 

“No thanks..I’m good.” I murmur, debating how long I have to stay before I can slip out and feel a little less awkward around all the people I have no clue how to talk to. “Think I’m gonna head off actually..”

“Look I know you hate networking, but this is just a chill get-together yeah?” Theo chuckles, squeezing my shoulder before taking another sip from his gin and tonic. “We’re in the same boat about these snooty things but tonight’s not like that, relax a bit will ya.” 

Theo works mostly with small-time music artists, producing debut albums and such so we share the same deep discomfort for the many events we often find ourselves at. It’s how we got close really, week after week we’d trail behind Julia as she strikes up conversations with Hollywood elite...and he always makes getting piss drunk in someone’s pool house exceptionally fun. 

Before I can further any excuses about getting home to start on the legitimate and ever-growing pile of work deadlines on my desk, a tall man in far too much Gucci to belong anywhere but in a room full of models and artists makes a beeline straight from the bar to our awkward party. 

“Harry!” Theo shouts, embracing the slightly tipsy man in a hug he reciprocates. 

“It’s been too long mate, how ‘ave you been?” Harry cheers, leaning back from the hug and grinning down at his friend. 

“I’ve been good - busy, enjoying the free bar as always.” Theo jokes, motioning between his and my matching G and T’s. Harry’s eyes wander up from the drink, realisation dawning on his face as he smiles again.

“Ah and you must be the famous Olivia,” He reaches his hand out to mine and shakes it lightly. “Sorry I didn’t introduce myself, ‘m Harry, it’s good to finally meet you, love.”  

“Likewise.” I smile, trying to suppress the blush his words of endearment tease. I can’t deny the natural charm and charisma everyone always talks about now that it’s hitting me straight on. There’s something about the way he doesn’t hesitate to hold eye contact just that little bit longer that makes the room go still for just a second. He’d got it down to a T.

“Aww I see you two have finally met!” Nick interrupts. My hand falls from Harry’s grip as he’s welcomed into another hug. “About fucking time as well, been trying get this one to take a night off for weeks!”

“I literally came out with you last Thursday!” I counter, not missing the smirk setting on Harry’s face as he watches Nick and I’s back and forth. “And the Saturday before, come to think of it I’m always out with you Nicky.” 

“Not when Harry’s in town though n’ that’s a different kinda night.” Nick laughs, his beer sloshing slightly in his free hand as his other remains draped over Harry’s shoulders. 

That was maybe the first sign of my slight resentment for Harry. All night I wandered around with Theo hearing little bits of conversations, all surrounding the star of the party. I understood this wasn’t his doing, his humility was clear in every one of his bashful attempts to turn the conversation away from his growing achievements and onto literally anything else. He was, however, a self-proclaimed narcissist. Every time somebody would swoon over him and insist he stay the topic of conversation, a smirk tugged at his lips and stayed there as he consumed the endless and animated praise from almost all the party guests. 

I’d expected some of his qualities to be untrue, learning from the past never to believe blindly of someone’s pure character when you didn’t truly know them. Especially when they frequented the gossip columns. But it wasn’t him so much, he was true to his motto of kindness and courteous even as people fawned over him, it was more the attention that surrounded him. As the night went on it became clear what Nick meant even if he didn’t know it himself. A night out with Harry was different because everyone made sure to capitalize off how different he made them feel.

. . . . .

“Can I get you anything else M’am?” The young waitress asks as she clears up my empty mug and saucer. My eyes falter a little as they adjust from the blue light of my laptop I’ve been staring at for the last twenty minutes. 

“Um- oh please could I just get a refill?” I ask. 

“Sure thing - mint tea right?” She smiles, adjusting the mug in her hands to make a quick note. 

 “Yeah..s’perfect - thank you.” She’s gone before she hears my delayed gratitudes, definitely used to the throngs of bemused writers tapping away at their laptops for hours. 

I turn back to my open google doc. So far it’s written in two parts I have no idea how to connect and my senseless rereading hasn’t resulted in any legitimate progress in almost an hour. I’d accept the rut I’m stuck in and work on something else for the day if I didn’t only have the day. Last night had been filled with plans of settling in early and finishing the last two thousand words on an upcoming sustainable clothing brand. That all went out the window of course as my phone buzzed off the kitchen counter with Nick’s insistence of yet another night out to celebrate ending the work week - his was quite different to mine. It was easy to ignore the persistent beeping of my phone as new texts and call notifications popped up every three minutes, but less so when the rhythmic bursts of noise were replaced by knocks on my front door. 

Within 40 minutes of opening it to Nick in a silk shirt and jeans too skinny for someone pushing thirty, I was two drinks in and dancing to Blue DeTiger with a pair of hands on my waist that I didn’t entirely recognise. It was just the six of us: Me, Nick, Ellie, Theo, Julia and Harry.

He was hard to ignore, not that I was trying particularly hard. On the drive over, the limited backseat space in Nick’s car and close proximity had practically forced me into his lap. Even with thighs pressed tightly against each other, we hardly talked, a few polite hellos here and there and then silence as we listened to Eleanor recall her latest night with whichever blonde bassist was her ‘soulmate’ that week. The whole ride over, Harry kept his hands on the thigh closest to the door and leant his shoulders the same way as to touch me as little as possible - which was still quite a lot considering the packed five seater pushing seven passengers. It was fairly common knowledge we weren’t close and I got the feeling he wasn’t too keen on me, but he could at least not act like touching me would be the worst thing ever. 

As the night went on he clung to Theo, ever the cuddly drunk, and I stayed more to the pleasant stranger I’d found on the dance floor.

No meanest was ever intended between us but I couldn’t help but watch the kindergarten like bitterness grow as everyone just loved him. We couldn’t go anywhere without a crying fan or two approaching the sweet and smiling man who always answered their questions affectionately and hugged them goodbye. The times he was out of town were always filled with comments about his absence, as if none of us were good enough without his added presence. I couldn’t help but wonder why they even bothered to bring me into their little group. The lack of closeness between Harry and I felt almost like a lack of closeness to the group as a whole, despite how much my individual friendships with everyone advanced. 

Just as I thank the waitress - Alice, her name tag read, and take the first sip of my third tea (I had to switch after a particularly strong starter coffee) I notice a familiar man out the corner of my eye looking just as rough as me. Of course he’s wearing it better than I am. 

Harry collects a drink from the counter and bows his head slightly in thanks, turning and catching my eye just as he’s on his way out. He waves with his free hand and shoots me a candid smile before making a quick change in direction towards my small table. 

“Long time no see,” He pulls the chair opposite me out a little as he chuckles at his own joke. He perches lightly, temporarily. “How’ve you been?”

“A little hungover, I won’t lie..” I laugh, surprised by the whole encounter. “You?” 

“Same, I might have had a shot or two too many,” I nod knowingly and shut my laptop softly. He sips what smells like coffee before going on. “Are ya workin? Sorry to interrupt.” 

“Oh no- I mean I am but it doesn’t matter really, ‘ve kinda hit a dead end.” His eyes hover, waiting for me to go on. “I was gonna get it done last night but Nick had other plans..” 

“Yeah Nick’ll do that to you,” He laughs, “What’re you writing ‘bout?” 

He leans slightly forwards, holding eye contact and shuffling comfortably into his chair. 

“Oh just this promotional piece on a new company, they’re hiring young women and training them to make these handmade clothes. They’re paying them above minimum wage and focusing on sustainability so this editor I’ve written for before offered me it.” I’m not really sure how sincere he is in his curiosity, he always seems to have time to listen when Julia has a new design plan or Theo’s found a new artist but that’s different really. I stop before I start to ramble, just in case. 

“That’s so cool, what kinda stuff are they making?” He prompts, resting his chin on his fist, imitating the posture of an eager little kid. 

“They've started stocking stuff by other independent artists but mostly dungarees and these cool cord trousers, they’d suit you actually, even got some 70s style ones.” Now that the two worlds are colliding in my head, I can’t help but imagine Harry in a pair of their forest green cords, the wide legs would almost bury his vans but a part of me is pretty sure he’d love them. 

“Thanks, if they come at your recommendation I might have to get my hands on a pair,” He smiles, his tone’s a lot different to the usual polite cheer, it’s difficult to place where it’s landed before he’s talking again. “Reminds me of that show you took us to with the upcycled clothes, all those dungarees made of old quilts - remember?” 

It’d been a small exhibit just outside of London I’d mentioned offhandedly and somehow ended up showing everyone around. It was nice to have them all in my world for an evening. Marcus, a friend of mine from college, had put it together and created a lot of the pieces. He and the others I’d met through my work were fairly shocked to say the least when Harry Styles came traipsing through the doors behind me. All night he quietly asked Nick questions, to which Nick only responded by motioning towards me and wandering off to the bar. 

“I do - I’m surprised you do to be honest.” It slips before I can decide if it sounds passive aggressive or not. To be fair, it had been a surprise to me, meeting everyone at the train station and watching Harry and Nick scramble out a taxi and run towards us. He’d been dressed in proper gallery attire and seemed genuinely thrilled to be joining in on the rare night I actually played host. 

“Course I do, it was a good night...I’d choose it over Nick’s tequila Tuesdays anyday.” His phone buzzes on the table, a text popping up in green. “Oh I- my manager’s waiting sorry.” 

A sheepish smile is accompanied by a loose arm movement towards the door where, out on the street, I see Jeff. He’s shaking his head and motioning for Harry to hurry up. Had Harry sat down to talk to me whilst his manager had been waiting this whole time? 

“It was good running into you, good luck with it all,” He stands. “See you friday yeah?” 

I’d totally forgotten about his “Whenever I’m in town Friday film night.” until he mentioned it. I’d been twice in the past and stayed quietly to my corner of the sofa, only watching as everyone else laughed at whatever romcom had been chosen that night. 

“I-maybe.” He shakes his head as I smile, not quite ready to commit a whole evening to watching Nick raid Harry’s wine cellar. 

“You better, I’m gonna need to hear more ‘bout those cords.” He points his hand in a kind of joking reprimand/wave before he’s gone back down the aisle of tables to the door where Jeff ruffles a hand through his hair and laughs when his hands fly to fix the now birdnest of brown curls. 

I open my laptop back up, skimming over the last few lines I wrote to get myself back on track. I take a sip and my tea’s gone cold. 

. . . . .

“Are you coming to Harry’s tonight?” Eleanor asks down the phone, her voice chipper as she no doubt raids her closet. 

“Maybe, I don’t know..I’ve got this deadline Monday morning that I’m nowhere near meeting.” 

“Come on Liv, we haven’t seen you all properly together since last month, and last week doesn’t count it was too loud to actually talk!” She chimes in, the sound of clothes being tossed to the floor clear in the distant background. “Have you got a problem with Harry or something?” 

“No Elle, of course I don’t-” 

“Then why do you guys never talk? You hardly come with us when he’s around and when you do you barely even say hello.” Eleanor complains, she’s mentioned it in the past but it’s been easy to blow off with excuses of how busy he usually was making his way around the room to greet everyone or how we just hadn’t known each other that long and weren't particularly close yet. 

“I just...I don’t know, I don’t think he likes me very much.” I pause. I still haven't decided what last Saturday was in the cafe. “We’re not really close and I’d prefer not to spend another night listening to people tell him - and everyone else - how great he is.” 

“You’re saying that like he’s some arrogant twit, if you came out with us more you’d see what he’s really like around his friends. Or you know, you could actually talk to him when we’re together and see that he’s not a dick?” 

It was a fair point. I haven’t made much of an effort over the past year to spend any time with him outside of larger gatherings or to have genuine conversations with him that went past the weather or a new jacket one of us had on. Maybe he really is a good guy away from all the pretentious crowds and watchful eyes he usually called to our group. He’d certainly seemed different in the quiet Saturday surroundings of Blondies Coffee Roasters in between sips of coffee. 

“Okay, okay yeah I’ll see you there.” We hang up a couple of minutes later and I’m left alone in my kitchen again.

. . . . . 

“Hey!” Harry cheers as the door swings open to reveal him in yet another pair of flared pants that hung comfortably around his waist. “Come in, come in.” 

We all pile in through the doorway as he steps aside. Arms weaving through each other as we hang coats and jackets and Julia passes Harry the fruit platter she’d made (and scolded us all for picking at on the drive over.) 

“Oh very appropriate,” Harry laughs as he uncovers the tray to reveal an array of sliced watermelon, strawberries and grapes, He sets the fruit down on the table in the lounge for us all to eat and shakes his head lightly. I look up at Julia for an explanation but she’s too busy claiming the comfiest loveseat for the night. “I’m never telling you anything again, Jules.” 

Julia and Harry tease each other for a moment more until Theo catches my confused stares and laughs to himself. 

“Harry wrote a song ‘bout fruit- another one actually,” Theo starts, tucking himself beside Julia and letting her take over before he can finish. “S’not just about fruit though is it H?” 

Harry blushes slightly and settles his glare on Julia as he carries six wine glasses through to the table. 

“‘S about watermelon, it just has some..” He clears his throat as he fumbles for his next sentence. “Other themes to it too.” 

“As if mate,” Theo’s laughter booms, “ Basically Liv, he wrote this new song the other day all about how much he loves to-” 

“Watermelon!” Harry yells, pointing an accusatory finger at Theo. “S’all about how much I love watermelons...I’m a fruit guy.” 

“Oh are we talking about the pussy song?” 

All heads snap round to see Nick, obviously having let himself in and now chuckling softly to himself as he leans against the archway into the room. 

“Oh sorry H, were you tryna give an interview answer?” 

Harry just slaps his palm over his eyes and lets his shoulders shake for a minute before he bounces back to host mode. 

“Okay!” I can’t help but notice how flushed the tips of his ears are as he claps his hands together, desperately trying to move on from the conversation. “Who wants wine?” 

Fifteen minutes later everyone is settled onto the sofas with an array of throws between us and a layout of fruits, crisps and other mid rom com snacks that make me feel bad I left my flat in too much of a hurry to remember anything but hummus. 

“Okay - Sixteen Candles, When Harry Met Sally or Mamma Mia?” Nick calls out, waving the tv remote above his head to get everyone's attention. An outpour of votes follows - you’d think between only six of us we’d be able to sort out a process by now but still we fall into momentary anarchy as the room divides. 

“Mamma Mia is a classic!” Eleanor protests as Nick’s shaking his head. 

“And Billy Crystal isn’t?” He yells back, eyes wide and genuinely offended. 

“Colin Firth is arguably more iconic, Nick really, come on.” Theo sighs. He accepts the high fives Ellie and I reach out to him and saluts us both. 

“We’ve all seen Mamma Mia before though, we’ve never watched When Harry Met Sally all together,” Julia points out, winning a smirk and nod of approval from Nick. 

There’s a beat of silence while Nick weighs up the votes in his head. He tilts to the side slightly and eyes Harry up, our gazes following. 

“Harry?” 

“Ellie?” 

“Come on, you’ve got the last vote here, and I know how much you like Meryl.” Nick gasps a little, the mention of Meryl Streep as a wager to win Harry over to his opposing team was definitely foul play in his eyes. 

“Yeah but he loves When Harry Met Sally...and he is a narcissist..” Julia offers into the debate, a few snickers follow her comment before we all turn to look at Harry. We’re all already half a glass in but I could swear for just a moment his eyes lingered over me, fluttering down to my smile before turning back to announce his decision to Nick. 

“I’m afraid I am in the mood for a bit of Abba,” Cheers and not so subtle murmurs of frustration fill the lounge as Nick scrolls through the Romance bar on Netflix before clicking on the film of just over half of our choosing. 

Everyone goes quiet as the film starts, breaking out into bursts of song only as the cast does. From the conversation in the car, it’s pretty clear everyone has just been through a pretty tiring week. We all tended to pile our workload a little heavy so it was always nice to escape for a few hours at the weekend and relax together.

Just as Voulez-vous plays through the room, a slightly tipsy Nick leans into Harry to serenade the singer with his own rendition. The duo sway slightly, both narrowly avoiding Nick’s wild limbs before there’s a crash and Harry’s cursing. 

“Oh- H, Sorry!” 

Nick’s wine glass that’d been balanced on the coffee table in front of him moments before now lays on its side. The, luckily white, wine trickles down onto the rug but most noticeably splashes into Harry’s lap. I’m not entirely sure how he managed it, it must have flown forwards when it was knocked but Harry quickly stands to access the damage. 

“I’m so sorry Harry I-” 

“Don’t worry mate, I’m just gonna go change and toss these in the wash..could you wipe that up for me?” Nick nods, looking a little less cheerful and a lot more guilty now as Harry makes it way out the room. He calls behind him: “Keep watching I’ll only be a second!” 

Nick finishes wiping down the table and rug just as Harry jogs back into the room. I don’t mean to and I’m never one to check people out..unless very subtly, but I can’t help but let my eyes linger a little. 

He’s still in his plain tee but instead of his fancy pants he’s found some soft wash denim jeans. The whole look paired with his thick rimmed glasses and how his hair's gotten tousled about by Nick throughout the night just made him look so...ordinary. Not in any bad way, anyone who met Harry knew he could never be ordinary, no matter how casual he dressed, but something about seeing him abandon the more dressed up looks and go for the comfortable option just made him seem different. 

In a second his green eyes are complimenting the look too as he gazes down at me. 

“Hi,” He mouths, nobody’s taken much notice of his return, yet another musical number taking everyone’s attention. It’s my turn to blush a little now. I avert my eyes quickly, anywhere really, before sneaking a quick look up at him to smile back. 

Ellie had helped Nick in the “For fucksake save Harry’s rug it probably costs more than your car” mission and had stolen the seat beside him after they were done. It slipped my mind until Harry set the new bottle of wine on the table and sunk down into the space beside me, He curls one leg underneath him and slips me one more smile before turning back to the screen just as Donna and Sam start singing SOS.

. . . . . 

“Ah shit, I think I left my book!” I curse just as we make it down the road to Julia’s car. Parking was shit so by the time we found a spot we’d ended up a good 15 minutes away from Harry’s house. “You guys go on, I’m only round the corner anyway.” 

Theo and Julia were familiar with my stubbornness so let me go, yelling their goodbyes after a few hugs as they drove away, Ellie and Nick do the same as they clamber into a taxi. I turn quickly in the chilly air and make my way back down the street to Harry’s drive, punching in the familiar code at his gate before running up to the door hastily. 

It was open - as always, so I let myself in. He was probably still cleaning the lounge up after we all got a little too tipsy. 

“Hey it’s me...just left my book sorry!” I call down the hallway. It’s quiet despite the light Paul Simon playing in the distance so I make my way quickly to the sofas I’d spent most of the night on, praying to avoid an awkward run-in with Harry. 

Although we’d actually shared some light conversation throughout the night and a handful of smiles, I’m not sure we’re quite at the stage in our friendship that me more or less breaking into his house wouldn’t be awkward to run into. 

The lounge is empty when I get there. The side tables are still littered with wine glasses and tacky red rings on coasters but no Harry in sight. Or book for that matter. 

I start pulling back the cushions carefully - god knows how much they cost. Despite scouring the one spot I’d pretty much clung to the whole night -  incidentally beside Harry -  I have no luck. Nick tossed the book back to me at some point in the night after reading it by my recommendation but knowing him it could have ended up anyway. I follow the breadcrumbs of our night down another hallway as I vaguely remember Nick talking about a certain plot twist as we searched Harry’s kitchen cupboards for the wine he’d sent us off to restock. 

As I come around the white archway into his kitchen I catch a glimpse of him from around the kitchen island. He has his back turned to me but he’s leant forwards against a counter with ring covered fingers clutching the edge, a glass of amber liquid set slightly away from him. 

“Oh, sorry I was just-” He jumps a little at my voice, turning quickly to face me with his now free hands coming up to hold his chest. When his eyes finally meet mine they’re red and it takes a second for him to register the tears still streaming from them before he replies. 

“Shit, fu- what are you..are you alright?” His hands bat between tangling into his hair and wiping the tears from his cheeks, anything to avoid actually looking up at me again. 

“Yeah, I just..um..left my book,” I mumble, taking a step closer to him when I notice how his hands shake as they move timidly around his face. “Harry, what’s wrong?”

“Uuuh um.” He wanders for a moment before slapping a palm lightly atop the counter and pulling out his infamous grin. “Nothing much, how bout you - find your book?” 

“-Harry..” I take another step close, “I know we’re not, ya know..close. But you can talk to me.” 

There’s a beat of silence when he keeps up the act, I’d almost believe it if it wasn’t for his bloodshot eyes and anxious fingers drumming against the tile. 

“What’s wrong?” 

He pauses for a moment, assessing whether or not to tell me whatever’s weighing so heavy on his shoulders. But the dam bursts. 

“Fuckin’ everything Love” He laughs, rubbing his palms over his face. I try to focus on the matter at hand: Harry weeping in his kitchen. But that name’s only ever left his mouth directed at me a handful of times and it’s never made my stomach flutter quite as it did just now. “Just..Fuck I’m so lonely Olivia.” 

I don’t really know any of the details but between conversation - mostly overheard, and the media frenzy, it was hard not to be aware of Harry’s break up two months ago. I can’t claim we were close enough to discuss it, having hardly ever talked beyond trivial issues, but I knew that despite them only being together two or so months, he’d been incredibly distant for the weeks that followed the break up. 

“I hear about you and Aubre..I’m really sorry it didn’t work out for you guys-” Harry laughs almost, a pained sort of chuckle that told me I was way off with this one. 

“It’s not..that isn’t why I..” He takes a deep breath before lifting his head up slightly to focus on where his fingers still tapped out a nervous beat on the counter. “I was lonely before her...and with her. I just, I can’t seem to get it right ever...feels like nobody wants to be with me for the right reasons.” 

“Hey no..what about tonight? Your house was full of so many people who love you yeah? Maybe your bougie wine collection had something to do with it but still,” He laughs at that, peeking up from behind his fringe for just a moment. “They- we love you ‘k?” 

“I know but, ‘clock hits the am and everyone leaves, it just gets...it gets so fucking lonely to see everyone in perfect pairs ya know?” 

I don’t really know what I’m doing but I’m doing it - my arms wrap over his shoulders and lock with a hand at the nape of his neck. We’ve never hugged before beyond a general greeting but anyone watching wouldn’t know it, his face burrows quickly into my shoulder and his arms cocoon over my waist, holding me tightly and slipping under the thick layers of my jacket. 

“I know exactly what you mean, H.” 

The hug lasts longer than I imagined it might. He smells of vanilla and the coffee he brought back in bulk from Jamaica. He lets out a shaky breath and melts further into me, nuzzling my neck softly with the tip of his nose. His curls are soft between my fingers and I find myself shhing him, lulling us both into a tired kind of calm. 

Another moment passes in the silence of his kitchen before Harry lets out an awkward cough and straightens up, pulling out of our hold and immediately covering his face with his palms again. 

“I..sorry Jules and Theo must be waiting for you..” Harry murmured, wiping the last of his tears away and letting his hands fall and fidget by his sides. 

“Oh no don’t worry they..um they already went I was actually just gonna walk.” I tell him, making his head perk up a bit. 

“Wha-It’s past twelve Liv it’s not safe, how far do you even live?” He clears his throat and his voice is clearer now, it feels like a whole different world to the one we were in just a minute ago. 

“It’s fine honestly, only take like thirty minutes walking - I’ve done it before-” I ramble, eager to put this situation behind me before I embarrass myself anymore. 

“No - let me drive you yeah?” Harry shakes his head, adamant. 

“Harry..we’ve been drinking all night, I think that’s more dangerous than me jus’ walking.” I laugh, holding his gaze for a second longer than I usually would - fuck, how do we usually act around each other?

Before I come to a conclusion, his eyes rest heavy on mine and I can see the cogs turning in his brain as he tries to work his way out of this one. Ever the people pleaser. 

“Then stay.” 

“Harry-”

“You said you know how it feels.” He cuts in, unwavering now as he doesn’t let my eyes fall from his. “So stay …’s safer anyway.” 

. . . . . 

“I can take the sofa, really Harry I don’t mind,” I reassure as he tosses me an old t-shirt and joggers to sleep in. “It’s comfier than my bed anyway. 

His guest bedrooms had just been painted and were still pretty fume filled so the sofa or his bed were the only options. For twenty minutes now he’s tried to convince me to take his bed and leave him on the sofa, despite the fact we both know he’s a little too tall to sleep without his feet hanging off the end. 

“But you’re my guest!” He protests again, coming up from his wardrobe to stand in front of me, hand on hips and an expression of concern on his face. 

“And you’re almost six foot!” 

“Hey, I am six foot.” He takes a deep breathe, exhaling through his nose in defeat before speaking again. “Okay, you can sleep on the sofa but if anyone asks I was the perfect host and you bullied me into this.” 

I laugh softly, this whole new side of Harry had never been directed solely at me before and it was honestly refreshing. Usually Nick or another friend was the target of his jokes and playful demeanor and I only noticed it from afar but now he was right in front of me, hauling pillows off his bed and sticking his tongue out when he caught me staring. 

“Are you sure you’ll be alright?” He asks for the third time since I agreed to stay the night. We’ve just finished setting up the sofa to sleep on and despite the duvet and many quilts far more lush than my own actual bed, he seemed unconvinced it was enough. 

“I’m sure” I sit back into the pile of blankets and pillows, tucking my feet underneath me and looking back up at Harry. “If you’re really not, just come watch a film with me and see how cozy it is.” 

The quick change in dynamic was a lot smoother than I’d imagined. Within an hour of being alone together we’d already talked more than in all our past interactions, not to mention how close we’ve gotten. He only nods his head quickly and he’s settling under a quilt beside me, rummaging around for a controller to pull up netflix again. 

“Mamma Mia two?” He asks. 

I chuckle a bit and nod. At the beginning of the evening I hadn’t quite seen it ending in a Mamma Mia marathon with just me and Harry. 

He presses play and as the opening display begins we both lean back into the sofa and pull the blankets up over us. It’s only in the quiet of the first few scenes that I notice we’re matching. We’re both dressed fully in his clothes, grey joggers and t-shirt - his rolling stones, mine fleetwood mac. And it all smells of him. I pull the blanket a little higher over my chest and the faint, but now familiar, scent of vanilla and coffee fills my lungs and for a second all I can focus on is how desperately I want to be in his arms again. 

. . . . .

“-ow” A groggy voice mumbles from above me and I feel myself being pulled forwards slightly against something hard - and warm. 

I’m a few seconds from falling straight back asleep before I feel the painful ache in the side of my neck. I reach a hand up to gauge my current situation and feel my fingers plunging into soft hair - soft hair that ends too soon to be mine. 

“Hi..” I recoil my hand quickly back to my side and push myself up so I’m sitting slightly. I look down and see Harry, half asleep still and hand still resting on my side. 

“Oh-hey sorry,” What do you say when you wake up beside the guy you barely knew but simultaneously had been incredibly vulnerable with just the night before? 

Harry seems to be waking up now and certainly more aware of our predicament as he pulls his hand away from where it was holding firmly onto the material of my - his - t-shirt and pushes himself up to sit against the arm of the sofa. 

“We must have fallen asleep..sorry I didn’t mean too, ya know…” His eyes flutter between where I sit opposite him and the “Are you still watching?” Netflix screen. 

“It’s fine, accidents happen an’ everything.” I smile, slipping out from the warm cocoon of blankets to stand. “I’m just gonna wash up quickly and I’ll be out of you hair.” 

Before I can rush off to tame my hair and hopefully find some toothpaste to rid me of my morning breath, Harry clasps his hand gently around my wrist and tugs slightly to get my attention. 

“Not in a rush Love, I’ll make us some breakfast.” He says it effortlessly, like it was a regular occurrence for us to fall asleep cuddling on his sofa. He stands, groaning as his knees pop appreciatively and lets my hand go before he’s disappearing into the kitchen.

“Okay…” I murmur to myself. “....okay.” 

. . . . .  

Alice is back at my table with my second refill before 11am. I thank her and take a gulp of the fiery ginger tea before reading over the last three paragraphs I just wrote. The spice licks my tongue as I tip the cup up for a second sip; it’s autumn after all. 

In the last two weeks September had slipped into October and all the trees in London had received the memo. I’d been busy, hoaled up in the quietest corner of Blondies the whole time with coffee filling all my senses. I haven’t seen everyone together since that night at Harry’s. I grabbed lunch with Eleanor the Monday afterwards and told her nothing, preferring to avoid the texts my phone amassed over the fortnight. I've turned down all proposed group activities and focused on work instead. To be fair, I do have a lot to get done. There were always seasonal pieces in my to do list and with the weather getting colder it was time I got to them before it was Christmas already. 

I haven’t talked to Harry either. He made us pancakes with blueberries and maple syrup in the morning and we haven’t even texted since; I’m not sure that we even have a private text between us. Eleanor and Julia have told me how much fun they’ve all had the times I’ve politely but persistently declined, I can only assume Harry’s in the mix with them all. He’s in town for awhile if I’m remembering our breakfast chatter correctly, it makes sense that they’re all hanging out together really when they don’t often get time together. Ellie’s phone calls keep me from sliding into thoughts of how easily I could fall right out of the group and not be missed, at least. I was just taking space for work. The fact that most of my afternoons at the cafe disappeared into me analysing anything I might ever have felt or said to Harry means nothing at all. 

Neither does the heightened pace of my heartbeat when he walks through the stiff wooden  doors of Blondies. 

He orders what I assume is his regular black coffee, scans the room for a second and lands directly on me. He hesitates a little to hold my gaze, turning his head to look outside before looking back at me and smiling. He thanks the server and takes a few quick steps towards me, weaving in between the packed tables to my little spot hidden away in the corner. 

“Hi,” He smiles again, although his toneos overshadowed by a slight anxious hilt. “Can I sit?” 

Nodding, I close my laptop and pull my tea closer to me to make a space for him. 

“Hi.” He repeats, smiling a little sheepishly. 

“Hi,” I wait a second, nervous to start when I’m so unsure of how this conversation has already gone in his head. But he doesn’t say anything so I push through and bite the bullet against my better judgement. “Look, about that Friday I-”

“Can I just-” He cuts me off, leaning forwards and opening his hands out as he mulls over his next few words. “I’m sorry if it was awkward at all, I didn’t mean for anything to happen and I thought we were fine an’ everything but then I haven’t seen you in two weeks and Ellie keeps saying you’re not comin’ out. Did I do something wrong?” 

“Oh god no,” I hurry, “You didn’t do anything it was just - I didn’t expect to wake up..like that...and it was just a really quick change because we’ve never really been close and suddenly it was just, us, like that.” 

He nods, pushing a loose curl back a second later that broke free in the motion. He seems understanding as he looks down before leaning his elbows against the table so only the two of us can hear what he’s about to say. 

“I know, I didn’t expect it either but, can I just tell you I’m glad that it happened?” He leaves a three second pause for me to flounder in confusion before continuing. “What I told you, ‘bout feeling lonely, it messes with my sleep all the time. I just get stuck in my own thoughts but the night you stayed over I slept fine - perfect even.”

Not sure what else to do with this new information, I nod for him to continue.

“I know we’ve never been close, but hanging out with you just really calmed me down.” He smiles, gaining confidence now in his vulnerability tucked away in our little hiding place. “Thank you for staying.” 

“I get what you mean.” I mumble, slightly anxious any of the busy customers with prying eyes could overhear my confession. “I never really know when to stop working and I think I got the best night sleep on your sofa I’ve had in awhile, which really speaks volumes about how crappy my mattress is.”  

He chuckles. Relief seems to settle in as he lets his shoulders relax and face soften. 

“I was thinking - especially now that I know it was good for you as well, maybe it could become more of a regular thing?” He asks, his forefinger and thumb pinch together and twist one of his rings a little - a nervous habit, I’m sure. 

“How do you mean?” 

“Like..when we all go out, maybe we go home together, you know - so we can sleep better.” He moves down to focus on the metal rose he’s still fumbling at. “If..if you don’t want to or you think it’d be weird it’s fi-” 

“I’d like that.” I reach forwards to comfort him, absentmindedly cupping my fingers around his. “I think it’d be nice, to get a good night's sleep I mean.” 

“I’m glad.” He beams.

“..That and you make a mean blueberry pancake.” I tease, earning a light chuckle from Harry. 

Just like our last cafe encounter, the ping of a his phone beats me to my new few words. He checks it quickly, shaking his head and glancing down the large room to the shop front where, once again, Jeff waits. He seems a little more agitated this time, waving vigorously whilst trying not to attract the attention of passersby, all  rather unsuccessfully. 

“Bollocks okay - I’ve gotta go,” Harry swears, collecting his coffee from the table and pushing his chair back quickly. “I’ll just - we can text before we go out next yeah?” 

“Cool, yeah - wait a sec, let me just give you my number.” I reach up for him to hand me his phone but he doesn’t make any effort to move, instead he blushes slightly and stares at the floor. “..What?” 

“I um, I already have it.” He fiddles with the hair at the nape of his neck before talking again. It’s hard not to remember how it felt when it was my fingers carding through his brown curls. “I got it from Theo awhile back when we were going to this thing, felt weird not having it. I hope that..okay and everythin’” 

I nod, smiling up at him. The idea of him having a part of me for this past year without me even knowing is oddly precious. The fact that he felt odd about not having my number and going to the effort of getting it from Theo was unbelievably endearing. 

“That’s fine, helpful actually.” I smile still, “Text me before we meet everyone and we’ll make a plan or somethin’” 

“Okay,” He smirks, his slight cocky nature reemerging. “Will do, Liv. See you soon?” 

“See you soon.” 

Jeff flies a hand up to his hair like before but this time is met with a grinning Harry who doesn’t seem to mind so much. 

. . . . . 

Unknown Number 

‘Hey! Is tonight good? We can slip off after drinks at the gallery. H x’ 

I look down at my phone. Caught off guard by the sudden text, I’d almost forgotten out arrangement. Julia invited us all to a gallery opening of one of her friend's new exhibits. Even as I flicked through my wardrobe for the right jacket, I hadn’t put two and two together and realised I’d be seeing Harry again for the first time since our chat at Blondies four days ago. 

I save his number and I think quickly, not wanting to leave him on read when he knew I’d be leaving to see them all any second and most likely spend the whole tube journey on my phone. 

‘Hi :) That’d work for me yh, just let me know when you want to leave and I’ll make an excuse. Liv x’ 

With another thought rushing through my head, I send a quick follow up. 

Me

‘Can we keep this between us right now? Might be a bit tricky to explain to the others.” 

Harry

‘Read my mind love.’

‘See you in a bit :)’ 

I’m still not the hugest fan of the airy feeling that rushed through my stomach as I read over the pet name. He was just from Manchester, it was normal up there to call everything by casually affectionate little names. It didn’t mean anything at all. 

. . . . . 

“Livia!” Nick calls out when he sees me scanning over the faces at the entrance to the gallery. I smile instantly and make my way over, quickly falling into his arms as he rocks us for a second. “Haven’t seen you in an age!” 

“‘Ve been working, we can’t all piss about Monday to Friday.” I giggle, smiling wide as he murmurs something under his breath and plants a big kiss on my cheek. “Is everyone here?” 

I try not to look suspicious when I peak over around us, trying to pick a certain brunette from the crowd.

“Yeah, they’re just over there with Julia’s friend.” Nick points and I see him immediately. He’s dressed just as I expected - half gucci half grandpa sweaters. “I’m gonna get us drinks, meet you there?” 

“Mhmmm” I hum, breaking out of his hold and slipping through the crowds to our small group of friends. 

“Hi!” Julia smiles brightly. She hugs me quickly before stepping aside to give Eleanor and Theo their turns. They all whisper quiet ‘Missed yous’ in my ear as if I’ve been gone for years. 

“Hey,” Harry appears by my side as everyone else turns their attention to the front of the crowd where it looks like the artist is setting up to introduce the night. “How’ve you been?” 

“In the last four days?” I chuckle, “Good. Not been sleeping great, but I’ve got a lot of work done so that’s been great.” 

He nods approvingly. A smile tugs at his lips at the mention of sleep, almost like some secret inside joke we’ve managed to form between just the two of us. 

“Me neither. Jeff’s been buggin’ me what feels like every hour with deadlines.” I find myself squeezing his hand a little under his long coat sleeves so nobody can see. “Looking forward to just collapsing tonight, if I’m honest.” 

“Me too.” I smile tiredly, tonight had been a big ask come to think of it. I've had work piled up twice my height all week and even having worked day in and day out I’ve still only made a crack in the mountain of final edits and emails to respond to.

Harry squeezes my fingers back and our hands linger in each other's hold until Nick emerges beside us and the artist begins her speech. 

. . . . .

 The comfortable chatter surrounding the booth we’d taken up a few hours ago died down as the clock ticked later and later. We’d left the gallery a while ago now in favour of the after party at a pub down the road but by now the heavy scent of beers and various gin based concoctions were giving us all headaches. 

“I think I’m gonna call it a night guys,” Harry announces, a slew of groans following from the group. “Sorry, sorry! It’s been great but it’s getting late.” 

Julia and Theo move out the way to let him out the booth. He slides across the red cushion to stand, pulling his coat over himself as he sneaks a quick look at me. 

“I think I’m gonna head off too,” I smile, waiting for Eleanour to stand and let me out as another wave of complaints flooded me. “Sorry! I’ve got work and the tube’ll be hell any later.” 

“Well if Harry’s going too couldn’t he take you home?” Julia suggests, looking between the two of us as we now stand slightly away from each other. “You drove right?” 

“Yeah, I did.” Harry turns to smile at me, amused clearly by how our plan was being unknowingly encouraged by our friends. “C’mon, I’ll drive yeh.” 

I nod, biting back a smirk. We say our goodbyes and wave as we slip out the heavy pub doors out onto the road outside. It’s started to drizzle slightly and I resent choosing the jacket without a hood. 

“I’m just over here,” Harry points a little ways off. “Hurry, think it’s about to pour.” 

We walk quickly down the street and through a metal gate into a car park when there’s a loud rumble of thunder and immediately the rain thickens. 

“Fuck!” Harry laughs as he scrambles for his keys, we match each other's paces until we’re practically sprinting to his car in the far corner of the lot. The click of the locks sounds out and his lights flash red a second before we’re both pulling the doors open and throwing ourselves inside onto warm seats. 

We catch our breath, chests rising and falling with uneven pants before our laughter settles and Harry slots the keys into the ignition. 

. . . . . 

“Do you want anything to eat?” Harry asks as he closes his front door behind us and we kick out shoes off in his hall. “I think I have some takeout menus somewhere..” 

“I’m not really hungry, thanks though,” I cut off his search as he walks through to his kitchen and starts opening draws. “Kinda just wanna go to bed now.” 

He nods and rubs a hand under his eye in silent agreement of my exhaustion.

“I’ll make us a tea, meet you up there yeah?” He calls over his shoulder, having turned quickly to retrieve various packets from his cupboards. “Chamomile okay?” 

“Yeah chamomiles good,” I hover for a second in the archway leading into the kitchen, suddenly awkward to be alone in his house again. “Where um..where is it?” 

He looks over his shoulder at me, slightly confused. His eye brows unfurrow when I motion behind me. 

“Oh- just up the stairs and third room down the hall..on the left.” He smiles, turning back to the cupboard to look through his extensive mug collection. 

I nod to myself, spinning on my heel and making my way up his stairs. I’ve never gone beyond the downstairs of his house before and even then I stuck to the kitchen, dining room and lounge. It felt odd to suddenly have access to something as intimate as his bedroom, I try not to overthink things as I push open the third door I see.

The first thing I see is his large bed, there’s probably enough room for three people on it and there’s definitely enough pillows to go around. The room as a whole is tidy, whether it’s always like that or only organised so precisely for my visit, I don’t know, but the thought makes my stomach flutter. 

I walk up to the side of the bed with no charger on it’s table and set my bag down. We hadn’t talked about the logistics of our...arrangement, but I’d brought the basics to last me through the night. I plug my charger into the wall and take out my wash bag and a set of clothes to sleep in before sliding my bag under the table. I look around for a second. Somehow I hadn’t really thought through the fact that by the end of the night, I’d be in Harry’s bed. With Harry. In a completely platonic way with the only function to soothe our mutually crappy sleeping habits. 

I hear Harry walking up the stairs just as I slip into the un suit to wash up and get changed. He’s humming a song under his breath. The clink of mugs being set down is followed by wardrobe doors opening and closing and a light thud of clothes being thrown on the bed. 

I wait a few minutes to make sure I don’t walk in on him changing. Opening the door tentatively, I step out into the room in a large sweater and pajama shorts. Harry turns to look at me, he’s in the same t-shirt he wore last time and a pair of boxer shorts and the whole situation suddenly seems so amusing. After just one night of falling asleep on the sofa together, not having ever talked before, here we are standing at our most vulnerable about to cuddle in his bed together.

“Hi.” 

“Hey,” He nods, looking down at himself. “Hope this is okay...I don’t want to make you uncomfortable or-” 

“It’s fine,” I reassure him, “I didn’t really know what to wear either.” 

His eyes flicker down my body and he smiles back up at me. He motions to the bed and we both nod a little awkwardly before making our way over to our sides. I climb in and instantly let a small groan out as my body sinks into the mattress, the pillows and duvet feel almost like a cloud as I burrow under and pull my tea up to my lips. 

Harry chuckles from beside me, I peak over the mug to seem him grinning down from where he sits slightly taller in the bed.

“Sorry, you look comfy.” He laughs a little, 

“I am, your bed’s insane.” I set my mug down and turn to him, bouncing slightly to emphasise the quality of his mattress that probably cost more than a year of my rent. “I really should start earning millions, feel like it’d suit me.” 

He returns his tea to the bedside table and copies me, turning to face me with his legs crossed. 

“It definitely would.” He smiles, bouncing a little before I let out a yawn. “Tired?” 

“Exhausted.” I mumble, hand still covering half my face. Harry reaches behind him to turn to switch the lights above his headboard off before pulling the duvet back for us to slip under.

“C’mere,” Without hesitating, I shuffle back slightly until I can feel his chest behind me and an arm come up to rest around my hip. “‘This okay?” 

“Mhmmm,” I hum, “What about our teeth?”

“We’ll brush ‘em in the morning,” I nod, groaning again as all the aches in my body subside as I sink into his arms and the foam mattress. “You okay?” 

“Yeah,” I mumble, embarrassed to have let myself go so easily around him. “Your mattress is just unbelievable. Might have to make this a regular thing.” 

I speak before I think, mind clouded with sleep and my eyes already fighting to stay open. 

“That’s the plan, love.” 

. . . . . 

When I wake up, Harry’s arms are tight around my middle and his body’s like a furnace behind me. I vaguely recall pulling my sweater off in the night to cool down as I lay now only in a vest and shorts. I slept better than I have in months though, despite the warm breaths on my neck turning my cheeks flushed. 

The mix of Harry’s company and his safe haven of a mattress made for the perfect night sleep. I push back slightly into his chest and feel his arms tighten around me and a low murmur of his voice in my ear. The clock on my bedside table reads 6:30. It’s a Saturday and I can quite easily imagine spending the rest of my day - weekend even, exactly like this. 

I slip back to sleep for a little awhile before I’m woken up to a low groan behind me. Harry shifts slightly, burying his face in the base of my neck and squeezing around my waist again. He must still be half asleep to be this comfortable with me. 

I’m proven right when it takes another fifteen minutes for him to poke his head up over my shoulder and mumble: 

“Breakfast?” 

. . . . . 

Our routine works smoothly for weeks. After sleeping so well the first few times, it became a given that we’d pile into Harry’s car after every night out with our friends and go back to his. Sometimes we’d get takeout or watch a film, but it wasn’t so rare that we’d just stumble out of his car, or a taxi - depending what the night had entailed, and walk with eyes almost closed straight to bed. 

I stopped bringing things every night about two weeks in when a new toothbrush appeared next to Harrys and an oversized t-shirt of Harrys found its way onto my side of the bed. We also ditched the awkward pleasantries. Spending two or three nights a week in his house, I’d become pretty familiar with it all. I sometimes brought us breakfast if it was a weekend, or left a coffee beside the bed for him if I left for work first, We had very easily slipped into an oddly familiar sense of domesticity. It was strange to never mention any of it to our friends, it made it special though. We helped each other, and it was all just between the two of us. Nobody else knew Harry taught me how to make coffee just the way he likes it, or that we share his lavender shampoo sometimes. 

“Ols?” Harry calls up the stairs to me. We’re running late to Julia and Theos anniversary dinner. 

“Coming!” I yell back, reaching into his wardrobe to snatch a jacket before running down the stares. 

“Oi! Slow down love, you’re gonna fall,” He complains, holding his hands out at the bottom of the stairs to catch me as I skid a little on the wooden floors of his hallway. “Hey! This’s mine!” 

He tugs playfully on the opening of his jacket. I pull the fabric from his grasp and smile up at him. 

“Not anymore…” He scrunches his nose up and pulls me towards him. The sudden movement pushed the air from my lungs suddenly. “-Fine! Just for tonight...nobody’ll notice anyway, you only just got his one.” 

He shakes his head, bringing his fingers up to tickles across my stomach quickly before letting me go and clapping his hands. 

“Shoes now!” He points down at my sock clad feet, “Come on we’re late already.” 

I sling my bag over my shoulder and slip my boots on before trailing after him to the front door. He’s pulled his large green coat off the hangar before he’s looking back down at me, brows pulled together in confusion. 

“What’ve got yeh bag for?” 

“Ah see Harry, I tend not to leave my stuff places I don’t actually live.” I laugh.

“You’re not coming back tonight?” The confusion’s not joined by a hint of sadness as his hands fall from the door knob and he turns to face front on. 

“Oh I..hadn’t thought ‘bout that. I’ve gotta water my plants.” I haven't been home in two days, I spent the whole day at Blondies yesterday then headed to Harry's after a few drinks with him and Nick. We’ve hung out around his house all day, sleeping in and finishing our last few bits of work for the week. “I can let them go a little dry I guess-” 

“Can I come to yours?” Harry cuts me off to ask. “It’s just, I haven’t ever seen it..and that way your plant’ll be fine.” 

I stay quiet for a second. Our world of sleepovers and movie marathons and home made curries for dinner existed within his house. My flat was small in comparisons to the homes of our friends, who were all, delicately put, pretty well off. Not that I wasn’t, I’d just gone into a lower paying area of my industry. I lived alone anyway so there wasn’t much point paying thousands in rent when I didn’t need much space. 

“It’s fine it you want a night to yourself I can just-” 

“It’s not that, H, I just didn't really think about how we only ever come here.” I mumble the last part, “Come back to mine, I don’t feel like going back on my own anyways.” 

I smile a little, unsure of where we stand on the whole admitting we’d grown pretty dependent on each other’s presence, front. He smiles back, twisting the door open and holding it for me as I slip under his arm. 

The car clicks unlocked and I settle into my seat. I reach over to push my seat belt in as Harry pulls his door shut and the car rumbles to a start. 

“Can’t believe Jules and T have been together so long.” He sighs as we pull out onto the main road. 

“Tell me about it,” I gaze out the window as rain dribbles lightly. “Feels like the year just went straight by.”

“They seem so happy still, like they’re still honeymooning,” Harry hums. 

“I remember when they just started going out in Uni, even then it was obvious they’d end up together.” 

“I like those kinds of people. The ones who make each other just completely themselves, ya know?” He glances over at me before turning back to the road. 

“Yeah...they’re proper soulmates aren’t they.” 

. . . . . 

“Okay but seriously, what the fuck is up with you and Harry?” Eleanor bursts out as soon as we reach the bar. We’ve been sent off to get the third round whilst the others stayed at our favourite booth of the pub we frequented. 

“Wait what?” I yell over the loud chatter of the pub, “What do you mean?” 

“You know what I mean!” She’s still waving her hand out for the bartender when she glances down at me again. “You’re tryna say you’re suddenly so close and nothing’s happened between you?” 

“We’re not that close.” I quip, “We’ve just talked a bit more lately, I guess.”

“And nothing’s happened?”  She raised a brow at me suspiciously. “You guys have left together every night for the past few weeks, just admit you have feelings for each other.” 

“No, nothing’s happened.” I sigh, unsure if I sound convincing or not. “We just live close and it’s too cold now to get the tube back so late, he’s just being nice. You know Harry...he’s like that with everyone.” 

Eleanor laughs a little, shaking her head. She places our order with the bartender when he makes his way to our side of the bar before turning back to me with her arms crossed. 

“He’s nice to everyone, but he’s not just being nice to you.” She smirks, “And he usually doesn't give just anybody his clothes.” 

She reaches out and rubs the fabric of my - Harrys - jacket between her thumb and forefinger. She looks up and quirks her brows up a little again. Before I can splutter out an explanation our drinks are being laid out on the counter beside us and Eleanor is pointing to the ones for me to carry and turning back to our booth. 

A surge of anxiety washes over me as I follow Eleanor back to the group. My breaths feel unsteady and I can’t help but dart my eyes to get a quick glance at Harry to see if he’s experiencing the same kind of interrogation. He seems fine though, laughing at something Nicks said. 

Soon we’re at the booth, slipping back into our seats and setting the drinks out in front of everyone. Harry’s eyes hover on me for a few seconds, brows raised a little in question. I smile and shake my head - everything’s fine. 

I don’t miss how Eleanor glances between us throughout the whole night. Especially not when a different two get up for the next round and Harry and I are pushed next to each other when they climb back into the available seats. Harry seems a little suspicious too. He clearly hasn’t noticed Eleanor’s strange behaviour - or doesn’t care - because he’s kept gazing down at me every now and then since we came back with drinks hours ago. When I stop looking up at him, nervous Eleanor might question me about his constant and slightly nervous glances when we’re alone, he reaches his hand under the tables and pulls mine into his lap. He squeezes our hands every now and then. He’s always a touchy, cuddly drunk. Normally it’s a bit more obvious; he’ll wrap his arms around one of us on the dance floor or lap his head on a shoulder, nothing too intimate. Just friendly. But now he’s stroking his thumb over my knuckles and tapping out the beat of the current song playing with his foot, his knee bumping mine. 

Julia and Theo are the first to go. Relief settles in me at the idea of not being the first two to leave for once. There’s no way Eleanor wouldn't’ve have noticed me and Harry sneaking the other a glance like we usually do to signal we’re ready to go, without some kind of distraction. 

“It was so lovely guys, feels like we haven’t just sat down and talked in so long!” Julia smiles, leaning into Theos side tiredly as they say their goodbyes. 

“I think I’m gonna head off too, it’s getting pretty late,” I smile, waiting for Harry to speak when Theo pipes up before him. 

“Livs, you want a lift?” Theo looks down at me. 

“Oh Olivia, that’s a good idea, you were just saying how it’s too cold for the tube.” Eleanor beams, smiling cheekily as she knows I’m the only one who’ll understand her subtle teasing. 

“Oh I-” I stutter before Harry’s squeezing my hand again and looks up at Theo. 

“I was actually gonna take her home, we’re only 10 minutes apart so it’s just easier.” He smiles politely, if I couldn’t feel his foot hooking over mine I’d believe he was just being nice and helping out a friend. 

“Yeah but you’re gonna stay a little while aren’t you?” Julia countered, “We’re pretty close, it’s fine really.” 

I nod, motioning to slide out of the booth. Harry lets me by, dropping my hand before anyone else could see. Julia, Theo and I say goodbye quickly and head out to the car park. As soon as we’re all strapped into their car, I pull out my phone and click Harry’s contact. 

Me 

Meet me at mine x

Harry 

Okay - what was that about? 

Me 

I’ll explain when u get here, just something w Eleanor

U might have been right about the jacket :/ 

Theo pulls up outside my flat and I jump out the car, thanking them quickly and waving them off. I climb the stairs of my building and click the keys in my door, pushing it open and kicking my shoes off the second I get in. After a fifteen minute frantic clean, the place is looking slightly better. There’s no time to perfect it as I hear my phone buzzing on the counter, a dorky photo of Harry in one of his infamous sweaters all sprawled out on the sofa and sticking his tongue out at me flashes the screen. 

“Hello?” 

“Hey, I’m just outside,” He talks softly, “What number are you?” 

“24, wait a sec and I’ll buzz you up.” 

I tread quickly to the button by my front door and let him up, hearing a quiet thanks over the phone and a “See you in a sec”  before the line goes dead. 

A minute later there’s a quiet knock at my door. I open it and see Harry, he looks a little more tired than when I left him forty minutes ago, he rubs his knuckles under his eyes and sighs softly. 

“Hey, come in.” I pull the door a little wider, stepping aside to let him inside. He walks past me, eyes watching the floor whilst I lock the up behind us and turn to face him. There's an awkward tension in the air that I haven’t experienced with Harry before, maybe a little that first night when I walked in on him in his kitchen, but nothing like this since we’ve gotten closer.  

“What happened?” He asks quietly, lifting his head with an uncertain look on his face.”You barely even looked at me. 

“I..” I stumble over what to say, I’ve been thinking I could just explain what Eleanor had said and have it done with but now I know we’re not going to be able to just leave this. If somebody’s going to find out about our arrangement then something would have to change. “Ellie thinks there’s something going on with us and she kept staring all night. I just, I couldn’t give her anything to be suspicious about.” 

“S’that what you mean about the jacket?” I nod, “What did she say?” 

“Just that we seemed closer, talk more I guess.” I sigh, “She didn’t believe anything I said.” 

“What did you say?” He presses. His tone is unclear, he seems less hurt now and more focussed on getting answers from me. 

“I just, I told her nothing’s happened.” I mumble, “She asked about us leaving together and I told her it was just because we lived close and it’s easier than the tube.” 

Harry bobs his head a little, taking in what I’ve just told him before laughing a little. He shakes his head and brings his palms up to his face, cursing under his breath. We stand in the quiet of my hallway before he speaks up again.

“Can we still do this?” That catches me off guard. Of course I knew we’d have to stop sometime when one of us started dating or a friend found out, I just hadn’t thought seriously about it happening anytime soon. “If she does find out, would that be the worst thing in the world?”

I shake my head, taking a step towards him to close the gap between us that’d been building my nerves throughout this whole exchange. 

“I don’t wanna stop hanging out.” I confess. Harry quirks his lips up a little, obviously relieved as he pulls me to his chest. He wraps his arms around my shoulders and rests his chin on my head as we breathe together for a moment. All the while we’ve been spending nights at his, there’s been no serious moments like this. We’ve opened up about vulnerable subjects and confessed more than we probably should have to each other, but never anything like this. There’d never been a  time I thought I could lose him. 

“What if something did happen.” He whispers into my hair. 

“Like what?” I murmur, voice a little muffled by his jacket. 

“Like..” He trails off a little and I’m pretty sure I hear him inhale a little and smell my hair. “Like what if I kissed you..or something.” 

“Or something?” My chest tightens, stomach fluttering suddenly. 

“Mmhhhmm,” He hums, “What would happen then?” 

“Eleanor would have a field day.” 

Harry laughs, shoulders shaking a little as he giggles above me. He loosens his grip on my and pushes away to create a little space to see me again. 

“Oh yeah?” He teases. 

“Uh huh,” I smile, “She’d never let us forget it if she knew she was right.” 

“And what would she be right about?” Harry lifts his hand to cup my face, tilting it slightly to make sure I’m staring right up at him. 

“..Something..happening.” I whisper, “Having feelings for eachother.” 

Harry grins, cheeks a soft rosy between the outside cold and the new blush. He strokes the pad of his thumb against my cheek and beams down at me. 

“Oh yeah?” 

“Uh huh…” 

“Really..she’d be right about that?” 

“I’m pretty sure-” 

Before I can tease anymore, Harry’s leaning down to press his lips against mine. I inhale sharply, closing my eyes and looping my arms around the back of his neck to hold us in place. His hand still holds my face firmly, thumb fluttering over my cheek a couple times before he pulls away and we both breathe in deep. 

“She’s definitely right.” He smiles, tone turning serious for a moment. “I really like you Olivia.” 

Butterflies surge through my stomach for the millionth time since he walked through my door. Blushing and happy, I tighten my arms and push my face back into his shoulder. 

“I like you too H….just a little bit.” 

“We don’t have to tell anyone, just want this to be ours for a little while.” I can hear the smile in his voice as he leans back down to whisper into my ear. 

“I want this to be ours forever.” I hum, words quiet and part of me hoping he doesn't hear my honest confession. 

A comforting quiet settles over us. I remember how tired I really am as I melt further into Harry’s body, breathing in the sweet cinnamon and vanilla scent. His breathing lulls me half to sleep as I let my eyes flutter shut and bury my head further into his neck. I feel him lifting me up as my body relaxes against his and I catch his last few words before I he’s shifting me into his arms and walking us up the stairs. 

“I could hold you ‘n listen to your voice all night long, love.” 

. . . . .    

“Oh my god!” Julia yells out, unravelling a long shawl from pristine white tissue paper. “Okay whoever got me, thank you so much!” 

She continues to squeal a little as he wraps it over her shoulders and presses the end to her nose, inhaling the lavender scent of her favourite designer brand. 

I’d only spent one Christmas with the whole group before but it was clear secret Santa was a bit of a tradition. Between the six of us we all had other friends, family and mostly, relationships. Organising a secret santa within our group just relieved some of the stress of present buying - and it was fun. 

We’re all sitting around Harry’s living room, it felt the homiest  to us after all. The kiddy advent calendar I bought for him hung by the fireplace reading December 21st. We’ve all finished our egg nogs, meaning it was officially present time. Over the next few days we’ll all be driving up and down the country to visit family, meaning today’s the last day most of us will be seeing each other. Harry had whined about me leaving, begging me to stay another day with him or better yet - spend christmas with his family up north. 

It was when I told him my own parents were spending the holidays visiting my sister and her kids in New York that his campaign started. We kissed almost three months ago now and have been on a slew of dates since. Between all the secret dinners out, brunches and farmers market trips, we haven’t found time for the talk. We had no official title. I’ve heard Harry refer to me as “m’girl” a couple times when I’ve wandered into the kitchen and overheard him on the phone to mitch, but nothing he’s told me himself. Despite this, he still insists I have to come and spend christmas with him and his close family. The idea of me hanging out with my young cousins and distant relatives apparently doesn’t satisfy him. 

“Are you serious!” Eleanor gasps as she unwraps her own present. Everyone had picked the perfect gifts for each other this year. In a pure coincidence, I ended up with Harry’s name after Nick made me trade because he’d already bought Julia’s present for her. I’ve been nervous about it all evening, I was sure he’d like it, a little too sure. That was the problem. One night, wrapped up in Harry’s bed, he’d recalled his latest tragedy to me: He’d taken shroom with Mitch on his last trip to LA and subsequently decided to skinny dip in the sea, losing his favourite mustard cords in the process. The only times we’ve seen everyone else has been with the both of us present and , to my knowledge, he hasn’t mentioned this to anyone else. The brown paper package that sat on the coffee table could invite a few more questions that I was prepared to answer. 

“Harry, you’re next!” Ellie grinned, hugging her present to her chest. 

Thanks to our early secrecy, there’s been no opportunity to tell our friends we were dating. Eleanor hasn’t stopped her constant questioning but we’ve kept up a pretty good front of excuses. It was still freezing out so it made sense for us both to climb into his car together at the end of the night. Nobody had to know we would be going home to the same house where we’d climb into the same heavenly bed and scramble eggs together in the morning. 

“I’m going, I’m going!” Harry laughs as Ellie tries to hurry him up, playing perfectly into her role as the youngest in our group. 

He pulls the first fold of paper back with his ringed fingers and immediately looks up at me as the mustard fabric shines up at him. He grins wide, beaming back at me before pulling the rest of the paper back and laying the trousers out in front of him. 

“No babe...where did you find them?” He’s running his fingers down the cord, in awe to have his favorite trousers back - or at least a copy. 

I don’t miss how Eleanor and Nick’s heads turn to share a look of shock as the pet name tumbles out. Before I can put anything together, Harry’s standing and leaning over the coffee table. He wraps his arms around my shoulders, pulling me into a hug and whispering his thanks in my ear. 

“Wait I dont - how did you know it was h-” Julia pipes up, before she can finish she’s cut off by the joint gasps of Nick and Ellie as Harry plants a wet kiss to my cheek - then my lips, and laughs at our friends reaction. 

“I knew it!” Ellie yells, pointing frantically between the two of us, Harry now having stepped over the table and come to sit next to me, pulling me into his side.

“What was-” Julia stammers, “Since when!” 

Harry’s eyes flutter down to my face. He giggles quietly when he catches on to my glare. This wasn’t exactly how I’d imagined the evening going. 

“Have you just been lying to my face for the past three months?” Ellie asks, crossing her arms over her chest and pouting her lips. 

“Five,” Harry mumbles, almost just as an inside joke for the both of us to enjoy. I slap my hand against his shoulder to shut him up but the damage is already done. 

“Five months!” Even Theo’s joining in now. “How didn’t we know?” 

“It didn’t start out like this honestly, we would’ve told you.” I try and explain, eager for this to quiet down so we could get to the roast dinner waiting for us in the oven. 

“How did it start?” Nick pokes, drawing Julia and Ellie’s attention as the same puzzled expressions adorn their faces. 

“Unimportant,” Harry brushes off, standing up to tower over us all and reaching a hand back for my own. “We better get dinner, we wouldn't want burnt potatoes.” 

Harry pulls on my arm gently, leading me out the room before anyone can object. 

In the kitchen, he picks up a tea towel and starts to check on the food, prodding at the parsnips. I roll my eyes as he ties his lavender apron around his waist and tentatively pulls the potato tray from the oven. 

“Harry..” I sigh, trying not to laugh as he turn to face me, spatula in hand. 

“Yes dear?”  

“What was that?” 

“Oh - You’ve gotta shimmy a little spatula under the potatoes or they’ll break apart-” 

“No, obviously not that,” He makes it so hard so stay stern, a giggle leaks out as he lifts a hand to rest on his hip. “Why did you do that?” 

“I want them to know.” drops his utensils, tone sincere as he takes another step towards me. “I want our friends to know how much I love you already, and you remember about my mustard cords so..it felt like the perfect time.” 

“What?” I stutter, looking up at him from where he’s pulled me into his chest. His hands rest on my waist, rings a little hold against my exposed skin. 

“You remembered the trousers I lost last month in LA -”

“You love me?” 

His eyes go a little wide, a smile peaking through as the sides of his mouth quirk upwards. Realising what he just said, he lifts a hand from my waist to rest it against my face and lean down a little. 

“Of course I love you.” He whispers, his voice a little croaky and I can see tiny droplets gathering in his eyes that make my heart flutter. 

“Love you too..” I mumble. I wipe a thumb over his cheek before pulling him down into a kiss. I feel his smile against my own, and everything’s perfect for just a second. 

“So you’ll come to Christmas with me?” 

. . . . .

Hiii I hate the ending :)

Tysm for reading !! pls leave a like or reblog (it rlly helps <3) if you enjoyed it x

[aswallowssong]

Second Child, Restless Child

Chapter 9 - The Devil Whispered Lies

@valkyrie-5583

Read on AO3

If I told y'all I got engaged and that's why this chapter is literally a billion years late, would that make it better??

Jokes aside (not really a joke, I did get engaged, I just hid it in the notes a few weeks ago) spring break is one week away for this teacher, and my goal is to write a whole bunch so I can not have to post chapters like... 2 months apart.

Let me know what you think of this one!! Have a lovely day!!

Continuation of chapter 8 - Heaven Knows How Hard I Tried. The Keystone Killer has given Kit a lot to think about; including some things she wasn't quite counting on.

Kit wasn’t quite listening when they walked back into the precinct. Her conversation with JJ earlier in the day had helped. If JJ had met pushback, but now she was allowed to be a full part of the BAU team, she should stand up for herself. The director himself saw all of her reports, she could tell Ramos she disagreed with him. Especially if, for the time being, her work was good enough for the literal director of the whole FBI.

But her talk with Hotch outside of Harbin’s house hadn’t done her a lot of good. Her mind was still reeling from the events of the last hour, she still hadn’t slept since Friday night, and it was actively Sunday. 

What brought her back to reality was Morgan’s voice, deep and steady at the front of their group. It caught her up to the present so quickly she almost stopped short, which would have sent Hotch right into her.

“Well, that's got to be a first. A killer actually leading us to another killer.”

“Come on,” Gideon said from further back, “we all know they make the best profilers. They admire each other's work.”

“Ya, but usually from afar,” Elle said as they spilled into the conference room.

Kit didn’t even let herself imagine sitting down. There was no way she would be able to stay awake when she had nothing of value to add. At this point, she was waiting to get back on the jet and back to her apartment. The image of Claudia was twisting in her mind, and she couldn’t help the desperate need she had to see Monty face to face.

Hotch didn’t let her stay in her head for very long. “At least we got Harbin off the street. All right, let's review. What do we know about the Keystone Killer?”

He’s killing women at an alarming rate.

“Well, we know that he's not dead or in jail,” Elle offered.

Gideon continued. “Enjoys taunting the game.”

“Ya,” Morgan agreed easily. “He's in complete control.”

Reid was quick to add on, statistics rattling from him easier than Kit was even keeping her eyes open. “He strangled seven women in the 1980's, stopped for eighteen years, and then began again suffocating them. Ten percent of all violent crimes are caused by strangulation, it only takes eleven pounds of pressure to fully incapacitate your victim and if you hang on for at least fifty seconds, they will never recover.”

“Yeah,” Kit said, stopping short once she’d realized the words had come from her mouth, not someone else’s. Everyone’s eyes were on her, and she took a moment before she voiced the fact her brain had produced for her, however reluctantly. “It’s one of the most lethal forms of violence. Victims can be unconscious in a matter of ten seconds.”

Hotch shook his head, confusion pushing from his before he said, “When you suffocate someone you actually have less control over their death. It's actually more passive because the killer doesn't feel the life leaving the body.”

“He's changed almost everything that he does,” Elle said. She was lost, mild annoyance and confusions coming off her in waves. Elle had joined the team just as JJ did, and Kit wondered if she ever felt as completely baffled as she herself felt.

In that moment, it felt like the answer could be yes, and that was comforting.

Gideon took over then, speaking to them as a whole in a series of questions. “Why why why why? What? I mean, what's he getting out of this new M. O.? Where's his payoff? You got Carla Bromwell, she sustains a significant head injury. Blitz attacks suggest disorganization, no self-confidence. This is a guy who walks into seven victims' homes prior to this. There was no forced entry at any of the scenes. Where's the loss of confidence?”

There was a beat of silence, and she really hoped anyone had any idea. It was moments like these that made Kit feel the most out of her element. She had no idea why the Keystone Killer would want to kill anyone anyway, how could she know why he would change his methods?

“He would never change the way he kills by choice,” Ryan said, breaking the silence.

“What?” 

Ryan spoke again, confident in a way the rest of the team lacked. “We've been operating under the assumption that he purposely changed his M. O.”

It was like something physically snapped into place. Kit looked around as everyone was suddenly much more engaged. 

“You're saying he changed because he had to change?” Gideon asked.

“He knocked her unconscious. And it wasn't to scare.”

Elle seemed to be catching on, and Kit wished selfishly she wasn’t. “Because he couldn't control her physically while she was awake.”

Ryan nodded. “He could be incapacitated.”

Gideon latched back on. “At least partially.”

“Maybe an injury.” 

“Or a stroke,” Hotch added, and Gideon started nodding. “Either way you're gonna have to have medical records. Agreed?”

It took her more than a few seconds to notice that no one had said anything else, and she looked over at Gideon, who was looking directly at her.

Why is he looking at me? He never looks at me? We have a spoken rule to not look at one another during cases so why is he looking right at me?

“Colghain?” he said, and she shook her head. He most certainly was looking at her for an answer, and everyone else had gone quiet so she could answer.

“Yeah.” She said, and she saw Ryan raise an eyebrow in annoyance before she stumbled over herself to continue her answer. “Yeah, yes, sorry. Yes. There would be injury reports, charts, notes, scripts. It’s a lot of records, depending on who your doctor is and what hospital you’re at.”

There was another pause before they were all nodding, taking in what she’d said and running with it.

Morgan was first to speak. “Okay, so what are we talking about? This had to have happened after the middle of 1988 in Philadelphia?”

Gideon nodded, first at Kit, and then to Morgan. “Somebody who fits the rest of the profile.”

“It's a lot of hospital records,” Reid said, also looking towards Kit, who nodded her affirmation. “There’s hoards of people going into ERs every day for exactly those sorts of things. It’ll be a huge pool.”

He smiled at her, and she found herself taken a bit aback, but returned his grin with a shy one of her own.

“Call our girl Friday,” Gideon said, directed to Morgan, and as the flurry of movement and new hope danced through the room, she found herself feeling much less tired than she did before.

She’d been helpful. Gideon had known she was an expert about something and asked for her agreement and input before simply inserting a thought. 

Her feelings were incredibly jumbled as she stood there, waiting for directions. Gideon’s affirmation made her feel better than she thought it would, considering they didn’t usually talk if not to argue. JJ’s conversation still lingered in the back of her mind, and she wanted to talk to Ramos. If JJ could stand up to the coms department and get what she wanted, why couldn’t she stand up to Ramos?

But Claudia filled the leftover space in her consciousness, and she didn’t know if she could fight for more time with the BAU, or to try to be more fully integrated, or whatever it was that she actually wanted if the cases were going to stay with her.

To scare her. To make her feel like she needed to know that her sisters were alright, even though there was no way to do that while knees deep in a case. 

What do you even want, Kody? What do you want?

She didn’t have an answer for herself.

-----

Kit stood in front of the mirror in the bathroom of the precinct and splashed another cupful of water onto her face, holding her cheeks in her hands a moment before looking up at her reflection. 

You look exhausted.

Monty’s voice, as always, chided her. Sometimes she wished the voice of her overinvolved consciousness was her brother Al instead. Alaska couldn’t be bothered over things like that. His biggest qualm in life was the fact that his name was Alaska, and it had been quickly remedied by Ari telling him he could just go by Alex at school. 

You’ve got bigger problems than that. You’re having a moment in a police precinct in Philly while the rest of your team waits on a comprehensive file to be faxed. 

A feeling of dread shot through her chest at the realization that Monty didn’t even know she was gone. She’d been so tired and so incredibly thrown by Garcia’s text, and then Hotch’s insistence that she was on the jet that she hadn’t thought to walk down and tell Ari she was leaving. He’d been on the clinic floor; out of sight, out of mind. Then she was on the jet, and then at the crime scene. 

She hadn’t even sent a text. 

Hell, she hadn’t even really slept since then. Her time in the jet and her few minutes in the car were nowhere near what she needed, and with all the feelings and thoughts she had flying around her head, she was surprised she hadn’t crashed. She was definitely feeling “Big Feelings,” and she didn’t have time for it.

Ari and Monty always helped the big feelings. They had to be wondering where she was. Why hadn’t they called her? Or texted? They had to be worried. Girls didn’t just go missing in the middle of the day.

But they do. And worse, they’re murdered too. Right out of nowhere for no reason at all. People are sick, Kody. They kill for pleasure. They kidnap for pleasure. They’ll take anyone at any time. 

She had her phone out and dialed in record time.

“Penelope’s hotline for all things truth. Speak and know.”

“Garcia.” She swiped at her eyes. When had she started crying? “I need a favor.”

“Oh, Kit, hey.” Her voice was as sunny as always. “I’ve got that file almost through, the medical was-”

“It’s not about the case.”

There was silence on the other line for a moment. “Oh?”

“If I gave you the first and last name, could you trace a cell phone?”

“A cell phone? As long as it’s registered to the same name, yeah, I can. Why?”

“Virginia.” She said. “Virginia Colghain.”

She didn’t know why she picked Ginny. Something inside her said that Seese, George, and Lina would be at home with their mam. Ginny lived in the city, and Kit couldn’t call her. 

Ginny didn’t know she was in the field. Ginny didn’t even know she’d been paired with the BAU.

“Where should it be? Just so I know what I’m looking for.”

“Probably the US Attorney's office.”

“Which branch?”

“The one in the district. On fourth street.”

Garcia hummed as she typed, the clicking of her keystrokes halting as she said, “Wait. Wait, Colghain?”

Kit bit her lip. She was sort of hoping Garcia wouldn’t notice. 

Which is stupid, because of course she’d notice.

“Yes.”

“Virginia Colghain?”

“Yes, Garcia, can you track it or not?” Kit glanced at herself in the mirror, letting her reflection ground her. She tugged at one braid, and then the other with her free hand before wiping at her eyes again.

The clicking started again before Garcia said, “Virginia Colghain’s phone is, in fact, inside the US Attorney’s office on fourth street.”

Kit breathed a sigh of relief. While it wasn’t proof that Ginny was okay, it certainly helped Kit’s nerves. “Thanks, Penelope. Sorry about that.”

“Sure, my sweet clover. But, why don’t you just call her and ask where she is? I’m going to assume that’s one of your many many siblings.”

Because I haven’t quite told her I’m working with the BAU now, or going in the field again, and I’m not ready to have that conversation with her just yet, considering no one knows but Ari and Monty.

“I don’t want to interrupt her at work, I just needed to know she was okay.”

Garcia was quiet again before saying, “You know, we’ll get him. My system has faxed almost all the papers now, and then you can go bring him in.”

Kit took a breath, glancing again at the reflection in the mirror. She almost didn’t recognize the face staring back at her. Had she always looked so sad?

“Thanks, Pen,” she said quietly. “I, um. I’ve gotta go.”

“Go fight crime, clover. But, hey,” Penelope’s voice took on a different quality. A serious one. “You and I should talk when you get back.”

She sighed, but nodded. “Okay… bye, Penelope.”

Kit hung up the phone.

Ginny was fine. She knew that it was a given, and she probably just looked like a crazy, paranoid moron, but she also knew deep down that Penelope didn’t care. Maybe she understood.

Before she could convince herself otherwise she hit the first position speed dial, pacing a bit in front of the sinks as it rang.

“Dia dhuit?” Came Monty’s groggy, listless voice over the line, and Kit nearly burst into tears at the combination of her sister’s voice, her real voice, and their mother tongue.

“Monty.”

“Yeah, it’s me. Where are you? Thought you were in the living room, but I only hear you on the phone.”

Kit wiped at a stray tear trailing down her cheek. There was no way she was keeping it together when she finally got home.

Monty’s accented Irish was thicker than it normally was. Her voice was lower too, telling of the fact that she quite possibly woke her twin up. She bit back a bit of guilt, her own voice launching into a language just for them.

“I’m sorry, I woke you, didn't I?”

“It’s alright, I’ll go back when we’re done. Where are you?”

“Are you feeling any better?” She was stalling. “When was the last time you took-”

“Dakota.” Kit stopped in her tracks. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Everything is fine.”

“But why are you crying?”

Damn it.

She tried to keep any tremor out of her voice, but she knew Monty would always be able to tell. “I’m not.”

“Why are you calling me, crying-”

Kit sighed, her pacing stopping dead in its tracks as she tried to keep herself together. “Everything is okay. I’m not hurt. I’m fine. Everyone is fine. I needed to hear your voice.”

The coughing across the line was grating, and then, “Kody, where are you? What are you talking about? What’s going on?”

“I…” Kit started, steadying herself with a hand on the counter. “We’re in Pennsylvania.” 

“You’re what?” 

“It’s fine, I had to leave overnight. We’re on a case.”

“You didn’t call,” Monty said, obviously upset. “You didn’t even send a text. Ari was at the bureau last night, too, why-” She cut herself off to cough, the line being muffled as Monty pulled away from the speaker.

Kit ran her hand down her face. This wasn’t the conversation she needed to be having. She should have called Ari. He tended to be a little more level headed when he was upset. 

“Why wouldn’t you say anything?” Monty finally asked, voice much rougher than before. “What if something happened?”

“Nothing is going to happen,” Kit said, her voice more steady than she felt it should be. “I’m sorry, Mont. I’m so sorry. I know I should have told you.”

“Why…” Monty trailed for a moment before she said quietly, “Why did you call now?”

Claudia’s face flashed to the front of her mind, and then Monty’s; the reflection of her own staring back at her in the mirror. 

“I needed to hear your voice. I had to know you were alright.”

Another moment of silence passed before Monty asked, “Something happened, didn’t it?”

Kit sighed, sniffling quietly before letting out another, deeper sigh. “I don’t know if I can do this, Mont.”

The door to the bathroom swung open, JJ standing on the other side.

“Hey, the whole file finally came through, we’re meeting in the- are you crying?” 

Kit’s head whipped around to look at JJ square, and she hastily wiped under her eyes. “No, I, um. I’ll be right there.”

JJ tilted her head, but nodded and shut the door again. The air between the twins crackled quietly before Kit cleared her throat.

“I have to go. I… hopefully I’ll be home tonight. I’m sorry, Montana. I am.”

“Kody, wait-”

“I love you, Mont, I’m so sorry.”

“You can’t just say those things and then go put yourself in danger! You can’t do that to me! I-”

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, I-” The door to the bathroom was pounded on. “Lep! Let’s go!”

Derek.

“Dakota!”

“I’m sorry. I love you.”

Before Monty could say anything else, Kit snapped her phone shut. 

------

Her leg bounced as she sat in the SUV in between Reid and Elle. She was twisting at the hem of her shirt, and some of the threads had ripped and stretched. It was keeping her from pulling on her hair though, so she didn’t care about that. Ginny could sew it for her when they got back to DC.

If Ginny’s still there. Anyone could grab her at any time. Anyone could-

“Are you okay?” Reid asked quietly, his eyes locked on her fingers as they tugged at the material.

She stilled her hands immediately, feeling the concern dripping from his tone.

“Yeah,” she said. “Just… tired.”

“You could probably sit out if you need to,” he said, not noticing the way her face had started to heat up. Everyone in the SUV was actively pretending they couldn’t hear their conversation, but Kit knew better.

“I don’t need to,” she said quickly. “I just want to get home, so the faster we cuff this creep, the better."

"Because of your sister?"

"What?"

How could he have possibly known what you were thinking about Ginny? Did you say something? Did-

"Your sister's sick, right?"

She stared at him for a moment before it clicked. He wasn't talking about Ginny. Of course he wasn't, the only one that knew about her minor meltdown was Garcia. Monty being sick was common knowledge. 

"Oh," she said. "Yeah. And because he's, you know." She gestured vaguely. "Murdering women."

Elle laughed quietly next to her, nodding as she said, “Right, there’s that. We’ll get him. Right, Gideon?”

“Oh, we’ll get him,” Gideon said, sending more anticipatory energy into the world than usual. Kit didn’t have to think about the implications of that, though, as the SUV came to a halt outside a two story home.

They got out of the van quickly, all thoughts of Monty and going home gone as they strapped into Kevlar vests and double checked their weapons.

“I believe Walter Kern is in Sylvia Gooden's home now,” Gideon said, addressing the five of them and the SWAT captain. “Hotch confirmed he left the community center hours ago, and Kern's car's parked on the next block.”

“I want Walter Kern alive,” Ryan said quickly, and the SWAT captain nodded at his request. “I'll stand by for the word.”

“Reid, Greenaway, I'll call you when we've secured Kern. Morgan, Colghain, you’re with me and Ryan. Okay, let's move out.”

“Yeah,” Elle said, watching them as they walked away, Kit trailing just behind. 

It didn’t feel right to her that she was going and Elle was staying back, but that was one of the reasons she was even on the team.

Or, working with them, at least. There’d been too many conversations surrounding that topic for her to understand her feelings about it.

They crept towards the house, pausing as the SWAT team pried the door open. Gideon led and Kit held the rear, covering and watching to make sure that nothing happened to them. Team or not, they were her responsibility.

They weren’t in the house for very long before they could hear Gooden crying for help on the second floor. Every movement they made was succinct, and within seconds they were in the room.

“Don't move! Don't move!” Gideon yelled, all weapons drawn at Kern as he tried to hold a plastic bag over Gooden’s face.

They scuffled for a moment, Morgan able to knock Kern’s gun out of the way before holding his arms behind his back. “Down on your knees! Down! Don't move!”

Kit held her gun steady, shifting into a position that allowed her to still have a sightline on Kern; at least until he was cuffed. Not that she believed he could get out of Morgan’s hold.

Gideon spoke quickly into the com, letting Reid and Elle know that Gooden was alive, and Kern was secure.

Morgan struggled a bit to keep Kern’s hands together, and Kit didn’t change her aim. “Cuff him, Morgan.”

“Gideon, I need your cuffs, man,” he said over his shoulder.

Gideon didn’t move right away, but Kit didn’t take her eyes off Kern. She couldn’t until she knew he didn’t have any chance of getting away.

“Why don't you do this? I'll take care of her.” Gideon had spoken to Ryan, who had clearly been soothing Gooden until that moment. 

"That's enough. Now get up,” Morgan said, passing him off so Ryan could cuff him. “You got him?”

“Ya, I got him,” Ryan said, and Kit lowered her weapon as she heard the click of the cuffs secure around Kern’s wrists.

“Colghain,” Gideon said, “Some help, please.”

Kit turned quickly, realizing that Sylvia Gooden, who had just been nearly suffocated, was still crying and panicking with flex cuffs around her wrists. 

She wasn’t done yet.

The two steps to the bed were swift, and Gideon stepped aside as she spoke to the traumatized woman. “Hi, my name is Kit. I’m a nurse, and I’m going to check and make sure you’re okay. Is it alright if I touch you?”

Gooden looked up at her for a moment before she nodded stiffly, taking a deep breath before dissolving into hysterics. 

Kit grabbed her hands and squeezed gently, giving the older woman a small smile despite all the crazy going on around them.

“You’re going to be okay,” she said. “I promise. It’s all going to be okay.”

-----

Kit sat next to Reid on the jet, which was odd, because she normally tried to keep herself as far away from everyone as possible. She’d gotten a very strange read off of Hotch, though, who had secluded himself in the corner she usually would have taken, so she figured the conversation would keep her awake if anything else.

It didn’t stop her from propping a blue notebook open in her lap and tapping at it quietly with her pen. They were laughing at a story Ryan was telling about Gideon that made him seem almost human, and the laughter she shared was genuine. Gideon had stepped aside for her to take the lead with Gooden, which meant he was going to be true to his word when they were in the field. Stay out of each other’s way, and things will be fine. 

She just hoped it would last.

“What goes in that notebook?”

She looked up at Reid’s voice, noticing that while she’d allowed herself to be in her own head for fifteen seconds, everyone had splintered into their own conversations. Elle had even walked away from them, and was now engaged in a quiet conversation with Hotch.

“Hm?”

He nodded down at the blue notebook in her lap. “What goes in there? I’ve only ever seen the red one, and that’s where you write all of our medical information, and things that happen to us medically during cases. Like when I was sick in New Jersey. But that didn’t happen this time, nothing did, and that notebook is blue, and it’s much more worn, and -” He stopped short, frowning. “I’m rambling.”

She shook her head quickly. “No, it’s alright. I don’t mind. I was waiting for you to be done before I answered your question.”

Reid’s eyes widened a bit, his jaw dropping for just a moment before he seemed to right himself. “Most people don’t wait until I’m done.”

“It’s a skill I picked up in college. It’s hard to help someone if you won’t listen to their entire story.”

“Huh,” he said. He seemed to think on that for a moment before he said, “So, what’s it for?”

She blinked up at him. “Oh.”

She hadn’t thought she’d actually have to answer. She was sort of hoping that he would talk himself in circles until he was on another topic completely. He’d done it a few times over the short time she’d known him.

“Oh?”

“Well, it’s sort of personal,” she settled on.

“Like a journal? A diary?”

If he noticed she was blushing, he didn’t let on. “A little bit, it’s like-” She stopped short as she saw JJ move from her seat towards the coffee machine, and her brain flipped a completely different switch. “Sorry, I need to talk to JJ,” she said, and before he could protest, she’d dropped the notebook on her seat and was across the short length of the plane.

“Hey, JJ,” she said, causing the blonde to turn around and smile. 

“Hey, coffee?”

“No, actually I-” She hadn’t quite thought the rest out. “I um.”

She found her hands grabbing for the ends of her hair, but she stopped herself before she could start tugging. She was far too late on her meds, which were officially out of whack, considering the fact that she hadn’t slept in two days. She wasn’t even sure what day it was.

“Is today Sunday?” She said, which was not at all how she’d intended to start the conversation she wanted to have. 

JJ laughed. “I have no idea. Maybe? When we left it was the middle of the night, so I would need to check my phone.”

“Right,” Kit said, easing a bit and giving a quiet laugh of her own. “I um. Well, I wanted to tell you that I thought about what you said.”

JJ tilted her head, eyebrows pulling together. “What I said?”

“What you said about pushing back.”

“Ah,” JJ said, eyes flashing with recognition. “And?”

“I… Claudia really threw me.”

Her head tilted before she said, “The woman they found under the bed?”

Kit shivered. “Yeah.” She didn’t regard the moment with fondness. 

JJ didn’t seem to notice. She thought for a moment before shrugging. “I heard Morgan telling Gideon that you were incredible with her. That you didn’t leave when EMS got there because she didn’t want you to.”

Kit shook her head quickly, deflecting the praise. “I didn’t really do anything. She just… I don’t think she wanted all those men around her without another woman around.”

“And you were that woman for her.”

Kit stopped for a moment, watching JJ’s eyes soften. She was going to deflect again - insist that she’d done exactly what anyone else would have done, but something stopped her. 

“I want to be here,” she heard herself saying. She hadn’t had time to process it herself, but it seemed she was going to do it outloud, in real time. “I want to be a part of this, but I’m scared. Because there will be more Claudias. And more Sylvias… And more Kerns.” She moved a hand to play with the seam at the hip of her slacks. “And we won’t always get there in time. I won’t always get there in time.”

The two women stood in silence for a moment before JJ reached out and took Kit’s right hand off her braid, squeezing it gently between her own fingers.

“But we’ll always try. And sometimes?” She shrugged. “We win.”

Kit took a deep breath, allowing that thought to fill her senses. Sylvia Gooden was alive. Claudia was alive. Kern lost. 

“I think you should talk to Hotch when we get back. Not now. You look exhausted.”

They both laughed, Kit’s a little lackluster. “It’s that obvious?”

“You’ve got two black eyes.”

“Damn.” Kit shook her head, averting her eyes from JJ’s before saying, “Thank you. For listening and telling me what you knew and for making me feel like I deserve to be here.”

JJ nodded, saying simply, “You do.” She gestured to the coffee machine again. “You sure you don’t want some?”

Kit laughed, shaking her head again. “No, really, I shouldn’t. My body doesn’t know what time it is already, I think that would put me in dangerous territory.”

She stood on the Red Line platform, struggling to keep her eyes open. She pinched the skin between her thumb and forefinger, trying anything subtle to get her from point A to point B as quickly as possible. It was already dark, and she didn’t need to fall asleep on the train, or worse, while standing and waiting for the train. 

That would really cap this weekend. Falling asleep on the train, missing your stop, getting abducted…

“Do you have a headache?”

“Ah!” She jumped, turning over her shoulder and swearing loudly. “Reid, what the hell?”

“Sorry!” He said, ducking just a bit, as if he was worried she was going to strike him. “That pressure point is effective in relieving headaches, grounding panic attacks, and quelling nausea. Are you sick?”

She groaned and rolled her eyes. “No, that’s not- I know exactly what this pressure point is used for Spencer, what the hell are you doing here? At my train stop? Again? I told you that I don’t-”

“I wanted to make sure you got home safely,” he said quickly, cutting her off before she could really get going. The anxious sincerity flooding off of him stopped her long enough for him to continue. “The odds of being accosted on the Red Line are significantly lower than the Blue, but you’re exhausted, and this case made you nervous, so I just wanted to be sure you…” He slowed, a dark flush rising in his cheeks. “Got home safe. Which I’m sure you can on your own, because your field scores dwarf mine. I, um…”

He had stuttered to a halt.

He’s embarrassed. And he wanted to help you.

She didn’t have time or energy to process the fact that he’d most definitely profiled her. The sentiment was sort of touching.

Sort of, as far as Spencer Reid was concerned. 

“This… isn’t a Gideon thing?”

Reid chuckled quietly, shoving his hands into his pockets. “No. It’s, ah, a me thing. Gideon offered me a ride home, but I said no.”

She tilted her head at him, frowning as the train squealed into the station. “No shit?”

He laughed again, shaking his head and offering a small smile, his cheeks still flushed, but relief in his eyes. “No shit.”

“...Fine. But only because I’m really tired… You know, you could have said all this, or offered, in the bullpen, right? You didn’t have to follow me to the train like a stalker.”

The blush flooded his cheeks again, and he shrugged, unable to meet her eyes. “I didn’t want you to yell at me or something in front of everyone else.”

Her heart sank. 

Look what you’ve done, Kody. You made him anxious to be alone with you because he thinks you’re some crazy person that’s going to fly off the handle.

Well, aren’t you?

“I wouldn’t do that, Spencer,” She said, starting towards the train door. “I appreciate the concern… thanks.”

He looked up, eyes flashing a combination of relief and hesitance. “Oh. Yeah. Ah, yeah, sure.”

They sat down inside the train, Kit immediately leaning her head against the window. She sighed, closing her eyes.

Maybe Reid isn’t so bad. Maybe he’ll stay quiet, or read the whole way and you can actually get a short-

“You know, there’s a staggering amount of germs on the window on a DC train. Approximately 45% of people…”

-----

Spencer stalked away from her door, his long legs making him look somewhat like a baby giraffe as he turned to descend the stairs. He gave a last, incredibly awkward wave.

“See you tomorrow, Dakota,” he said.

She fought back the instinct to groan. “Bye Reid, thanks.”

He grinned as his head slipped below her sight line and she let out a sigh, her entire body seeming to settle into exhaustion. It was late, and dark, and hopefully she would be able to slip into the apartment and deal with her siblings in the morning before she left for work. She’d talk to Monty then, and Ari at the clinic, and everything would be fine.

She’d need to call Ginny, but she could do that in the morning as well. She needed to sleep first. Sleep, and then deal with whatever came.

Her hand fumbled a bit with the key as she tried to fit it correctly into the door, eyes dry and tired and brain scrambled. The residual jittery, anxious feeling of both the case and messing the the time on her medication wasn’t helping her fine motor skills, and she’d nearly resigned to search through her backpack for the flashlight she kept when the doorknob was ripped away from her hand, the door flying open. 

Something hard slammed into her body, arms wrapping around her in a vice grip and knocking the wind out of her.

Instead of words, there were hitching sobs from her attacker. Congested sounding, sad, and overly frustrated, matched with hot tears that were falling onto her shoulder. She took a breath, wrapping her arms around Monty and holding her as close as she could.

“Shh, it’s okay, dair, I’m okay,” she mumbled quietly, feeling her twin’s arms tighten around her. 

“Don't… ever do that,” Monty managed, voice gravely and tearful. “Never, ever.”

“Oi, Mont, what-” Ari turned the corner, making eye contact with Kit over their sister’s shoulder. She watched physical tension release in his shoulders. “Ah. Okay. Mont, deirfiúr, come in and close the door. She’s okay. We’re fine.”

The mixing of languages wrapped around Kit, filling her like a breath she hadn’t taken in days. Monty let go, rubbing furiously at her streaming eyes as she walked back through the door, settling down on their couch and curling herself into a ball.

Ari pulled Kit through the door, looking at Monty and shaking his head. There was no need for the mix now, they could speak as they did among themselves. “Ah, no, get up. Come on. She’s tired, you’re sick. Bed. Now.”

Kit didn’t know how it happened, but they all ended up in Ari’s bed. Granted, it was the biggest. He didn’t share a room, and he was significantly taller than both she and Monty had ever hoped to be. They’d slept all together as children often, and when they were first living in the district on the floor at Ginny’s, they ended up in some sort of pile of limbs the nights they all worked the same shifts. 

Now they rarely did. Six months before when they were back at home after Al needed to get his appendix out. A year before that when their Grandad had died. Before that? She wasn’t sure she remembered. 

Monty’s head rested on her chest, quiet congested snoring coming from her in even breaths. Her face was flushed; from fever or crying, Kit wasn’t sure.

She’d been nearly pulled into Ari’s lap, and now her head rested on his stomach, rising and falling just slightly as he slept. 

Regardless of how incredibly exhausted she was, she forced herself to stay awake and listen. To feel them breathing. To be sure they were there, and alive.

JJ’s words played in her head. 

You do.

She deserved to be with the BAU. She deserved to be there.

Her senses focused back in on her cúpla, and the stress she’d caused them. The fear. The anxiety.

But do you really want to be?

-----

It's me again!

The plan right now is to make each season (year?) a different story, with a different song as the title and lyrics for the chapters. I'm a music person, this is the only way I operate.

If you've heard a song that made you feel feelings, hit me with it!

[hitsuackerman]

Unpredictable (Overhaul x Reader) pt.24

a/n: last of the fluff before we head back to the main arc :*

warnings: this cannot be read solo

Links: part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9, part 10, part 11, part 12, part 13, part 14, part 15, part 16, part 17, part 18, part 19, part 20, part 21, part 22, part 22, part 23, part 23.5, part 25

Masterlist to my other fics: here :)

Overhaul’s waiting list: @jjk-biased @infinite-universe-love @dirtypride @blackymomo03 @azzie @purple-rabanito​ @meximorrita @awesomeee19​​ @celestial-kanzakii​ @laure-lo​ @team-wang-puppy​ @aydience-world​ @choros-main-hoe​ @colorseeingchick​ @o-dragon05 @but-kairis-not-that-smart (i cant seem to tag again :( hope this lands in your timelines!)

“I’ll be back in about 30 minutes.” Chisaki said as he stood up from your bed. Pressing his palm against your forehead, he felt your fever had only worsened. The vomiting had stopped, which he was more than thankful for, but it was now replaced with fever and chills. Though Gei had stated this was normal and that you should be fine within a day or two, he was still advised to stay till the end of the week.

“You don’t have to, Chisaki.”

“It’s fine.” He waved off. “I have something to do as well.”

Which was true. Hearing that you were craving for onigiri that only that store sold, he took that opportunity instead of having to sneak out. With Kurono now on his way, the quicker they settle things the better. Grabbing his surgical mask, he put it on before stepping into the hallways.

Being extra cautious, he exited your building as if it were something he did often. The security guard merely tilted his hat as a bow before opening the doors. Checking the surroundings, he took out his phone and made his way toward the shop.

It only took about 10 minutes to reach Onigiri Atsamu. When he entered the small establishment, he was greeted by the cook and saw the white hoodie of his right hand man. Before taking a seat he ordered what you had been craving for and took a seat.

“The bullets are ready for testing.” Kurono said with his voice low. Reaching into his pocket, he placed a prototype between them. “Mimic also reported that the heroes are wondering why activity has been low lately. Overheard them saying they might send in more heroes to keep watch.”

“Good. Things should be back to the way they were next week.”

“How is she, by the way?” Kurono took a calculated risk. Strike up a conversation to make things look normal. Though, he was genuinely curious for the turn of events. Especially for that minute second where Kai’s eyes widened. “A pain in the ass?”

“On the contrary, things have been moving quite well.” He shrugged and stared at the man making his order. His black cap hung low enough to cover his face. “Recovery is fast and her friend would be more than pleased at the results.”

“Hmm…” Kurono nodded and quickly eyed his boss. “Aight. Well, that’s it for me. I shall take my leave.”

“Sit.” Overhaul spoke up.

Not expecting that sudden outburst, he sat back down and stared at the man across him. Was there a request he forgot to fulfill? Or was he not truly satisfied with the report he had just given? Every single fault he could have missed ran through his mind till a steaming plate of onigiri was served on their table.

“Order up ya two. Hope ya like it. Added a bit more ingredients since I’m already closin’ up shop.” The cook said as he fixed his hat. His droopy eyes complimented his dark hair.

“Eat up.”

“Eh?” Kurono’s eyes went from the rice ball to Chisaki and back to the rice ball. “I’d rather not. You have more than earned my respect but I do not like to be tested.”

“What are you on about?” Chisaki commented. His face morphing into disgust. “You like onigiris, right? Or have your taste buds changed these past few years?”

“You’ve gotten soft.” He had to comment before grabbing one and savoring the goodness. “Shit these are good.”

“Take your time. I’ll be taking my leave now.” Grabbing the to go bag, he adjusted his mask and left a rather confused but contented arrow-haired man. Recalling that rather shocking moment from last night, he cringed at the memory and exited the shop.

True to his word, he came back within his stated time frame. Expecting to find you still in bed, it was a confusing surprise to find the kitchen filled with sounds of chopping and the speaker softly playing music. Taking a look at the entryway, he saw your back busy with whatever it was you were doing. Putting the bag down on the dining table, he proceeded into the kitchen.

“You’re back~” You finished rolling the last of the sushi. “And right on time too.”

“You’re supposed to be resting.” He leaned on the counter and took his mask off. Tossing it to the counter, he looked at you once more. “What’s with the sushi? We already had dinner.”

“I, uhh, I made these for you.” You lowered your head in an attempt to cover your reddening cheeks. “As a thank you, for taking care of me. I know you were forced to do it but… I appreciate it. I could’ve done it myself and do just as fine b-”

“You’re rambling, problem child.” Tucking in your hair, his touch was as soft as the word could get. Seeing how you jumped a bit at the sudden contact made his chest tingle. It was weird, the sensation, yet your reactions were always worth it. “Don’t bother hiding your flustered face.”

“You can’t just command people to show courage.” You huffed and took a piece of sushi. It was rolled just right and the stuffing placed perfectly. Offering it to him, your heart picked up pace when he leaned down and ate it from your hand.

“One of the best. Not bad, problem child.” He smirked before heading out to take out the onigiris.

Blinking yourself back to life, you cupped your heated cheeks and shut your eyes. You didn’t take any medicine but these past few days, yet you’ve been bolder when it came to your advances.

Recalling the conversation you had with Gei (Of course you called Gei when he left to get those onigiris), your best friend had ushered you to make the most out of your time. If it meant making the move, then you should make your move because it’s the modern times. Nothing but his usual speech when it comes to luring men.

Except this person wasn’t just any man. He was Overhaul.

Then again, the way he casually takes his mask off or comes out of the guest room wearing a shirt and sweats will forever be sketched in your mind.

Arranging the sushi on a plate, you walked to the dining table and caught sight of the onigiris. Putting the plate down and sitting across him, you said thanks and immediately grabbed one. The taste of Atsamu’s Onigiri was always the best. The consistency of the rice was perfect, the filling just right, and the nori thick enough to sustain the weight of savory goodness.

“By the way, I’m feeling much better now. I guess it’s fine if you take your leave tomorrow. I’ll handle Gei. Don’t worry.” You spoke up after the last grain of rice had been devoured.

“Alright.” Chisaki replied as he observed your fingers fiddling with each other.

For a moment, the air between you two grew rigid. Not a single eye contact made. When you told him that you would take care of the dishes, he found himself walking to the bathroom to brush his teeth.

As he was brushing, he couldn’t help but think. It had only been a few days but he had adjusted rather well to your company. Sure, he still managed the Shie Hassaikai but it was with your knowledge and you respected it.

Finished with everything, he headed back to your room and stopped when he saw your figure waiting by the sofa. The faint tint of red on your cheeks made him question your motives. But mostly due to the hideous pink hairband you held in your hands. Taking slow and careful steps forward, he furrowed his brows and crossed his arms.

“What in quirks name are you planning to d--” He was cut off when you hopped a bit and slid the hairband onto him so easily. His breath did a mini hitch when you pulled him down to your height and adjusted the band to pull back his hair.

“Keep your mouth shut, Chisaki.” You were beaming.

“And why should I?”

“Because I’m about to give you the best ‘thank you’ gift you’ll ever receive~” Before he could protest, you took a hold of his hand and dragged him to your bedroom. Pulling him in front of you, though he almost lost balance, you held on to his shoulders and pushed him till he found himself sitting on the floor by your bed.

Not sure what was bound to happen, he observed as you jogged towards your bathroom and came out holding a rather large sachet of something.

Sitting with a bit of distance, you opened the sachet and asked for him to turn around.

“What exactly are you planning, (y/n)?” He let out a sigh but followed instructions. With his back facing you, he did a small jump when he felt his body being pulled down. Realizing that his head was now resting on your lap, he couldn’t help but smirk at the circumstances. “Well, aren’t you unpredictable?”

“What can I say? Gotta keep you on your toes right?” Putting the mask on, you had to admire how long his eyelashes were. Not even Gei was blessed with that kind of length. With his eyes closed, you smiled to yourself. He looked so peaceful and much younger like this. “Give me your hand.”

“Not scared of me overhauling you?” He peaked and lifted his hand. Savoring the heat of your palms as you began to massage. He could get used to this, he kept to himself.

“Why should I be? You’ve fed me, saw my vomit, damaged and fixed my unit, and a whole lot of other shit. I trust you enough.” You replied effortlessly as your fingers kneaded his palms. “Besides, you saved my life. It’s the least I can do.”

Silence hugged the both of you for a few good minutes. By the time you finished massaging his other hand, you asked him to sit down and turn to face you.

“You can overhaul the face mask if you want, I’m gonna be throwing it anyway.” You told him and he did. This would have to be the third or fourth time you’ve seen his quirk in action but it still mesmerized you. “May I?”

“What will you do now?” He squinted his eyes but his actions showed something different. It had not occurred to him that he had scooted closer. When your hands cupped his cheeks and began to gently rub the remaining oils into his skin, he let out a long sigh.

“Stressed?”

“Nothing I can’t handle.” Once again, the foreign sensation hit his chest. The way you were massaging his face, the soft and careful movements you made, clouded his judgement. Seeing how your eyes widened when he held onto your hands was electrifying. Taking a deep breath in, he saw how your eyes landed on his lips… Not knowing that he mirrored your action as well. “Why?”

“Why, what?”

“You know nothing good will ever come between…” The want to say the word ‘us’ had never been stronger, “This.”

“You’re right.” You looked away. “But that doesn’t mean we can’t indulge from time to time, right?”

Knowing this would lead nowhere, you slid your hands away from his and stood up. If there was one thing you needed, it was space and a good splash of cold water to your face. He was right. Nothing good would come whatever the hell was going on between you two.

“Heh.” You chuckled to yourself as you wiped your face. Rubbing your face as you stepped out of the bathroom, you opened your eyes to Overhaul sitting cozily on your bed. Fingers typing away in his laptop. The pink hairband still showing his pretty face. Glancing at the bedside table, he had also prepared your remaining medicine.

“I have made my decision.” He closed the laptop and put it away.

“Which is?” You adjusted your position and faced him. He was still seated but not too long before he too lay down.

“I’ll take my leave tomorrow.”

“Alright.” You gave him an earnest smile before turning around.

“Do you want me to stay?”

“It all depends on you.”

“Just say it.” He moved closer to your body. The mattress dipping behind you.

Facing him once more, you were met with blazing gold eyes that seemed to shimmer in the dimness of your room. Closing your eyes, you welcomed the brushing of his finger against your cheek. When you opened your eyes, blood came rushing to your cheeks at the closeness of his face.

“I want you to stay. But, my intuition tells me I have visitors tomorrow.”

“I can always come back when they leave.”

“I can’t risk them cornering you.” Taking his hand, you intertwined your fingers with his. Surprisingly enough he didn’t protest. “I think video calls will do the job.”

Pulling you closer, the small yelp that filled the room was music to his ears. Having your chests pressed against each other, he was sure you could feel the rapid beating of his heart. The fact alone that his heart was reacting this way only solidified his need. But you were right. The plans have been postponed, any more delays and things could go to waste.

“Okay. I’ll video call you.” Smirking at your widened eyes and red cheeks, he pulled your head to rest on the crook of his neck. “Good night, (y/n).”

 - - - - -

-we have reached the final fluff chapter so be we will now be going to the Shie Hassaikai Arc :') -this story is now reaching 50% completion! -i hope you guys liked the drawing <3 lmao -thank you all so much <3 me and my fam are doing much better! we're scheduled for a swab test later in the day and our results will arrive 3 days from now! :')

[ofcloudsandstars]

Hey guys so here is my experience from last night lmaoo get ready cause it was unsurprisingly a hot mess full of white people microaggressions and me being alone as the only black person present having to deal with their spiritual charade shenanigans.

It's a bit long but it's a colorful description of the event and the experience taking ayahuasca, a wrap up of my own spiritual and magical journey and also a rant on the caucasity rampant in spirituality lol. A tl;dr is that it's sad that White People have to go across the world to take medicine from other people that have ceremonies revolving around it when.. we literally have our own stuff here that's like.. nearly the same vibe.. But more on that below.

So last night for the lions gate sun lining up with sirius star I was invited last minute to an ayahuasca ceremony in the edge of London kind of by Richmond park. The whole universe really opened up for me to do this Ceremony. 

At first I was like I dunno I mean its hosted by wealthy white people right? Admission was £200 and I was like absolutely Not, not for a medicine taken far away from it's land and I dunno how the experience was going to be like, plus it was on a Saturday night until Sunday morning and I work in hospitality and if I couldn't get Tuesdays off to at least work in the garden center growing food and plants how would I get the full weekend off? Plus the ceremony was already full. Well without even ASKING, or really thinking much about it, for once in like.. 2 years working for this company I got the full weekend off?!?! The fuck!!!!! Like I literally had to go to my director to fight my manager to try to get off Tuesdays which are the QUIETEST day of the week for hospitality but I got the full weekend off on like one of the hottest summer weekends in England. My friend co-hosting the ceremony called me to tell me that I wouldn't have to pay full admission and it was all donation to the tribe anyway (like suggested donation) anything I could give would be appreciated but I certainly did not have to pay the full fee. Then I was supposed to go to the beach with my friends in the morning but that all fell through due to unforeseen circumstances. I was thinking the beach trip would make me unable to go to the ceremony but it was just like.. cancelled the morning of lol. Lastly this guy dropped out last second so there was space for me.I was like damn it was like the Universe reshuffled itself for me many times to do this so like sure I will take this opportunity. Plus my friend in this group did work with the tribe in Brazil earlier this year and they are friends with them and do this to raise money so that they can sustain themselves better, like they are building solar panels for electricity, building chicken coups and trying to integrate little bits of modern society (like the electricity and water filtration parts, not like social media and capitalism lmao) into their lives. The last ceremony they did they raised like 2,000 pounds and this got the tribe a lot of food and funds to buy solar panels. So I was like ok this is also a good cause I always would love to help out indigenous people that protect the Earth.

Anyway there was a vibe about the way the Universe just opened itself up for this medicine that reminded me of Mushrooms. Like it's a strange thing but people that take mushrooms medicinally say it as well like it finds you when you need it. Last night I also got a great link to healing mushrooms as well and it was just the time to open myself up to that type of frequency I guess. For a while before it was a challenge to find for years I’ve been living here, but all of a sudden the universe was like: here you go! Anyway I was thrilled to work with this medicine and ground the lessons I've learned getting pinball tossed around the cosmos on DMT at the beginning of 2020 in January.

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So yes I got to the edge of London and it was in some beautiful secret entrance building painted with murals of green jungle designs, A LOT of Indian spiritual symbolism everywhere, statues of Ganesha and other bejeweled paintings of Indian gods. It was beautiful but to be frank as much as I find Hinduism beautiful I never related much to it cause it's not my culture. What I mean by 'relate' is that there is this SEVERE obsession in white western cultures looking for spirituality in Hinduism and I never really got it. Like yes it's beautiful like many other nature-based spiritual religions but we are so far removed from the climate and nature of India like why are they so fascinated by it? Then.. there were some red flags... 

Ok for starters I was the ONLY NOT-WHITE PERSON there. I think it bothered me more in this moment cause I just got off discussing with an incredible Earthy witch in NYC who changed my life who's trying to do work by providing a nature sanctuary garden for POC how nature is so inaccessible to us and it's gate-kept by wealthy white people. I could elaborate on that more later but this post will be long enough lol. But anyway, why is this medicine not accessible to POC? When it's something not even native to here either? So it's like deliberately not shared with us?

Then there were just some people's vibes like ooooh boy I dunno why but some people just felt cold towards me? Like I guess they were annoyed at me showing up last minute to their ceremony? But my friend was co-hosting it? Like if you trust my friends judgement you should have trusted her in inviting me like I am not some asshole. But they were like.. impatient with me I guess? Like 'oh you didn't bring a waterbottle?? Guess you gotta borrow one of ours.' like BITCH I don't know what to expect man the closest experience I had to this substance was DMT where it knocks you the fuck out of your body and your spirit gets catapulted into the cosmos like I didn't know I gotta bring shit, damn! And then there were some people I felt like I just didn't want to talk to. Like they already had this cold vibe towards me like they didn't think I was relatable cause I wasn't some white cosmic yoga hippie like them (sorry I am a black bog witch like leave me alone) but anyway the way they were talking about the medicine was kind of irking me too like, 'ooh can't wait to clear some stuff I just gotta clear it out you know?' I am like, Becky we gonna be vomiting into buckets like calm down.

AND THEN LASTLY oooh boy so when you do any psychedelic the space really matters right? My friend like.. assigns me this fucking (ooh boy just typing this story and reliving it I am already getting heated lmaooo) |CORNER| spot and what I mean by corner is that it is in the corner of the room but wedged between the fireplace so you are stuck between 3 tight walls and you can't fully lie down or stretch your legs. Everyone across the room could lie down but me. Then there are like vomit buckets and this white girls crystal grid blocking my path if I need to leave to use the toilet or even stretch my legs so already I am having a slight panic moment cause I hate being confined. In general, I tend to like to pick aisle seats on planes and stand on either corners by the door of the elevator cause I fucking hate being confined. So I say something immediately like: ok well can I change spots? I am worried about being blocked. Can I sit there? 'no someone is there.' There? 'no' etc. So I am just like omg I am going to have to deal with it and some people are getting a bit fussy that I am trying to demand better treatment, so I am leaving it. They at least move the pile of vomit buckets out my way lol. But these white women next to me have also taken ALL OF THE NICE fucking pillows to make themselves super comfortable pillow chairs like one for their ass and back against the wall and they were like: oh no you'll need a pillow too! (Cause the ceremony is 12 hours long throughout the night like 9 to 9) and I was like yeah... and they were like: oh no there is no more!! But like CLEARLY all of the nice cushiony things were not evenly distributed across the room and the few people who did not get some nice cushions at least had space to stretch their legs. I didn't really say anything cause obviously these two white women had like pillow thrones happening next to me and this woman literally said with a pouty face: Aww, now I feel bad cause I have two nice pillows!  BITCH, WHAT DO YOU WANT ME TO SAY?!?!?! Fucking christ. See?? SEE IT's shit like THIS that make POC hate that kind of white guilt shenanigans like, oh my god bitch either swallow your guilt in peace or give me a fucking pillow like you are trying to shift the position on to me to pressure you into giving me a pillow which you would either read as demanding or hope that I stay silent and be like: it's ok! so you can enjoy your comfort in peace and be free of your guilt. Like fuck off!!

Then there was this full time astrologer there who has some indigenous feather clip in her hair for some reason. She wanted to say a few things about what was going on with the planets. She was like: I love charting asteroids cause I feel like it's a representation of the divine feminine coming back! (I was going to be like: Me too! But the way she spoke about it was like.. not all of it is feminine? What do you mean?) she was talking about Medusa and eros conjunct in gemini right now and the myth of medusa being smited by aphrodite for being beautiful or whatever and I am thinking like I do not recall this myth cause it was Athena that turned her into the 'monster' to protect her wtf. And wanted to talk about mars retrograde that's not coming up for a while. So anyway I am like: Yeah! I love astrology too!  All that you talked about was pretty cool but I also wanted to mention some big changes are coming up with Uranus going into retrograde a week from now!! :) and everyone just like.. disregarded what I said.. Like she was like: oh yeah.. that's just an outer planet.. OK BITCH like I am pretty sure Uranus, a big ass planet that has to do with revolution, freedom and change going retrograde until Autumn is much more noteworthy than some little asteroid who's myth and energy you've completely misinterpreted being conjunct with Eros. (Eros is moving into Cancer really soon too so the conjunction isn't even going to last that long). Plus I wanted to mention that it was nice that we were doing this ceremony on an Aries moon cause it's like the symbolic start of a cycle yet it's a disseminating moon so it's also like starting off a cycle by celebrating the fruits of our success. But no one really wanted to listen to me anymore though that energy did influence my trip.

Anyway there was a part of me that was pretty bummed that my best witch friend that I did DMT with could not have come as well cause there just was no more space. At least we are always on the same vibe with everything and we would have been laughing about the shadiness of it all or excited about what's to come but I felt pretty alone during this ceremony.

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So it begins, I got my borrowed waterbottle, the smallest, thinnest and hardest pillow that no one wanted for my ass that hurt more to sit on then the thin yoga mat that was just as thick as a human mousepad and I am like: who knows I may be so out of it I won't notice my space as much. The woman leading this is someone who worked with my friend in the tribe in Brazil. She is Russian and got the feathers in her blonde whispy hair and shit I am like oh boy. She explains what work they were doing and the reason for the fundraiser like the details of what the tribe is building and how they are supporting themselves. Also the tribe that night were also doing an ayahuasca ceremony earlier to sync with us so that they can meet up in the Astral plane which is really beautiful. She also explained how they were surprised at westerners fascination with the medicine. Cause they are like: this is apart of everyday life and there are other healing plants in the amazon too. Like why do westerners have a fascination with this? It is a way to connect with the jungle and cleanse yourself and reset (once again I am making that connection to mushrooms I am like.. the vibe sounds oddly familiar), but they find westerners interest in it weird.

Ok so we start with some ceremonies to open up the space and create this 'fire spiral' altar in the middle of the room. They light the pillar candle and have a tea light for everyone in the room. We each go around to light our tea light in the spiral with our intention allowed. People go there and declare stuff like: I am free, I am aligned with my path, etc.  I think about my intention for this trip and how it feels like another pillar of understanding in my journey to connect with my heart energy, love myself and be proud of my accomplishments cause I really came a long way. I was a bit afraid it was going to be another chaotic DMT experience but I just reminded myself that no matter how bad I felt everything was going to be ok cause I have people in this world that care about me. Even if I disappear somewhere or end up dead someone will come looking for me. And I know that sounds dramatic and morbid but at one point like 5 years ago I really did not have that. I was alone, lost and suicidal. I know what loneliness can do to people and it's nice all of the friends I pulled together in London who are creative diverse witches that all made great friends with each other as well through me and it's like we created this new found family that cares and supports each other. So I light my candle and say alloud: I am protected by love and reflect that in the things I create. Anyway the ceremony leader is like.. can I say something?? BITCH!!! HOOOOO MY GOD I should I have said NO but I was like, ok, she is the ceremony leader so I am like.. go ahead.. She was like: By saying you are protected by love that's implying you could be attacked.. (Like Why the fuck would you say this?? While I am lighting my candle?? You are putting negative energy towards my intention wtf) I was like no I meant it like.. I am supported by love. She is like: ah yeah that's better say that. She did not want to correct NONE OF THESE OTHER PEOPLE when they were saying 'I am free'? BITCH you could have had the same energy like: that's implying you could be enslaved. Anyway that irritated me into my trip. I took the ayahuasca from her and as I was feeling the effects I was feeling more and more adamant about my intentions.

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I was thinking about the times when I was alone, when I was targeted and attacked by this stupid racist social group in college that made me feel unworthy of friendship and it was hard to make new friends until I was 21 cause it was a city college so most people hung out with their highschool friends until they were old enough to go out and drink so the first two years I was fucking lonely and the subject of like a lot of harassment when I did try to socialize in clubs and would run into those people there. It nuked my self esteem. Plus though I did so much finding friends magic it was really difficult finding friends that into the same things I was. Sometimes I felt like I was the only witch, the only person really into nature and magic. After college I did another spell and met this incredible witch that we synched so much (I have def wrote wild adventures with us together but she was also abusive cause at that point I still did not know how to establish my boundaries well) but I met other amazing witches in NYC but eventually we all moved. The incredible Earth witch who changed my life was the one who accidentally gave me shrooms that were like grown with love and intention that helped break down my mental barriers and help me take charge of my life and finally move out of my house I grew up in.. like completely out of the country and into England to start my life anew. In England I was successful in making a whole community of loving witch friends who really care about me and add to the ceremonies I host. I joined greenspaces to learn how to grow food and plants. I fucking STRUGGLED in my job getting my food in the door with bartending and slaving my way up until I have a cushy desk office job with healthcare. All in 2 years. I fucking hauled ass and created and manifested the life I always wanted when I was suicidal in NYC thinking that this reality was impossible. And every time I feel anxious I know that since I love and trust in myself that I will always protect myself and even if I was worried I have like a whole SET of magical badass witch friends who would help me at anything and I would do the same for them. 

When my roommate was threatening to call the police on me back when lockdown happened (long story) one friend did some healing on her and she like completely came to her senses and apologized the next day which was wild considering that she's such a proud self-absorbed person and would never do that. She realized that she was acting super ugly and was like wow I don't want to be this person. (Also I was so close to cursing the shit out of her lol but we are cool now). Also I am going away to Italy for the first time to be with this gorgeous man who wants to take me around his hometown but I am only going cause another close witch friend just moved to the neighboring town and will check up on me. She made sure to call him without me even asking to look at his itinerary and include herself and her boyfriend in a night of drinks to check up on us lmaoo. She is such an Aries I love her. If anything would happen to me she would make sure I was safe and could stay with her if something went wrong. God I could go on about each friend, how they've helped me with confidence, healing, safety and just feeling loved, valued, accepted and less alone which is powerful in this society that thrives on people not valuing themselves and where pure unconditional love has seemed to have lost it's meaning. One thing I admire about trees so much is how when they grow together their roots intertwine underneath the ground so that they can support each other upright during winds and storms. They also send nutrients to each other and help each other grow. I feel like I made a network of trees with witch friends in London and I am proud of that when I didn't have that years ago when I was alone and actively hated by a group in college. (I mean about the group it was more like a dynamic where a guy who had control over the club wanted to shun me cause he just likes the power dynamic of picking someone to talk shit about like literally if it was not me it was going to be someone else. So one party cause I did have a crush on him, I told him as I was wasted I was into him but then later apologized when sober if he didn't feel the same way. Like it really wasn't a big deal, I was a flirty 19 year old, but it was fuel for him to once again redirect negative attention on someone cause he's someone who's insecure so he likes the power of getting others focus on people and crush them. The "mutual friends" kind of didn't care about what was going on. The reason why this dynamic worked is cause in a way everyone was a bit lonely and didn't value themselves so they were willing to do anything to fit into a toxic social circle to have access to a club room and drink underage on campus to feel included and didn't want to question who the witch hunt of the week was so they could feel like they were in the ‘in crowd’. It was pathetic when one of them would be the new target and they would come to me like: boohoo I know what it feels like. Bitch I do not care and I made new friends and moved on. Fucking cunts.  -Another thing about being protected by love is like as a black woman even though I got some privileges being mixed and half European I still was subject to racism and I am still scared of hate crimes fueled by sexism and queerphobia but I have friends who will support me and understand and if anything happened to me people would care. Like yes some people in this world DO have things to fear about getting attacked cause we are not all privileged in society to not fear getting hurt Karen.

Anyway as the ayahuasca was kicking in I started getting a bit emotional cause I was thinking about people in the world that really deserve to be loved in this society that condemns us for loving ourselves which is the most important thing. I was crying thinking about black kids especially black girls trying to survive in this society or LGBT+ kids and how some people can't even have their existences respected. How people mock others for their gender identity but those people are in a constant battle with loving themselves cause I am sure at the end of the day they feel hopeless at times or giving up and have to fucking battle dysphoria and have to survive in a society that actively wants them dead and its really fucking upsetting like hooo them psychadelics were opening my heart and grief while this white woman across the room was doing some downward dog yoga shit into her bucket so she can wretch into it lmaoo..

When it started kicking in, boy omgg I felt SO GOOD but I was like..  This.. THIS (I got so mad when I realized this)  THIS IS JUST FUCKING MUSHROOMS LIKE!!!!! !!! ! THIS VIBE IS SERIOUSLY JUST SHROOMS, THE JUNGLE EDITION™   like no wonder the tribes are like: what are white people on about? Cause if they all came with their pashmina scarves, harem pants and grinch-finger dreadlocks to my woodland for mushrooms, especially when there are so many magical plants as well but they are just focusing on this psychedelic when there's also like native medicines in every land I would be a bit confused too. Like we were drinking something that was the equivalent of mushroom tea but it made you vomit it back up eventually. Ohh my god lmaooo. 

I felt so beautiful though. Some comparisons if you guys have done mushrooms: where as mushrooms make you feel these gentle pulsations like everything is breathing around you had has this gentle life breathing among everything like it's all connected (like the mycellium under a forest), ayahuasca makes you feel so sensual like everything is kind of just rolling like how the underside of waves look except the waves are large snakes. Like things start getting wavy the way snakes move but slow and sensually, think like the way a bellydancers hips can roll. It was a whole MOOD. Also with mushrooms when you close your eyes you can see these beautiful patterns bloom before your eyes like pastel art nouveau fractal patterns of tree roots, or clusters of bubbles you'd see looking at plant stems vascular bundles under a microscope or the web-like pattern you see in butterfly and dragonfly wings. With ayahuasca when you close your eyes you see like bright neon colored geometric shapes expanding like bismuth crystals, the patterns you see in indigenous textiles like triangles and cubes, sometimes they will lattice together and make beautiful neon snake-skins that gently slither together. If you've ever seen Miyazaki's/Studio Ghibli's castle in the sky it reminds me of that 'lost technology' metal blocks with runes and scriptures on it moving around. Sometimes you will be following this thread of cubes and they'd be moving around like in that scene and in this cavern of blocks you'd see this celestial-looking geometric crystaline being be revealed. It's very beautiful. Though mushrooms can make you purge, it really does not happen often. However with ayahuasca it's almost a guarantee you will vomit it back up.

So people are all wretching everywhere as the ceremony leader is singing some folk songs from the tribe to guide us through our journey. What's cool is that you kind of feel that purge coming towards the peak end of the trip like a kind of brown murky snake rising from the bottom of your body up like kundalini energy starting from the base of your spine bowels past your stomach up until it pokes from your throat opening up that passage way until you feel it in your head and you just release it all out into the bucket. Not really glam but it doesn't taste bad but then again being a bog witch I drink all sorts of murky plant teas so I am used to the flavor palate. (It's like a sweet in an aromatic way and reminds me of one of those chinese medicinal murky teas).

Also as I was realizing the similarities between this and shrooms I was like wow it's a shame that we aren't outside or somewhere with jungle plants at least to connect with that plant energy. Instead we are in this hindu spiritual retreat place but if we just did some shrooms we could have been out in the sunlight at richmond park hugging the massive ancient trees there and feeding the wild deer summer strawberries like instead I am fucking cramped in this corner vomiting into a bucket with this exotic medicine.

As my trip went on I was thinking more about my friends who care about me and support me and how much I loved them and I couldn't stop thinking about my best witch friend that I did DMT with whom I wish was there. Like we would at least have been laughing about this or vomiting together or she would be like: omg this would be such great play-write material. She is white passing but super self aware and would at least make sure that I felt ok and included in all of this. I took a moment to step out of the circle to text her about the details and the woman in the corner doing yoga and vomiting in her downward dog pose and she was cackling and of course since the medicine connects you to that heartspace I was like confessing how much I care about her and how much of a special friend she was to me and was tearing up but one of the ceremony leaders followed me outside and was like: no phones!! It's not good energy!! Omg?? Like sorry I forgot cellphones were the devil's energy, it's not like I am bored and scrolling through social media, I just wanted to connect with my best friend who makes me feel less alone thanks.. Anyway I went back after being scolded and tried to get comfortable in my cramped spot.

Some positive affirmations I did get through all this was that (bringing back the disseminating moon vibe) I was loved and should be really proud of how far I've come. I kept thinking about all the people I love and cared about and how I should express my love in little ways that will make them happy like celebrating love everyday to make sure that people can feel supported cause it was the themes of my DMT trip too but now it was clearer and more grounded. I also got messages that sometimes I tend to be too selfless and there will be a time that I will help others but I should prioritize myself first mostly cause when my cup is full or when I get to positions of power or comfort I can always share that with people I care about. It was a good conclusion to a half years effort cause this also reflected my Glastonbury trip back in November where this witch who read my tarot cards gave me the clearest reading of my life and told me that I would not do well if I did not confront my heart energy and the pain there that was still festering from the social experience at university. So the efforts I went through my friend giving me sound healing and the DMT trip and other stuff has really opened up my heart and helped me to connect with that energy and care about myself more. But there was the theme again of I really need to protect myself first. Sometimes when the white girl next to me was mercilessly wretching and wailing into her bucket I felt so emotional for her that I would fan her but I would get this loud voice in my head like: DID SHE EVEN ASK THAT OF YOU?? FAN YOURSELF IT'S HOT BITCH- SHE OK SHE GOT HER FUCKING PILLOW THRONE WHEN YOUR ASS IS ON THE HARD GROUND. After purging and trying to get comfortable in my corner I would get increasingly aware of the lack of space and how I was starting to feel claustrophobic and it was starting to fuck with me. Cause yeah I got mental health issues, but it's usually under wraps when I take care of myself like, good sleep, food and water but, I was getting sleep deprived since this was an all night ceremony, I wasn't able to eat food to fast before this, and now I can't even fucking lie down cause I was in a coffin of a corner on the hard ground. My muscles and knee joints were starting to hurt. People were so in the zone just like.. doing arm-trance dance shit or throwing up while the ceremony host was hollering some songs which no one understood the meaning to and I felt at that point it was too late to ask anyone to share their pillows. I was noticing as I was coming down from the sensual jungle slithering plane that I was in muscle and joint pain.

I was like: Ok it's fine, the night would go by quickly.. It was not going by quickly.. I remember once I was sneakily looking at my phone’s clock and it was 4:30AM. I was like ok just gotta get through this time will pass.. The ceremony leader was like intoning some frequency so loudly she was trying to channel some celestial dolphins and whales or some shit but it was so high pitched the crown of my head would be vibrating and at first it feels energizing and cool but since my head hasn't had anyplace comfortable to rest I got a tension migraine from placing it on the floor so I could feel the high pitch note like vibrating the pain in my head. Then she was doing individual healings (I also got skipped somehow in this), she would be like channeling the frequencies for each person and making sure they purged what they need to purge and they would wretch into the bucket some more as she was growling into their backs, the feathers stuck in her blonde hair, quivering as she growled, there was the yoga girl now crying releasing her purge again. Someone was sticking their legs into the air and waving them around cause of energy I guess. I am like ok ok time will pass quickly.. what time is it? *sneakily checks my phone again so I won't get yelled at* 4:32am

OH HELL NO. I am trying to calm myself down but like if you struggle with the mental health imbalance I was in the red zone. Like I have not eaten, my stomach is cleared with vomiting, I cannot sleep, I am CONFINED in this corner, unable to stretch my legs, I am in PAIN, I feel alone.. They go around offering everyone a cup again and I am like: fuck it let me take a second cup..

So I start feeling good again, I feel like a sensual snake like trying to slither across silk. (You know when snakes try to slither across silk but they cannot move across it? It's like that you are just slithering in place) but literally I also feel like a clearer message in my mind almost like the spirit of ayahuasca is communicating with me like: Hun.. babe.. You got your positive affirmations that it's your time to rest and celebrate all you're hard work but you need to remember that you gotta honor and take care of yourself as a part of self love and you being confined in this space is not an act of self love. Especially if you do decide to stay here longer your mood and health will drop so low that it will affect others healings so it's best for everyone if you try to go home early. Like I felt the spirit of that medicine actually encouraging me to leave. Like the fucking ayahuasca itself was like this environment isn’t healthy for you lmaoooo.   And I think that's wild.. It's so wild that these white women are all like: We are going to connect with the cosmic dolphin frequencies, and the tribe in the amazon and the human race, but they CAN'T EVEN FUCKING CONNECT TO THE BLACK GIRL IN PAIN IN THE CORNER OF THE ROOM, like they can't even distribute their nice pillows, they can't even read that I need help. They SKIPPED me with the individual healing. They were so cold towards me. Fuck it! Even my friend's companion dog who was there noticed I was off. She would look at me with concern in her big eyes and apprehension cause she could feel my pain turning into mentally unstable anger. I was like aw man I am killing the dogs vibe right now but damn the dog noticed and even these white women didn't?! Like I dunno if they are that empathetically shut off or if they were deliberately ignoring me. lmao, Also I think maybe cause I vibe so much with plants and genuinely want to reforest some land some day maybe that's why I feel so at home in the ayahuasca high like the medicine was really comforting the second cup but it also was like: you cannot hide within my frequency to escape pain- cause obviously it's NOT a substance for escapism. Anything but. It was like: it's time to go home and take care of yourself. (Like you'd imagine being on the brink of a mental breakdown taking this stuff may push you over the edge but it was actually very loving, sensual and re-affirming again.)

So the ceremony leaders notice since it's 5AM that most people are comfortably asleep in their piles of pillows and stretched out legs and they are about to go to bed but I go up to my friend and am like: thank you for everything, I think I should go home now.. And the women leading it were all Surprised and Shocked! 'Oh my goodness?? She's leaving?! Going home? The event isn't over!' Mind you this is by Richmond park and I live in north London by Hampstead heath so yeah it is a mission. I also could not afford the £40 uber so I was willing to take the shady public sunday morning night bus home lmao (oh no she'll expose herself to all that heavy shady energies of public transit! 🙄). But I was like the amount of time the bus would take from me to go home is probably not as long as the way time was inching slowly within that space and me being in pain. So my friend walked me out and I was trying to be as loving and cheerful and grateful cause I honestly did not want to bring down anyone's vibe. She checked up on me as I was getting my things to make sure I had a healing experience. I tried to be a little honest in being like: It was beautiful, it reminded me of mushrooms but like from the jungle.. Honestly the reason why I am leaving is cause I am in physical pain and I don’t think I can stay in the corner any longer; and she was like: yeah well ceremony is never comfortable. HOOOOOO LAWDDD. Oooof.. Omg.. Like.. OOF firstly.. The ceremony leaders each had 3 stacks of like thick pillowy matts to sleep on which ONE Of them could have been given to me and like yeah I am sure ceremony is at least bearable when you have a fucking pillow throne and mattresses and not confined in a coffin of a corner spot unable to move your legs without knocking someone’s vomit bucket over. Jesus. I didn’t say anything. I just grabbed my shit and left. As soon as I was free on the other side of the gate I felt SO RELIEVED!!

It was so refreshing being outside on sunrise, free to stretch my legs. I could still feel the affect of the medicine as things would pass me by and I'd see like this stream of energy behind them it was really pretty and cool. Since it was London in Liminal Space Hours™, there were foxes everywhere leaving behind streams of soft light as they'd move around the empty streets. The bus was pretty chill other than this fucking creep of a man walking in this dark cloud and when he moved past me his stream of light was literally some ugly fluorescent hostile neon color I was like wow I can literally see your grimy frequency right now lmaoo. But whatever, anything was better than staying silent in that cramped corner to cater to white women's comfort.

Anyway I got home, got plenty of water, took care of myself and crashed on my super comfortable bed. It was a really good decision I made I could not imagine staying until 9 AM like it was not possible and I am grateful I honored myself in leaving early and listening to ayahuasca's reminder to do that as well.

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So the conclusions I made:

White people as a modern cultural collective are fucking wild and can sometimes be a lost cause, cause we literally have medicine here that does similar stuff and more like flying ointments which can help you confront your shadow and fly to other planes but they just want to lose themselves in the mysteries of other peoples exotified cultures that still have traditions in tact to celebrate the nature around them cause white people are disconnected completely from the nature that they come from. (Also obviously to clarify I mean white people as the modern white supremacist culture, obviously not everyone individually cause I am friends with a lot of white witches here doing invaluable work connecting people back with the native land, plant medicines and traditions and many of them trying to save the Gaelic language and traditions that are still under threat and being killed off today).

Though ayahuasca can be more of a powerful cleanser than mushrooms, it's essentially the same frequency of plant medicine like the same vibe just connecting you to another land and there is a reason why indigenous people think white people are weird for over glorifying it when we have our own shit. If you are really curious about ayahuasca I mean mushrooms are good enough a job really and will better connect you to the woodlands that you may live in. 

 Most importantly I kind of understand the type of role I need to play and the path there isn't clear cut but it's important for me to keep spreading that message of love. Right now we live in a dark dank ass time line when the Earth is transiting some dark corner of the cosmos and everything is going through it's own nasty purge while we try to ascend to a new and better reality. However this new and better reality is really indifferent towards the existence of the human race or white supremacy so as the earth ascends and has it’s own purges, if people don't fucking get it together, especially white people, we are going to get taken out as the rest of the world thrives and glows up without us. It's so easy to fall into a spiral of self hate cause this shitty evil society we live in thrives on us not knowing how to honor ourselves and love ourselves. Even capitalism has twisted the idea of loving ourselves into something selfish or synonymous with splurging money to further empower stupid companies to give us quick highs from new purchases that will lose it's meaning and later pollute the earth.

On these trips a message I keep on getting is that love and life are synonymous. It's true and sad that there are many people brought into this world without love but what lets life thrive and what makes life worth living is love. And love is really that energy where we are grateful in our existence and the existence of our friends and those that support us and nature that supports us. But often what helps us understand that love is being able to support ourselves and do stuff that honors ourselves. And yes being loved IS a need, so it's important to seek out friends that validate you and that will love and support you and that you can do the same with them. If you find that network you will feel less alone and when you love yourself you will never feel alone and that in itself is true empowerment. When you have love in your life like that you can do anything and you will always feel safe. And I think that's why I was crying at the beginning of my trip cause I know what it's like to not have that. I know what it was like to feel hopeless and suicidal. We also live in a society that like beats down on kids of color especially black girls and like LGBT kids especially trans kids and it makes me so sad to think that there are people here that don't even realize how valuable they are by just existing. Like their lives don't just matter, they are INVALUABLE and that they need to fight for themselves every day and make the effort to love themselves cause honestly once they push through and really figure out how to love themselves they don't realize that they are literally a beacon of light and hope for others to learn how to love themselves too. Once they get to that place someone else who could be alone and struggling can look to them and be like: wow I do have the right to exist and be valued cause this person found a way to do it themselves even though society shat on them the whole time. And it's important to support your peers in these marginalized groups as well and be allies to those who are not well supported in this society. Like this is such a shitty timeline but people need to realize that they are made of love and that they are valuable and that the future of humanity and our peace and well being depends on their missions to find love for themselves and overcome white supremacy's demon ass structure that is enslaving us all.

Ok that is all. If you have read all of this thank you <3

[chipper9906]

Bound To You - Chapter 9: One Last Idea

< - - - Previous Chapter

WARNING: SPOILERS FOR SEASON 15

NOTE: Pairings and Ratings Will Change As Story Is Updated

Pairings: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester

Rating: General Audiences

Chapter Word Count: 6,324 

Overall Word Count: 70,628

Status: Multi Chapter Fic - In Progress (9/?)

Chapter Preview: 

“Your father shouldn’t have-,” Cas cut himself off with a frustrated grunt, a few octaves away from being a growl. “You were a child. The things he did to you… the responsibilities he forced you to bare… I’m sorry, Dean. I know you have a lot of respect for your father, but that is not a respect I can share.

“Guess we both got too much respect for our dads, huh?” Dean tried to joke, but it fell flat. “You gotta admit that God was more of a disappointment than my dad though, right?”

“The fact that your father is slightly better than an absentee and destructive God isn’t an achievement, Dean.”

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Character Key For Telepathic Conversations

'Italic Text' - Castiel

'Bold Text' - Dean

 * * *

 That morning, Dean woke up with a smile on his face.

They were happening quite often, he realized. At least, ever since Cas has taken up residence in his mind, that was. Part of him’s going to miss having Cas up in his head, helping him to turn his nightmares into significantly more pleasant dreams. He supposes that’ll all stop once they get Cas out of his head and back into his body.

Which they will.

Miracle groggily raised her head from the bed at the feeling of Dean shuffling about, yanking himself over to the edge of the bed and into his wheelchair. She huffed that long-suffering ‘how dare you awaken me’ dog sigh at him, but got to her feet with a bone-cracking stretch none the less, obediently following her owner out of the room.

Sam and Eileen were already up (as usual), huddled around the library’s table with a few sheets of paper haphazardly sprawled out between then; a stark contrast from the usual piles upon piles of books it had been the past few days. The two had their heads close together, whispering excitedly to one another as Sam over-enthusiastically gestured to one of the papers in front of him.

“Morning nerds,” Dean greeted them oh so kindly, balancing a scalding cup of coffee a little too close to the family jewels than he’s comfortable with as he pushed himself towards the two. “What’s got you two so jittery at this time of the day?”

Sam and Eileen straightened themselves up, turning their attention towards Dean. “First of all, it’s eleven in the morning. We’ve been up for five hours.” Sam shot back. “Second of all… what’s got you so smiley?”

“Huh?” Dean finds himself raising a hand to his face self-consciously, only to confirm that yep, he still had the smile planted on his face. “What? Something wrong with me being in a good mood?”

“With you? Yeah, since it usually means you’ve put Nair in my shampoo again or something.”

“Yeah, that was a good one…” Dean said wistfully, thinking back fondly to the memory of Sam throwing every bathroom product on hand at him upon seeing the state of his hair.

“Come on, Sam,” Eileen said playfully, wiggling her eyebrows at Dean whilst nudging at Sam’s elbow with her own. “Obviously, Dean had a… nice dream…”

Sam’s questioning frown quickly broke out into an amused grin, the two sporting similar expressions that they wielded against a quickly reddening Dean. “Ooohhhh… Was that it, Dean? Did you and Cas have a nice ‘talk’ about… y’know, recent events?”

“Shuddup,” Dean grumbled, shooting the two warning glares as he slammed his coffee cup atop the table.

‘You’re very adorable when you blush, Dean. I’ve always wanted to tell you that.’

‘You shut up too. You’re only going to make me blush more.’

‘All the more reason to keep complimenting you,’

“See, look!” Eileen exclaimed jovially to Sam, waving to Dean’s blank face. “He’s been awake, what, ten minutes? Can’t go more than ten minutes without Cas!”

“Actually, Cas was giving me tips on the way I can run over both your feet with my chair and make it seem like an accident.”

‘I did no such thing!’

“Damn Cas, and you want me to hide a bag of Miracle’s crap under their mattress? Now that’s just cruel.”

‘Don’t think I won’t take over your body to apologize, Dean. I’ll do it.’

“Yeah, sure Dean,” Sam’s voice dripped with sarcasm as he shot bitch face number twenty-eight at him. “I’m sure Cas was the one to come up with such childish ideas. I bet Cas has never played a practical joke in his life.”

Dean rolled his eyes at his brother’s condescending tone, picking up his cup of coffee to take a sip. ‘Sam’s getting a little too cocky for my tastes…’

‘I find myself in one of those rare occasions where I agree with you. Although, he is correct I’ve never played a practical joke before. That being said, I now have a good idea of who my first victim will be…’

Dean snorted into the cup of coffee he held to his lips, wincing at the hot splash of coffee to his face whilst simultaneously choking on his own laughter. ‘Only if you promise I can help you. And nothing life-threatening or harmful. Well, nothing too harmful, anyway.’

‘I’m not sure if this is typical of most human’s first dates, but I’m more than happy to agree.’

‘Since when do we do anything the ‘typical way’, Cas?’

‘Good point.’

Sam shook his head with the beginnings of a pleased smile, accepting the box of tissues Eileen had gotten up to get and sliding them over to Dean. “Not sure if I wanna know what you guys are talking about…”

“Glad to see you guys are talking,” Eileen noted as she dropped back down into her chair. “Last we heard you talking to Cas, you uh… you didn’t seem on good terms.”

“All jokes aside, you guys did talk, right?”

Dean quickly mopped up the spilled coffee with a handful of tissues, tossing them into the bin underneath the table with a soft sigh. “Yeah, we talked… Turns out Sergei wasn’t lying. Cas’s grace is running out on its own.”

Eileen and Sam’s face dropped at the news, practically deflating at the table. “So… what does this mean?” Sam asked.

“Mean’s we’re running out of time,” Dean answered somberly, leaning forward to rest against the top of the table, pulling his cup of coffee closer to him.

“How long until…?”

“Few weeks. Month – at most.”

“Shit…” Sam mumbled, running a hand through his hair, glancing down at the papers in front of him. “That’s… not great.”

“No. It sure as hell ain't.” Dean said, finger tapping anxiously at the side of his cup. “I’m fresh out of ideas, and Cas…”

“What? What about Cas?” Eileen questioned.

“Let’s just say Cas don’t have much hope,” Dean answered. “He… he thinks we’re wasting our time here; doesn’t think there’s any way of doing this.”

“Yeah? Well, tell Cas to stop talking like an idiot, because we’re not giving up on him.” Sam said strongly, twisting one of the papers on the desk around before sliding it across to Dean.

“What’s this?” Dean asked, straightening back up as he plucked up the paper from the table.

“An idea,” Sam replied. “I was just thinking… do you remember back after… after what happened to mom, with… with Jack?”

Dean paled at the reminder, glancing up at Sam over the top of the paper. He nods his head.

“We had asked Rowena if there was something she could do to bring her back, remember?”

“Course I remember,” Dean answered dryly, dropping his gaze back down to the paper full of complicated-looking Latin. “Didn’t work. What came back was just…”

The realization struck Dean just as he was about to say it. “A shell…” That was exactly what they were looking for. A shell. A vessel. “But wait, it-,”

“It couldn’t support any life,” Sam answered grimly. “But then… Rowena had been working on the spell behind the scenes. And she succeeded. What you’re holding is the spell I used to bring Eileen’s body back, then put her soul into her body.”

“But-,” Eileen butted out before Dean’s hopeful expression could grow any bigger. “That’s kind of the problem we have. We had my soul to bring me back, to recreate my body. Cas… doesn’t have that.”

“Right,” Sam said. “If we tried to use this spell with Cas’s grace… Cas’s grace isn’t connected to Jimmy’s body. There’s nothing for it to rebuild on.”

“Okay…” Dean muttered, feeling a little disheartened. “So… what then? We can’t use it?”

“Well, I was thinking,” Sam begun, a little more excited this time. “It almost seems like we need a mix of the two spells. Brings back a body that can sustain life, but not one that requires a soul to be built upon.”

“And… how do we do that?” Dean asked.

“I have no idea. But I think I know who can.” Sam said, already standing up from the table. “We need to talk to the person who made the spells. Think we’re gonna have to summon the new Queen of Hell.”

* * *

 Something about summoning always made Dean feel uneasy. Call it past trauma from previous crossroad deals, call it dealing with demons full stop, call it whatever. It didn’t matter if they personally knew the demon in question (which was something he never thought he’d say in his life), there was still something so… wrong about it. Which is good, he supposes. Perhaps something built into the soul that’s repulsed by the twisted one it’s summoning; a glimpse of what will happen to itself if accepting the deal proposed.

Dean eyed Sam as he finished setting up the candles atop the sigils they had hastily drawn onto the library table, the uneasiness he had already been feeling only heightening when Sam picked up his demon blade, holding his hand over the bowl of summoning ingredients, once more ready to bleed for Dean.

“Are you sure this is even going to work?” Dean asked before Sam could make the cut. “This is supposed to summon the king of hell, isn’t it?”

“Doubt summoning spells care much about gender equality, Dean.” Eileen retorted.

Dean sighed, scratching at his furrowed brow. “You know what I mean… Maybe the spell was specifically for Crowley. What if Rowena has a different spell? And what’s to say she’ll even bother showing up anyway?”

“We’re about to find out,” Sam shrugged his shoulders. “If not… we can always take another trip down to Hell.”

“You say that like it’s normal…” Eileen added under her breath.

Sam slides the blade across his palm, barely wincing at the familiar sting it brings. Another scar to add, a long tally both brothers shared. The burn worsens as he squeezes his hand into a fist, forcing out a trickle of blood that darkens the dry herbs within the bowl.

Sam picks up a box of matchsticks next to the bowl, sliding one out of the pack and quickly striking it against the side. A flame bursts into life atop the match, all three pairs of eyes in the room fixated on the little golden flickering tip.

“Et ad congregandum... eos coram… me…” The Latin drops off Sam’s tongue like it was his first language. The match drops along with his last word, the dry ingredients within the bowl setting aflame at the slightest contact with the match, shooting out a tall flame that had Sam stepping back from the bowl at the wave of heat that came with it.

The bunker was unnaturally quiet. Not the creak of the old pipes, or the whirring of old equipment, or the buzzing of electricity running through an ancient wiring system. All three of them were holding their breaths, scanning meticulously around the room for a flash of auburn hair and an unnaturally bright dress that only Rowena could pull off.

“Did… did you do it wrong?” Dean asks, wheeling over to the table and peering inside the burnt contents of the bowl.

“I don’t think so,” Sam replied, not sounding too sure of himself. “I followed the instructions…”

Eileen grabbed Sam’s hand as he peered down at the book on the table, busying herself with cleaning the wound as the two looked over the instructions. “Maybe we didn’t use enough of something?” She offered off-handedly as she began winding a roll of gauze around Sam’s hand, keeping it tight enough to restrict the blood flow, taping it down to his hand and making sure it was secure.

“Maybe…” Dean says, rubbing a hand across his mouth as he thinks. “Or maybe she just didn’t want to show up-,”

“Or maybe I was pondering over what mess you’re bringing me into this time.”

All three wheeled around (quite literally, in Dean’s case) at the unforgettable Scottish accent, greeted by the sight of a – thankfully – smiling Rowena as she stretched out on one of the chairs, a tumbler of whisky already in hand.

You know what they say… Like mother, like son….

“Hello, boys,” She greeted them brightly, eyes sliding over to Eileen who was – understandably – looking rather unsure. “And girls! Who’s this one?”

“A friend,” Eileen answered warily. “And I hope I can say the same of you… considering it’s your spell that brought me back.”

“Oh,” Rowena said brightly, glancing up to Sam. “You found it then? The spell?”

“More like Chuck led me to it…” Sam’s mouth twisted into an uncomfortable grimace. “But… yes.”

“Well-,” Rowena clapped her hands, making them startle somewhat at the harsh sound. “I’m always one for a wee bit of gossip and catch up, but I’m guessing you didn’t invite me here for a chat?”

Rowena’s gaze had dropped down to Dean as she said that, a surprisingly sympathetic look crossing the witches – demons…? Witch-demons-queen of hell’s face. “Firstly, I suppose I should offer my thanks for saving the world again. At least, I assume you have, since we’re all still here.”

“That’s… mostly thanks to you,” Sam said with a genuine smile of appreciation.

“Flattery will get you nowhere, Samuel,” Rowena brushed him off. “And secondly… if you’re here to bargain with me for your legs Dean…”

“That’s not it,” Dean quickly corrected her. “It’s… it’s kind of complicated-,”

“Then I guess it’s something to do with the angel sitting pretty in your head?”

Dean’s mouth swung shut, taken aback by Rowena’s spot-on assessment of the situation.

“Oh yes – I can feel the disgustingly pure energy coming from you, Dean. I’d recognize grace anywhere… Question is: which one is it?”

Before Dean could ever answer, a look of dawning realization had passed over Rowena’s face. She peeled one of her manicured hands off her glass, pointing to all three of them as she counted. “One, two, three… We’re missing one, aren’t we?”

“Two,” Sam says. “We got Jack back, but uh… he’s kind of… God now? We haven’t seen him since we dealt with Chuck…”

Rowena stared blankly at Sam for a few moments. Her eyes flickered between the three of them, waiting for one to reveal the joke. At their serious faces, she raised her glass to her lips and drained the drink in one go, handling the fiery burn of the whisky like it was nothing. “Another God… this one a three-year-old child… what could go wrong?”

“World’s not ended yet,” Dean tried to stay optimistic.

“And what of Mr. Blue Eyes?” Rowena asked. “If I’m putting two and two together… he’s currently the one hitching a ride in your noggin?”

“For the time being. Which is kind of where we could use your help.”

Rowena sighs deeply, looking down drearily to the empty tumbler in her hands. “Come on then; tell me the story.”

“I… we lost Cas. He, uh… he kind of sacrificed himself.”

Rowena raised an eyebrow at him, her long red nails playing a plinking tune across the glass of her drink. “For what?”

Dean swallowed harshly. “For me.”

Rowena narrowed her eyes at him, glancing over to Sam and Eileen for a split second before her eyes settled back on Dean. She kept her focus there, leaning forward in her chair as she asked: “Did you fix it?”

“Huh?” Sam blurted out, unsure of the meaning of Rowena’s question. Because, after all, it wasn’t intended for him. Then again, even Dean seemed unsure of the meaning…

“Dean?” Rowena says his name in the scolding kind of tone you’d expect from a mother. “Did you fix it?”

“Oh…” Dean exclaims as the memory floods back; the two of them sat what felt like miles apart in Rowen’s throne room, unable to even look at one another as they received what – if Dean’s being honest with himself – was a much-needed counseling session from the Queen of Hell, of all people… “Yeah. Yeah, I’d say we fixed it.”

Rowena nodded appreciatively at that, seemingly satisfied with his answer. “Did you finally figure out what fifth base was with him…?”

“Alright, let’s not go there,” Dean grumbled, annoyed to find he was blushing again. “Point is, I should be dead twice by this point if it weren’t for Cas. And that’s only over the span of these past two months.”

“So other than God… what else was trying to kill you?”

“Death herself,” Dean answered. “Cas stepped in… Summoned the Empty on a deal he didn’t tell us about.”

‘I’m sensing you’re still angry about that.’

“I see… And so Castiel here was taken to the Empty?” Rowena asked.

“Yep.”

“…And the second time?”

“It was… there was a bunch of vamps and…” Dean tried to describe his death in a way that didn’t sound as lame as it did in his head. “I kind of got shoved into a nail…”

Dean knew that look on Rowena’s face. That was the look of someone trying really, really hard not to laugh. “I’m sorry?”

“It was this big friggen’ rusty rebar or something, okay!” Dean threw up his hands as he answered. “One of the vamps got the upper hand on me and shoved me onto the damn thing; pipe went straight through my back and pinned me there.”

“Wow… I suppose that explains the new wheels…”

“Rather have these than the death that was coming,” Dean says. “Cas saved me. Again. When I prayed to him, he… he heard me.”

“You woke him up?” Rowena asks, sounding truly amazed by this revelation. “From the Empty?”

“I did,” Dean answers, a hint of a proud smile on his face. “And Cas dragged himself out of that place to get to me.”

“You could ring a bell and that angel of yours will crawl out of any dark crevice to get to you, Dean Winchester. He’s stubbornly loyal, and a damn fool for it.”

“What can I say? He’s a Winchester; willing to defy death itself to save the ones he loves.”

“One…”

“What was that?”

“Hm? Oh, nothing, nothing…” Rowena said dismissively in much too of a high-pitched, cheery voice for Dean to think it’s ‘nothing’. “So, your angel pulls off the impossible once more by escaping the Empty to get to you… and, since he’s in your head, I’m assuming you agreed to possession?”

“Yeah, I did. Like I said, I was dying, and Cas… Cas didn’t have his vessel.”

“The Empty kind of… destroyed it…” Sam added awkwardly to a puzzled looking Rowena. “Cas thinks it’s because he didn’t die like most angels. The Empty literally swallowed him whole; pulled him into the Empty as part of itself.”

“And now Cas’s grace is burning out,” Eileen added on too, feeling a tad bit guilty by how overwhelmed Rowena was looking at the influx of information. “It has been for a while, actually…”

“And that’s why we need your help,” Dean took over. “We can’t just throw Cas into a new body; he’s not strong enough to survive the transfer, and… he kind of has a connection to the old one. Can’t keep him with me either, coz once his grace runs out… well, it’s bad news all round.”

“I’m still not entirely sure what it is you’re asking of me…” Rowena sounded moments away from asking them where their nearest liquor cabinet was.

“We want to know if there’s a way to rebuild Cas’s old body.” Dean wheels himself closer to Rowena, well aware of the pleading tone his voice has taken up. “We’re running out of time, Rowena. Time, and options.”

“We thought maybe something could be done with the resurrection spell,” Sam nervously added on, scrambling for the papers of the spell sat atop the table and waving them in the air. “We were looking over them earlier, and it just… it seems likes a starting point maybe?”

Sam hurried over to Rowena with papers in hand, handing them back over to the witch look a schoolboy apprehensively handing in his work. Rowena accepted the papers being shoved into her free hand, tearing her eyes away from Dean’s desperate face to Sam’s frantic movements.

“Sort of like a mix between the two, actually,” Sam added on hurriedly. “You know, what with the first one not being able to support life without a soul, and the second one needing a soul, so if we-,”

“Sam…” Rowena said his name softly, stopping him from rambling on more. Dean hated that tone. He hated the unusual level of kindness coming from Rowena. Because he knows that’s the kind of tone you use in the hopes of softening the blow of what you’re about to say next.

“You can’t do this, can you?” Rowena’s eyes flicker over to Dean at his crushed words. Considering Rowena had attempted to kill both him and Cas in the past, on top of becoming Queen of Hell… the shine of sympathy in her eyes was surprisingly genuine.

“No, I can’t.”

“But-,” Sam tried, but was promptly stopped by Rowena’s raised hand.

“Angels are different. With Eileen here… her spirit was attached to her physical form. You had something to work with there, you see? The resurrection spell, it’s… it’s more like turning the spirit into flesh. With Castiel…”

“We’ve only got his grace,” Dean says, sinking down into his chair as the realization they’ve met another dead end begins to sink in.

“Which isn’t connected to his vessel,” Rowena continues off Dean’s words. “If we tried messing around with his grace… who knows what could happen? It has nothing to rebuild upon. We could easily end up simply stripping Castiel of the remainder of his grace, and with how volatile an angel's grace can be… we may accidentally turn it into a weapon.”

Rowena stands from her chair, meekly offering the papers of the resurrection spell back to Sam. Sam looks to the papers, shoulders drooped and head hung low as he takes them back.

“I really am sorry, boys,” Rowena tells them, patting Sam’s arm as she glances down to Dean. “If I hear something different… if you find anything in the Book of the Damned, then… you know how to call me. But the truth of the matter is I simply don’t have much experience with angels. And even if I did… I don’t even know how that could help with this matter.”

Dean’s thankful smile comes out more strained than he intended, the effort of forcing his face into one dampened by his crushed spirit. “Well… thanks for showing up, anyway. At least now we know, y’know… you can’t help; so that’s crossed off the list…”

“When you said you didn’t have much time… how much did you-,”

“Not enough,” Dean says with a slight shake of his head.

Rowena dropped her hand down so her fingers were just lightly brushing against the top of Dean’s shoulder. The touch was oddly mother-like, and it had Dean scrunching his eyes shut as he tries to push down the despair that was threatening to rear its ugly head.

“I’m sorry,” Rowena says quietly, as if only to him. It seemed like the final nail in the coffin. Like.. this was it; Cas was right… They couldn’t bring his body back. His grace was going to burn out. He’ll have to force Cas out. He’ll have to say goodbye, again, but now it’s different – now he knows he loves him, now Cas know he loves him, and…

He can’t do this.

“Good luck, boys,” Rowena drawls out, the comforting touch on Dean’s shoulder slipping away. Her eyes drift over to meet Eileen’s, the smallest of a smile twitching at her lips. “And girls… I think you’re going to need it.”

And then, she was gone.

And the last of their hope seemed to go with her.

“That’s that, I guess,” Dean says, staring vacantly at the spot where Rowena was moments ago.

The pitter-patter of paws signals Miracle’s arrival, emerging from her hiding spot now the stranger had left. She makes a bee-line for Dean, slinking over to his wheelchair and resting her head in his lap. It’s able to pull the smallest of smiles from Dean, rubbing underneath her ears and brushing his hands through her thick fur. “Cas was right… you are able to sense a lot of stuff, huh?”

“Dean…” Sam steps away from Eileen’s side. “I’m sorry…”

Dean’s face twists into an amused frown, glancing up to his brother’s guilt-ridden face. “What’s there to be sorry for?”

“Getting your hopes up, I suppose. You… you seemed really invested in this idea too, you know? And I… I don’t know, I guess I’m just sorry it didn’t work out.”

“Yeah, well… couldn’t be that easy, could it? Would have been too good to be true…”

“There’s something I didn’t tell you.”

Dean freezes at Sam’s confession, getting an unhappy whine from Miracle that the scritches had stopped.

“Something I remembered, right before we summoned Rowena. Even if she could help with the spell… I don’t think it would have worked either way.”

“What are you talking about?” Eileen asks, tugging at Sam’s arm to get his attention. “The spell worked with me, didn’t it?”

“Yeah, but that’s… kind of the point,” Sam replied with somewhat of a wince. “Those witches? Back when I was working on the spell? That woman warned me, said that Billie would catch onto what we had done and close the loophole. And yeah, I know Billie’s dead now, but… the new Death - whoever they are - isn’t exactly going to let it slide, either. She made it sound like a one-time thing. And… we used it.”

“Hey, no, it’s a good thing you brought the idea up,” Dean insisted. “If it turned out it could have worked, and we didn’t even bother to try it because you didn’t want to bring it up? That would have been so much worse.”

“Yeah, I guess…” Sam mutters, throwing the papers down onto the table. He brushes his hand across his mouth, letting his eyes slide closed with a deep sigh. “There’s gotta be something else. Something hidden in all these files, otherwise I… I don’t know what to do…”

“We’ll find something,” Eileen said, sensing the need for some sense of optimism. Of hope. “We’ve got to look for an answer to find one, right?”

Dean smiled appreciatively up at Eileen. It didn’t feel real. He’s fairly certain Eileen knew it wasn’t real, either.

“Yeah…” He mumbles. He had never craved a drink more in his life. “Sure… let’s find a way…”

He wasn’t sure if Cas’s silence in his head was one of joint hopelessness; or if, perhaps, he didn’t truly believe there was no answer until he heard Dean himself begin to give up.

* * *

 Castiel found himself stepping into Dean’s bar once more.

This time… there was something different about it. There was no soft music playing from the jukebox – which was switched off, it’s colorful flashing lights left blank and empty. The soft amber glow of the overhead lights were also switched off - bar from one - leaving the bar in a cold and unwelcoming atmosphere. Only one light was lit, aimed at a sullen-looking Dean Winchester sat upon a bar stool in the corner of the room. There was no beaming smile like there was last time, replaced with an empty expression as he leaned back against the corner wall with… a guitar?

In Dean’s hands was a beautiful spruce acoustic, his fingers expertly switching between the six strings. He plucked them quietly, invoking a gentle and solemn sounding sound from the wooden instrument atop his lap. Though, his gaze was not fixated on his fingers as they danced across the fretboard as was expected. His eyes were pointed down towards the laminated wooden panels of the floor, staring without seeing as he played a song that Castiel faintly recognized, though the name wasn’t coming to him.  

“I didn’t know you could play?” Castiel finds it almost criminal to interrupt the beautiful melody Dean was creating.

“I don’t. Not really,” Dean replies, not even a hesitation in his playing. “At least, I haven’t actually played in a long time. Comes easy in my dreams, though.”

Castiel pulls out one of the stools from the bar, dropping it a few steps away from Dean. He takes a seat on the comfortable cushion, content to watch Dean as he plays. “When did you learn?”

“You, uh… you remember when I told you about Sonny’s? That time when Dad was out on a hunt, and I got caught stealing food?”

“You mean when your father abandoned you at a young age, leaving you to fend for both yourself and your brother to the point you were forced to steal to feed yourselves?”

Dean’s fingers did stumble this time, slamming his hands against the strings to mute the obnoxiously loud and screeching note. Usually, he would be up in arms at this point; would tell whoever that it was all his fault, he should have been better prepared for looking after Sammy, that he should have known what to do if Dad was out on a hunt longer than usual… but looking at Castiel’s furious face, knowing such anger wasn’t aimed at him, rather on his behalf… He decided he was tired of making excuses for John.

“Yeah… yeah, when that happened,” Dean gritted out, letting himself feel the anger he should have felt all those years ago. “Kept telling myself that it was only temporary, y’know? That dad would get back, get Sammy and come get me. But then… God, Cas – I was shit scared of what he’d do when he found out. If he knew that I had messed up, got myself caught and left Sammy all alone…”

“Your father shouldn’t have-,” Cas cut himself off with a frustrated grunt, a few octaves away from being a growl.  “You were a child. The things he did to you… the responsibilities he forced you to bare… I’m sorry, Dean. I know you have a lot of respect for your father, but that is not a respect I can share.

“Guess we both got too much respect for our dads, huh?” Dean tried to joke, but it fell flat. “You gotta admit that God was more of a disappointment than my dad though, right?”

“The fact that your father is slightly better than an absentee and destructive God isn’t an achievement, Dean.”

Dean stared at Castiel for a few seconds before nodding. “Alright, you got me there.”

Dean resumed his playing, the gentle tune of the guitar helping to soothe the tension brought on by the mention of John. “There was this girl there… her name was Robin. She came round every now and then to give guitar lessons. I, uh… I was kind of infatuated with her…”

Castiel smiled fondly at that, cocking his head to the side as he waited for Dean to elaborate.

“Shut up…” Dean grumbled, hiding his own smile at the knowing one planted across Cas’s face. “Didn’t care for it much originally, coz it was just a way to hang out with her, you know? But after a while… I dunno, something just clicked. I started to enjoy it.”

“Why didn’t you keep playing?” Castiel asked.

Dean laughed humorlessly, resting his chin on the top of the guitar. “How would I, Cas? You think Dad would have splurged out on a guitar for me? Bring it with us everywhere we go? He’d probably have just scolded me for wasting my time on a ‘useless skill’ when I could be learning something important.”

Castiel had many more words on the subject of John Winchester and his treatment of his kids, but wisely kept them quiet for now. “What about once you settled down in the bunker? You could have then?”

“Eh, I guess so. We’ve always been busy with everything, so… Guess I never really bothered. Plus I’m pretty damn sure my dream guitar playing skills won’t translate well to real-life…”

“Might be a good hobby to pick back up,” Castiel tells him, reaching out to run a hand down the smooth wooden surface of the guitar with the backs of his fingers. “It would be nice to hear you play for me when…”

Dean’s eyes shoot up to Cas as his voice trailed off, the small content smile playing on his face slipping away. He didn’t need to finish the rest of the sentence. It was the issue they had been skirting around ever since they had stepped into his dream.

For when we get me back.

Dean sighed, lifting his head from the guitar and sliding it off his lap, leaning it carefully against the side of the bar next to him. Castiel’s eyes followed him as he stood from the barstool, brushing off non-existent dust from his jeans in what was more of a gesture of habit than anything. Dean’s arms found themselves tugging at Castiel’s arm to get him to stand, answering Castiel’s inquisitive frown with an easy smile.

Castiel followed Dean’s tugs, letting a smile creep onto his face as Dean’s hand slips down to his own, fingers intertwining with his in a perfect fit. “What are you-,” Is all Castiel could ask before Dean had grabbed hold of his other hand and placed it on his hip, separating their joined hands to place his on Castiel’s shoulders. Castiel followed suit, placing his free hand on top of Dean’s shoulder, his other firmly holding Dean’s waist. Dean took his hands off Cas briefly to snap his fingers, smile widening as an absolute classic (at least, in Dean’s opinion) drifted out from the speakers of the jukebox, the old machine blinking to life with Dean’s influence.

It was downright crazy to Dean how much had changed in such a short amount of time. Not too long ago, he was right here with Cas, doing this exact same thing. It was just as heart-skippingly nerve-wracking as it was the last time, but now… now they were a hair-width away from being chest to chest, swaying together on the spot to the calming music as opposed to the more spacious, somewhat awkward half-step dance as before.

And this time… Dean took in the loving smile that was being directed at him, and he could say that now. That look Castiel had reserved just for him was one of love, and the fact that it’s for him? It’s mindboggling, it’s more than he could ever deserve – and the best part? He can love him back. He can lean down, remove that few inches of space between them, and press his lips to Cas. He can do that now, and if that can’t get a smile out of him, then what will?

“Wherever you go…” Dean’s voice is raspy, and yet gentle as he sings to Castiel, sung in a hushed tone in the peaceful space between then. “Whatever you do. I will be right here waiting for you…”

Dean would be blind to say the soft smile on Cas’s face didn’t have a twinge of sadness to it at his words, his grip on Dean’s hip and shoulder tightening as he sang. He had been planning to be… well, to be Dean Winchester. The Dean Winchester that would be all jokey with Castiel in a moment like this, singing a mopey love song in a ‘stereotypical trashed forty-year-old guy at karaoke’ voice to try and get a laugh out of him. Now, as they held each other in the dim lights of the bar… that version of himself had been sedated.

“I really thought we’d found the answer,” Dean says, one of his hands slipping up Cas’s neck, his thumb gently brushing over his pulse point. “That Rowena would be able to do something. But now it all feels like… like it was the last chance… Now I’ve got no more ideas, and I don’t know what to do, Cas. I don’t know how to save you, I-,”

Dean closes his eyes at the burning he felt building, causing a tear to slip out from under his closed eyelid. He shakes his head at the choking sensation in his throat, pulling Cas forward by his neck until their foreheads met. There they both stood, eyes closed as they swayed to their own music, comforted by the warmth of each other held so close.

“I know…” Castiel’s words were meant to be one of assurance, but they were more like sympathy. Building upon the fact that he had long since accepted his fate. Which is perhaps why a few more tears escape Dean’s closed lids, trailing down his cheek, clung to his skin as a painful reminder of why they were there.

“I don’t want to lose you…” Dean’s whisper is broken and harsh, the voice of a man fighting hard to keep the tears out of his voice.

The sound is enough for the dam in Castiel to break, the last of the angel's defenses crumbling down at the raw pain he could hear from the one he loves. “And I don’t want to leave you,” Castiel whispers against his lips, tasting the salt of Dean’s tears as he places a delicate kiss there. “But there’s not much else we can do now than what we’re already doing, and… to hope.”

And so, in the silence of Dean’s bar, Dean holds Castiel tight. He lets his angel hold him just as close, sharing their mutual grief over what could have been, of the time they could have spent together.

They dance.

And they hope. They hope that this dance won't be their last.

Next Chapter - - ->

[womansharry]

SHE

Chapter 4 - Lit The Fire

catch up here! 1, 2, and 3 :)

Juliet pushed opened the heavy door to the Palmer and Associates office building. It looked similar to almost every other office building she had ever been inside. This particular office was home to Miller and Brayden, the company that would hopefully be backing her brand financially.

She breathed a contented sigh as she took the elevator to the 76th floor. She had felt different since her trip to Rome. Maybe it was a new found confidence. Maybe that, coupled with the fact that Harry had been texting her since she got back to New York. She felt like a teenager that was love struck. Every time his name popped up on her phone she got butterflies. And her heart overflowed when she would talk on the phone with him. His voice was always warm and filled with kindness.

He was now back in London. The time difference between New York and London was a bit more bearable than the one between New York and Italy. But, she wished that he was closer. She just wanted to see him in person again.

"Hi, can I help you?" A perky girl that wasn't much younger than Juliet sat behind a large Mac computer typing away at the reception desk of Miller and Brayden.

"Yeah, I'm Juliet Oliver. I have a meeting with Josh and Collin." The young girl typed quickly on the keyboard before responding.

"Oh yes. I see that right here. Why don't you have a seat. I'll let them know that you're here."

Juliet sat down in one of the plush chairs beside the reception area. She took her phone out of her bag. It was 9:30 in New York, meaning that it was 2:30 in London. She had a text from Harry. She quickly opened it.

I'm going into the studio for a bit. I won't have my phone much. Can I call you later? Miss your voice x

She couldn't help but smile as she typed out a response.

Sounds like fun. Of course, I'm getting ready to go into one of my meetings for the week. Hopefully, this is gonna get the ball rolling with the clothing line.

"Miss Oliver, they're ready for you in the conference room. I'll take you there."

Juliet stood from her spot and followed the girl down a dimily lit hallway. She opened a door and Juliet stepped into the conference room. She was meeting with these particular investors for the second time. She had already pitched her ideas to them. This was the follow up where they gave her their answer.

Josh and Collin stood up and shook her hand.

"Thanks so much for coming back in Juliet." Juliet nodded, as if she had a choice in the matter. She sat back in the chair across from the two men.

"Juliet, we're sorry to tell you this, but it's just not feasible for us to back your line." Juliet stared blankly at the two men. What the hell?

"Okay, can I ask why?" She heard herself say, she didn't exactly know how it came out.

"We just don't feel like it pushes boundaries. And on the other hand, we don't feel like it's going to be a smart direction for us." Josh tried to reason with her.

"You think it'll go under as soon as it starts don't you?" She didn't mean to snap, but at this point she didn't care.

"It isn't that. We're both really sorry that it isn't going to work out." Collin said as he stood.

I'm sure you're sorry. She thought to herself. "Thank you guys for your time." She walked out the door and didn't stop until she was on the street in front of the building. Her mind was running a hundred miles a minute. She had put so much work in this brand, she had sat in all the meetings thus far, she had built an entire brand herself. She'd be damned if she'd let these two men get in her way. She needed to call Sierra, her best friend and assistant on this project. But Sierra took a backseat to Harry. She knew he may not answer her call, but it was worth a try.

The line rang a few times before she heard him. "Jules? Y'okay?" She moved from the middle of the crowded sidewalk. She leaned against the gray concrete of the building, relief flooding her body as soon as the words were out of his mouth. She hadn't expected him to answer the phone.

"Hey. Um, not really, no. I just left the meeting with the potential investors. They said no." It had stung to say it out loud. Of course she knew that rejection was eminent and it came with the territory. She just hadn't expected it after the initial meeting with Josh and Collin.

"Oh, did they say why?" She heard a door shut on the other end.

"They said it didn't push boundaries and it wasn't a smart invest. Is it because I'm a woman, Harry?" The last part came out more like a whisper.

"No no no. These two blokes jus' sound like dickheads."

"It's because I'm a woman. And men like that can't stand to see women in power. They don't want to even entertain the thought of a women calling the shots." She continued, disregarding Harry's comment.

"Jules, ya been showing me ya mockups, ya brand kit, and 's bloody brilliant. These idiots obviously don't know what their talking about." He tried to reassure her.

"It's just so frustrating, Harry. I've been working on this stuff for so long. And I swear the initial meeting went so well. But now, I'm back to the drawing board. If I don't get money, I don't get to move on to the next step."

There was a beat of silence. "Anyway, I'm sorry I called you. I know you're at the studio and I shouldn't be bothering you. You've probably got a deadline."

"Wanted to talk to ya. 'S not a big deal, okay. Listen, what if I invested in your brand?" Juliet laughed at his question. Harry stayed quiet on the other end.

"Oh, you're serious? Harry, I couldn't ask that of you."

"What if 's something I wanna do. I would be a private investor, no one would know. Ya can still call the shots." Juliet took a deep breath. She was overwhelmed with his thoughtfulness. But, she couldn't seriously ask him to do something this drastic.

"Harry, I don't know."

"Jules, I know what it's like to create things and wanna share them with other people. Has my path been a bit unconventional? 'f course, but I know what 's like to pursue something ya love. And I wanna help ya do the same. Will ya at least think about it? Please?"

"I appreciate it Harry. Of course I'll think about it." She could practically hear his grin through the phone.

"'f course. Wanna facetime later?"

"Yeah. I'll talk to you later, okay? Thank you."

"Ya welcome, love."

___

"There's Simon & West. Their head investor is Jackie West. It says here that Simon & West pride themselves on creating a diverse workplace. They created a firm where people are encouraged to be different and they celebrate that."

"How did I not find them before? I'm gonna call them." Sierra turned her computer screen towards Juliet and she quickly dialed the number.

"Simon and West, how may I direct your call?"

"Hi, this is Juliet Oliver. I would love to talk with someone about meeting with someone at your office."

"Thank you for your interest. Unforunatly, the earliest we can get you on the list, is November. Would you like to go ahead and put your name down?"

"Oh, um no thank you. Thanks for your time." She hung up and threw her phone on her couch. "They cant meet with me until November and it's June, what the hell?"

"Why don't you just take Harry up on his offer?" Juliet sat down at the kitchen island and looked over at her best friend.

"Because, I don't want to use him for his money. Besides, this is my project. I wanna be the one to do it." Sierra gave Juliet a kind smile.

"You can be so hard headed sometimes. It's okay to ask for help sometimes."

"I know, I know. I just want to try. His offer is still on the table." Juliet heard her phone go off in her living room and Sierra shut her laptop.

"I'm gonna go, I have a big day tomorrow. Lots and lots of photoshoots." Sierra collected her things and headed out the door. The two girls had been friends since they were in high school. Along with their other friend Kennedy. Sierra had been working for a  boutique in SoHo since she graduated from NYU. Now she was running their social media.

Juliet picked her phone up and saw a new text from Harry.

Facetime me?

She switched to the facetime app and clicked on his contact. It rang for a second before the call connected.

"'ey," he gave her a smile. He wasn't wearing a shirt and his hair was damp, like he had just taken a shower.

"Hey yourself. How was the studio?" She sat down on her couch.

"Good, we got some things done today. Did ya find another investor to meet with?"

"Well, not quite. I called another agency, one that would probably be great to work with. But, I couldn't meet with them until November? How crazy is that? God, it's the beginning of June. That's 5 whole months away."

"'m sorry that ya having a tough time finding someone. My offers still on the table." She smiled at him.

"I know, and I appreciate that."

____

It was a freak thing, really. How Juliet was able to meet with the investors at Lawson Financiers. She had talked with several people and Blake Lawson happened to be one of them. He had told her that he would love to meet with her, but couldn't meet until next week. However, he had called her the next day and asked if she could come in because he had a cancellation.

She walked into the office in Midtown with a newfound confidence. "Hi, I'm Juliet Oliver. I'm here to meet with Blake."

A blonde women stood from the reception desk. "Yes, right this way." Juliet pulled her phone out and texted harry quickly.

Going into my meeting, with me luck.

"Juliet, nice to see you." Blake shook her hand and motioned to one of the chairs in front of his desk. "So, I already looked through some of the things that you sent me. And I have to say, I'm impressed. I like what you've got. Tell me more."

"Well, first of all, thank you. So, I've been imagining this line in my head for years. And I finally sat down and brought it to life. I want to bring sustainable classic pieces to anyone who wants to dress chic. I know personally, I'm at an advantage when it comes to shopping. I have money and can buy what I want. I just want to bring quality clothing to others." He gave her a smile.

"I think it's a great concept. And I'm all in. I know typically it takes time for these decisions to be made. But I would like to invest in JO Collective."

Wow. She thought to her self.

"Don't worry, you don't have to make a decision right now. I would appreciate if you could let me know by Friday through. Will that work?"

"Yeah, of course. Thank you so much Blake. I'll let you know something ASAP." She shook his hand and left the office building. She pulled her phone out, Harry hadn't responded.

Juliet stopped for an iced latte on her way home. She had so many things running through her head. She was so glad that she had been able to meet with Blake. As she pushed her front door open she head the tv on. She swore she had turned it off when she left.

As she walked down the stairs she held her breath. When she reached the living room she saw him. Harry was sitting on her couch.

"What are you doing here?" She asked. Her heart was racing. He gave her one of his signature grins.

"Well, 've been missing ya. And I knew ya been going through so much. So, I decided to come see ya. Hope 's okay." He looked down at the floor and blushed a little.

"Oh, c'mon. Don't get all shy on me. Of course, it's okay." She wrapped him in a hug. "I'm glad that you're here, I have good news. I have an investor that's interested in the line." Harry's face fell a little. It was just enough for Juliet to notice it.

"'S not me." He let out a breathe.

"No, it isn't."

"Just wanted to help ya is all."

"I know. You really wanted to invest in it, didn't you?" She moved her hand to his face and let her thumb stroke his cheek.

"Wouldn't have offered if I didn't," She knew he wasnt trying to be an ass. He was just being sincere.

"What if I counter the invester I have on board. What if it's a partnership between their firm and a private investor."

"Dont feel like ya have to please me."

"No, that actually would be nice for my sake. It'd be you and me against the investors at this firm." He looked at her, and it made her heart skip a beat.

"'M in." He said and pulled her in for a kiss. It was slow and passionate. It lit a fire inside Juliet. When they broke apart Harry leaned his forehead against Juliet's. "Think we make a good team." _____________________________________________________________________

[amphtaminedreams]

If We Can’t Have the Parties, At Least We Have the Coats: Lookbook no.13

Hi to anyone reading,

It’s been a weird winter, right?

A winter that I REALLY did not need to buy as many clothes for as I have. You WILL save loads of money during this lockdown, I told myself. You WILL. And yet here I am in December, in exactly the same financial position I was in March. You would think that making the switch to an environmentally friendly wardrobe would mean I own less but now I no longer have the guilt of supporting fast fashion to hold me back, I’ve accumulated more clothes than ever. Part of a sustainable wardrobe is also about reducing your consumption so now I’ve mostly made the move towards only supporting transparent companies/small businesses, I can move onto the buying less part. I haven’t thrown any clothes away but still, I am not the clothes rescuer I think I am-more just an overdraft abuser. To add to that, for those of us actually following the rules (half the people I went to secondary school with flaunting their apparently unaffected social lives on Instagram, I’m looking at you) there aren’t actually all that many opportunities to wear new outfits. Not to go too first world problems, but it is a little shit when getting dressed up and doing your makeup is one of the things that you do to help you feel a little better, especially when the seasonal (and situational in these times) depression kicks in.

So yes, I have been extra af recently and combatted this with the decision to start making an effort to outfit plan for the most basic of tasks. We’re talking a full face of makeup and accessories for going into town to get a coffee or to meet a friend for a walk. I mean, I still go to Tesco in my trackies but if I’m seeing somebody else, I am sure as hell going to treat it as a reason to wear something nice. See the winter outfits section of the lookbook as your inspiration to do the same because I can guarantee you the sense of normality forcing yourself to take makeup off at the end of the day brings will actually make you feel a lot better. Genuinely the mark of exceptional times. We’ve also got the few days relief period over Christmas in the UK where we’re allowed to mix with a maximum of 3 other households, and ignoring the fact that it doesn’t really make any sense given that the number of people you could end up mixing with depends on the size of the households and is realistically completely arbitrary (I have a lot of feelings about how fucking moronic half the decisions this government has been making are but then again, what’s new?), I’m sure those of you with big families are gonna be partying. I’m only spending Christmas with my immediate family but I thought I’d put some more festive outfits together anyway. I know, I know, it sounds like I’m just bullshitting an explanation as to why I put this lookbook together when in reality I’m trying to make myself feel better about the damage to my bank account buuuut it really is more a case of being inspired by my Depop finds and if you are trying to quit fast fashion, I can’t recommend the app enough (especially if you know what you’re looking for). As I did in the last lookbook, I will make sure to include the tags of all the people I bought these pieces from but I also thought it might be helpful to make a note of some of the descriptors I used to find them so you can get more of an idea how to find the things you’re looking for too, as well as prices. I did include the names of the shops I bought the few fast fashion items I styled from too, mostly earlier this year or at some point over the last couple of years, on the basis that they may be a useful search prompt if you’re looking for something similar or the exact item-the majority are no longer available (disclaimer: I haven’t bought anything from Boohoo in a longgg time) to buy but you might be able to find an account that’s selling a used version. Don’t be put off by that-I’ve had to wash a couple of pieces but for the most part, that hasn’t been necessary. Charity shops usually wash things before they put them out, so you have nothing to worry about there either-I expect that they’re particularly thorough at the moment considering the COVID crisis.

Enough rambling from me for now! Enjoy!

-(SOCIALLY DISTANCED) PARTY SZN LOOKS-

Powder Blue Wide Brim Felt Hat/Fedora: £16.99

Structured White Mesh Oh Polly Mini Dress w/Ruched Detail: £27

Black PVC Beret w/Red Flame Detail: £14

Red Fit and Flare Dress w/Satin Corset & Tulle Skirt: £12

Black PVC Vintage Platform Boots w/Red Flame Detail: £27

White Satin Corset w/Straps: £8

Pinstripe Cropped Blazer Co-ord Set: £12.50

Oh Mighty Strappy Contrast Corset: £27

Contrast Check Cigarette Trousers: £15

Pink Topshop Gingham Blazer Co-ord Set BNWT: £35

White Strappy Corset w/Suspender Detail: £10

White PVC Beret w/Black Flame Detail: £14

Reworked Strappy Patchwork Sports Cropped Tee: £10

Black Combat Cargo Trousers: £5

Strappy Tie-dye Pretty Little Thing Corset BNWT: £15

PVC/Vinyl Zip-up Mini Skirt w/Belt Detail: £9

White Satin Cowl Neck Mini Slip Dress: £8

Urban Outfitters ‘90s Style Celestial Print Mesh Babydoll Dress: £15

-(SOMETIMES PRACTICAL) COAT SZN LOOKS-

UNIF Colour Block Oversized Jumper/Sweater: £25

Topshop Dark Wash Denim Kick Flare Jeans w/Frayed Hem Detail: £16

Vintage ‘70s Style Brown Faux Suede Western Blazer/Jacket: £15

Black Velvet High Neck Bodysuit w/Keyhole Detail: £4

Topshop Paisley Print Chiffon Midi Dress: £15

Brandy Melville Cropped Motorcross Slogan Slogan Tee: £13.60

Ragged Priest Gingham Cargo/Combat Trousers w/Utility Style Buckle Detailing: £33

Black Kappa Logo Beanie: £12

White Platform FILA Disruptors in Good Condition: £55

Black Fur Bucket Hat: £8

Celestial Silver Moon Detail Chain Belt: £18

Black Satin Cowl Neck Detail Midi Slip Dress: £15

Floral Print Platform Boots: £10

Blue Denim ASOS High Rise Mom Jeans: £12

Brown Vintage ‘70s Style Afghan Coat w/Fur Trim: £25

Teal Wide Brim Felt Hat/Fedora: £10

Topshop Floral Print A-Line Jacquard Mini Skirt: £7

Lana Del Rey Screen Printed T-Shirt: £9.99

Vintage Corduroy Contrast Stripe Trousers w/Kick Flare: £28

Anyone that read to the end, thank you so much as always and I hope this shows just how many in-trend pieces you can find second hand! I know I'm SUPER far behind to the point where it’s closer to the F/W2021 shows now than it is since the S/S2021 collections were showcased but I decided I am going to do a full length fashion week review. I also have a few moodboards planned and my next is gonna be one focussing purely on plus sized fashion as the feedback that I got from my New Style Icons post was that I could have included more bigger girls; I am so, so, SO passionate about body positivity and fat acceptance, especially since I know my own relationship with my body would be so much better if this kind of movement was more prominent when I was younger, so I don’t for a minute want anyone to think it was my intention to be exclusionary in any way. It bears repeating that I genuinely appreciate feedback in any form (as long as it’s not too mean and presumptive, lol) and I hope the next post doesn’t disappoint! It hasn’t been a good year for cinema due to COVID having lead to theatre closures, however I still do want to do another film tier ranking in the new year as that is something I really enjoyed doing last time. Any more suggestions are welcome!

As always, my inbox is always open if you need someone to talk to or just wanna chat about a post:-) I am constantly on the look out for new blogs to follow and people to interact with so any communication is welcome. I’m not sure if I’ll get another post finished before we enter 2021, SO I wanna say that I hope everyone has a wonderful Christmas and that this shitshow of a year DOES come to an end at 11:59PM on the 31st because THOSE MEMES ABOUT IT TURNING DECEMBER THE 32ND ARE NOT FUNNY! Here’s to our second attempt at our first year of the roaring twenties (because this past year it feels like we skipped them and went straight to The Great Depression, the likely incoming recession denial is real) and to happier times and good health for everyone.

Lauren x

DISCLAIMER: Background in the first 2 images are mine, others are not. I found them on Pinterest so not sure of the artists but if you do know, drop me a message so I can credit them!

[theseerasures]

Conspicuous Media Consumption, 2020

it’s that time of year again! *saddest toot from the party horn*

for those of you just joining us: it’s a “consume a different content every week for 48 weeks of the year” challenge. for a longer explanation, check out last year’s write-up here, and as always, feel free to pop in and ask questions about any and all of this content.

(same disclaimer as last year too: content for this project ONLY here, and not certain...*looks at my billion Sad Cop Lady posts*...hyperfixations.)

(man remember when i was big into X-Men comics earlier this year? better times than these, if only because no one's discoursing about Emma Frost’s woobie/war criminal ratio anymore--her w/w, if you will)

(...i swear at one point i didn’t exclusively like platinum blondes but alas)

Bitter Root (comic, 1 issue finished 1/1/2020): still very cool on a basic concept level, but runs into the Image Comics problem of just not having enough content to keep my interest beyond that. part of that is on me, for picking it up again BEFORE the second arc rolled out, but the first five issues didn’t really follow (or resolve) any cohesive story either, so...meh.

Immortal Hulk (comic, 3 trades finished 1/17/2020): still not gonna be something i care deeply about (maybe one of Bruce’s Hulksonas dyed his hair???), but i do want to give kudos to Al Ewing for sheer consistency in terms of sustaining this level of quality storytelling month by month for more than two years now. working with the dense archive of the Hulk mythos and managing to make it interesting and thoughtful is impressive even if i personally would not expend the same effort.

Disco Elysium (game, finished 1/18/2020): honestly i should have twigged onto what this year was gonna be like when the third thing i drew from the barrel was pure uncut Eastern European flavored depression. i faintly recall people ragging on it for being pretentiously cynical, but i actually thought its core slid more towards idealism than people give it credit for. also gratified that i haven’t heard anything about Robert Kurvitz using slave labor to finish it, which is a thing we have to say about our video games now!!! fun.

Watchmen (TV, 7 episodes finished 1/27/2020): i am a fool who wants to believe in Damon Lindelof and I WAS RIGHT!!! honestly still cannot believe that he pulled off this highwire act with such deft aplomb. might be my favorite TV this year, which is a pretty high bar given how much TV i ended up watching.

On a Sunbeam (comic, finished 2/1/2020): Tillie Walden rightly deserves all the praise for inventive queer storytelling, but i will say that on reread--since i first read this as a webcomic--there ARE some issues with pacing here that clearly come from the foibles of its original intended medium. still just excellent, even if after some plot significant haircuts i was having trouble telling a few folks apart.

Lazarus (comic, 1 trade finished 2/8/2020): it’s so good and i want moooooorrrreee--though obviously Rucka and Lark have the right to take all the time they need. the newer longer issues work really well with the epic prestige drama vibes of the story! i’m into it.

The Good Place (TV, 4 seasons finished 2/18/2020): i’m gonna be super honest: i actually wasn’t a big fan of the finale, nor the last season as a whole. it felt like all of Eleanor’s flaws vanished for a majority of the season, and the Chidi-centric episode where they tried to give a legible justification for why he’s Like This was...i didn’t care for it. still, it’s so good and unique on the WHOLE that we’ll literally never get anything like this ever again, and that counts for a lot.

The Old Republic (game, finished 2/21/2020): it’s an MMO so it will never actually Be Finished so long as the servers aren’t shut down, but i caught up on the content i’d missed in the intervening months. Onslaught thus far has mostly been...kinda bland tbh; going back to Imps vs. Rebs after all the shakeups in the previous expansions feels like a waste.

High Road (album, finished 2/22/2020): someone should tell Kesha not to say that word!! otherwise i was very happy with this album, and happy FOR her even though we don’t know each other. being able to find joy again in the same genre of music you made while you were being horrifically exploited is very cool.

Young Justice (TV, 13 episodes finished 2/28/2020): given how much the middle stuff dragged--STOP KILLING YOUR HIJABI CHARACTER IN HORRIFIC WAYS--i was...actually kinda mad by how the end managed to stick the landing anyway. the day being saved by Vic’s self-acceptance and Violet’s sublime compassion was A+, and even the Brion/Tara switchup was a pleasant surprise, though it relied on me caring about Brion MUCH MORE than i actually did.

Manic (album, finished 2/29/2020): do people still care for/about Halsey? i feel like even That One Song that was on every tumblr gifset ever has kinda faded into obscurity at this point. this album was...okay. i feel like people give Halsey a pass for extremely obvious lyrical turns that they wouldn’t for other folks because of her subject material--which is fine. not really my cup of tea, but i also listened to lots of Relient K this year, so that’s probably a good thing.

Jade Empire (game, 3/10/2020): the only 3D-era Bioware game that didn’t franchise out, and for good fucking reason!!! the Orientalism and appropriation really haven’t aged well, and even beyond that the story was...standard Bioware faire. even my usual “my wife’s a bitch i love her” Bioware type didn’t do it for me, and i just ended up romancing no one. it did make me think a lot about what level of cultural borrowing is accepted nowadays, and why: people still look fondly at Avatar and talk about how ~accurate and respectful it was, for example, despite it being staffed almost entirely by white folks, and the Orientalism ALL OVER the monk class in DND is still fine for some reason.

Alif the Unseen (book, finished 3/31/2020): interesting to have read this AFTER reading The Bird King last year, because it highlights how the intervening years have shifted G. Willow Wilson’s thematic interest and improved her craft. i’m actually quite fond of how her characterization work is rougher here--Alif is extremely flawed to the point of being insufferable, but it makes his development by the end more satisfying. Dina is also just good and i love her

Baldur’s Gate (2 games, finished 5/31/2020): well, having finally finished the series i’m happy to say that it...still doesn’t really do it for me, sorry. any awesome story moments were overshadowed by the EXCRUCIATING inventory management system and the combat (i still don’t know what a THAC0 is and at this point i’m afraid to find out). these games crucially lack the Home Base that later Bioware games were so good about, and that (coupled with the huge cast of characters you can drop off and never see again) really hurts the intimacy for me. by the time we finally did get one it was the Hell Dimension in Throne of Bhaal, and i was just...trying to get through it. (yes, i did just say that about one of the most beloved expansions ever to one of the most beloved games ever.) THIS particular iteration of “my wife’s a bitch i love her” was very good, but the game wouldn’t let me romance her :(

The Underground Railroad (book, finished 6/19/2020): honestly what is there even left to say at this point! it was exactly as good as every critic on the planet said it was, even with my usual aversion to hype. draining and horrifying in turns but still insistent upon a future for Black folks.

Steven Universe (6 seasons and a mooooooviiieeee, finished 7/11/2020): yes, i DID finish the show and almost immediately begin a rewatch. this series is now one of my top five most formative things, and the amount of love and respect i have for it is incalculable. that said: i once again did not love how the central conflict of Future was resolved (just the resolution--i loved the finale just fine). for all of Steven’s breakdown was built up, resolving it with “EVERYONE HUG HIM UNTIL HE CRIES” felt...cheap, especially since up until this point the show had been so good about treating trauma and mental illness with the respect and nuance it deserves. it made me wish some of the earlier, less substantial episodes had been cut so we could spend more time at the end.

What It Is (comic, finished 8/19/2020): y’all i love Lynda Barry SO MUCH. for the longest time i was worried that One Hundred Demons was more a lightning in a bottle situation but every book of hers i pick up makes me feel obscure emotions i didn’t even realize existed. the compassionate way she’s able to describe her child self and how weird and fucked up she was (and still is) is honestly aspirational.

She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (TV, 5 seasons finished 9/26/2020): so here’s a reversal of what i’ve been complaining about with other shows: i was mostly lukewarm-to-warm about She-Ra, but the later seasons and the finale made me much more into it as a whole. more shows should improve in stakes and overall quality as they age tbh!! i still don’t actively love Catradora (my sole quibble with season 5 actually has to do with the way Adora kept backsliding as a character to make certain Plot/Relationship things happen), but i’m very happy for them nonetheless. i can certainly appreciate a show that will go for High Feeling over tight plot. dark horse standout moments: trees growing everywhere proving that Perfuma Was Right, and Hordak and Adora seeing each other--that weirdly intimate moment of recognition.

Fetch the Bolt Cutters (album, finished 10/7/2020): again i find myself not having much to say that no one else has said. it’s good! once again love it when an artist reclaims something they’d attached with negative affect (anxiety, depression, disordered eating) for better and brighter things.

Solutions and Other Problems (comic, finished 10/25/2020): i was very into Allie Brosh’s ambition with this book, which feels weird to say but i stand by it. it’s cool to see an artist try to make a new medium work for them instead of just sticking to what already works. not all the experimentation was 100% effective, but it was still delightful and occasionally devastating to read, so.

Legend of Zelda (3 games: Ocarina of Time, Majora’s Mask, Link Between Worlds, finished 11/1/2020): this was the third time i’d played Ocarina of Time, which made it the nice, comforting groove i settled into before Majora’s Mask blatted me in the face. i’m not usually a completionist Zelda person because...the gameplay in Zelda is bad, do not at me it just is, but i really felt like i HAD to be one for Majora’s Mask since the whole point is to get attached to the banalities of the town. i’m sure nobody’s surprised that i loved it, even if it gave me an existential crisis about how life goes on in the game for NPCs when you’re not there to save them from it, and there’s not enough time to save them all all the time (also not a surprise to anyone: Romani and Cremia gave Personal Feelings). Link Between Worlds...bad. not like in a “this is a bad story by every measurable gauge” way, but i was already struggling with the 2D playstyle shift enough that for the whole story to end with some “yes it’s v sad that Lorule is Like This but trying to steal Hyrule’s privilege is Even Worse Actually” noblesse oblige bullshit left a VERY poor taste in my mouth, this year of all years. i did audibly gasp when Ravio took off his mask, though. i’m currently playing Breath of the Wild in cautious increments; it’s the first time i’ve enjoyed early Zelda gameplay, but if they wanted fully voiced cutscenes i wish they got voice actors who...knew what words sound like.

folklore (album, finished 11/6/2020): my belief that Taylor Swift is Just Fine continues, i’m afraid. i LIKED this album, don’t get me wrong, and respect her constant drive to innovate, but i didn’t love it substantially more or less than any other Taylor Swift album. mostly i’m just tickled by how she thinks leaning into the indie aesthetic means borrowing Vita Sackville-West’s entire wardrobe, though i will admit to feeling Something when she swore in a song. i think it was like. savage vindication?? you go ahead and swear, Taylor Swift. you deserve it.

Shore (album, finished 11/19/2020): do people still care about the Fleet Foxes? i think there was some Drama with Josh Tillman a while back but i don’t remember where the discourse landed with who was being more problematic. it was nostalgic for me to listen to their new album--made me remember being an undergrad who exclusively listened to men who mumbled and played acoustic guitar all over again.

Star Wars (3 movies: original trilogy, finished 11/27/2020): there is So Much bad Star Wars these days that every time i rewatch the original trilogy i’m afraid that they will suddenly be bad, but guess what! they’re not. i love these children and their hot mess stories, i love that Lando doesn’t know how to say his best friend’s name. what stood out to me this time was the way Obi-Wan described the Force in A New Hope, which strongly implied that ANYONE can be Force Sensitive; that obviously faded with each subsequent movie, but part of me does wish they’d kept it.

X of Swords (comics, 22 issues finished 12/5/2020): i am enjoying Hickman’s X-lines!!! not so much here for the Grand Conspiracy or whatever, but the character work and highkey weirdness is fabulous--they FEEL like X-Men, despite all the shakeups in-universe. this crossover is a nice microcosm of all that: grandiloquently all over the place, but still full of cool standout moments and genuine hilarity. ILLYANA DOESN’T KNOW HOW TO SPELL MAGIC.

Fire Emblem (4 games: Sacred Stones, Path of Radiance, Radiant Dawn, Awakening, finished 12/14/2020): this was the thing that i was closest to giving up early on, but i ended up hyperfixating on it instead. that’s a credit to what the gameplay does to my lizard brain more than anything else, because the story and character writing is...insipid. it was very bizarre to witness this franchise blunder around with its animal-people racism allegory around the same time i was getting back into RWBY, and ITS animal-people racism allegory blunders. Awakening was the first time i felt anything for the franchise beyond “teehee red units disappear make exp bar go up and brain go ding,” so i’m excited for more mature storytelling in subsequent games (they MUST get better. they MUST). the child husbandry thing is...very bad tho, and Apotheosis being “challenging” entirely through the game changing all the rules is also bad.

once again no vidya games that came out this year--i’ll probably pick up Spiritfarer or Hades after the New Year, though (or maybe TLOU II! but probably not. sry Laura and Ashley). more TV and franchises this year, which made me feel In Touch with the Children but was also kinda exhausting. nothing was so egregiously terrible i dropped it without finishing! in a year like this that feels almost like an accomplishment