#Literally all they did wasn’t not force him to have a fake American accent

[heycarrots]

FYI…

Toby Stephens is English. He’s not American putting on an accent. He’s not Australian. He’s English. The accent is British and a softened version of his natural accent, which is much more posh.

You’re welcome.

[holycatsandrabbits]

Tollense, an original serial romance by Dannye Chase, Chapter 1

A history professor falls in love with his best friend, a 3000-year-old vampire.

READ FROM THE BEGINNING: You are here!

NEXT

Chapter 1

1993

Professor Liam Beyer was born a decade after the deaths of the last soldiers to fight in the US Civil War. Thus, he was not expecting to meet a Union Army veteran in his 4 o’clock symposium on the Battle of Antietam.

Liam noticed the man as soon as he walked in, and not just because it was odd for a member of the public to show up for a faculty lecture at the university. No, the man caught Liam’s attention because he was distractingly handsome. Literally, Liam was distracted enough to drop his pen onto the overhead projector, causing a giant shadow to loom over the map of Maryland on the screen behind him, as if a third army had materialized there in a dense offensive line.

The man was of average height, with a slender build. He had dark hair in a short, modern cut and wore a pair of jeans and a white t-shirt with a faded label. He looked like he might be thirty, which was about the age Liam was, and so Liam did not immediately assume that the man had seen action in the Civil War. But there was something faintly strange about him, just in the way that he walked, light on his feet like a dancer, but stepping firmly, without a dancer’s well-practiced grace.

“General Lee,” Liam continued, in a slightly strangled voice, “of the Confederate Army, was, of course, outnumbered, but the battle was Union General McClellan’s to lose. Had he understood how superior his force was, had he taken more risks, he might have been able to deal a decisive blow to Lee’s army as it retreated. In fact, McClellan’s performance at Antietam was part of the reason that President Lincoln later removed him from duty.”

Liam put up a transparency of a white church with peeling paint, standing alone on a grassy rise. “On September 17, 1862, 7,650 soldiers died at Antietam, making it the bloodiest day for Americans in history. Two days later, a man named Alexander Gardner took some of the first widely-seen battlefield photographs of dead soldiers. Some were awaiting burial, and some were still lying where they fell. It was very difficult at the time to take photographs of battles themselves, as the technology involved careful treatment of glass negatives, and that was nearly impossible under battlefield conditions. But the dead do not move, and these photographs were so clear that when displayed in New York, family members recognized their fallen sons.”

Liam put up a transparency of one of Gardner’s photographs, young men lying on the ground in an oddly perfect line. The unknown man looked away.

oOo

Liam had grading to do after his symposium, but he walked to the campus union to grab a sandwich first. He was definitely not expecting Handsome Unknown Lecture Man to appear out of the crowd and drop into the seat opposite him. Liam was very proud that he did not choke on his bite of ham and swiss.

“I hope you don’t mind,” said the man. “I enjoyed your lecture. My name is Kurt.”

Liam put his hand out to shake. Kurt’s touch was faintly cold. “Liam,” he said.

Kurt cocked his head slightly to the side, as if assessing him. “I know. Liam Beyer, 27, assistant professor of history, specializing in battles. Is Antietam your favorite?”

“Um— one of them. I did my dissertation on it. On McClellan, specifically.” Liam felt slightly odd about the fact that this stranger knew who he was, but of course, it was all publicly accessible information. “Are you a Civil War buff?”

“Somewhat.” Kurt leaned back in his chair. “Antietam, god. I remember Bloody Lane— that’s what they called it after. The road was sunken in because so many wagons had gone by over the years. It was like trying to fight your way out of your own grave trench.” Kurt spoke with a faint accent that Liam could not place, something that seemed to shift from one place to another.

“You talk like you were there,” Liam said, smiling. “Are you a reenactor?”

Kurt gave a sharp laugh. “No. You?”

“I’ve been a technical advisor. It’s nice to meet other people who share my strange obsession.”

“Those pictures you showed,” Kurt said. “Photography is such a bewitching art. Those boys are long gone, but remain ever present in death.”

“You know, the war helped make Spiritualism popular,” Liam said. “It was so hard on the families back home to lose contact with their soldiers, not knowing what happened to them, or when, or where. They couldn’t bear it, and turned to mediums.”

Kurt smiled, and it made his bright green eyes sparkle with amusement. “Have you ever been to a seance?” he asked. Liam shook his head. “Most I’ve been to were quite boring,” Kurt said. “But every once in awhile—”

“That sounds like a good story.”

“I’ll tell you sometime.” Liam’s brain was already far too occupied with how attractive he found this poor man, and that was probably why the sentence sounded more like a salacious promise than it really was.

“So what do you do?” Liam asked faintly, crumpling his empty sandwich wrapper. “Are you a student?”

“Not at the moment. Just a fan of history. Of battles, actually.” Kurt leaned forward a little. “Liam, would you mind if I came to your office tomorrow to talk more? I have some questions and I think you might be the one to help me answer them.”

“I— of course.” Liam told himself that he agreed solely because he liked to talk about history with people, and that it didn’t matter whether or not said people were ridiculously attractive.

Kurt smiled at him again. “Until tomorrow then.”

On his way out of the dining hall, Liam was stopped by a student with a question about an assignment on Gettysburg. “I didn’t want to interrupt your dinner,” she said.

“Oh, it would have been fine,” Liam told her. “We were talking about the Civil War ourselves.”

The student gave him a confused look. “Dr. Beyer— weren’t you eating alone?”

oOo

In the end, Liam decided that as he’d never dreamed up a handsome man in quite so much detail before, that the student had been mistaken and simply had not noticed Kurt’s presence at Liam’s table.

And yet. There really was something very strange about the man. Liam couldn’t quite pin it down, just that there was a disconnect between what Liam was seeing and what he was feeling about him. For example, Kurt appeared to be thirty, but Liam would swear he was older. Kurt had looked perfectly natural at dinner, but it had also seemed like he didn’t quite fit in with his surroundings. Like if you’d taken a photograph of him at the table, he would have been slightly too bright, out of focus, or without a shadow.

Kurt’s knock on Liam’s office door finally came around eleven, and Liam was, he realized, far too happy to see him again. At first, nothing about the visit seemed terribly odd. They discussed Antietam again, then traveled forward to the Somme, and then much farther back, Megiddo and Kadesh. Kurt seemed to know less about those battles, Liam noted, but he was quite familiar with things taking place after Thermopylae in the 5th century BC.

It was easy to talk to Kurt, especially about interests they had in common, and as the conversation went on, Kurt seemed to relax a bit, which made Liam do the same. The day before, Liam had thought Kurt moved without grace, but that wasn’t exactly right. Kurt had a different kind of grace, a fluidity of small movements instead of large ones, an artistry shown in the fluttering of fingers while the rest of the man kept entirely still. The emphasis on such small motions seemed to draw Liam in, narrowing his focus away from his surroundings and onto his visitor. But at the same time, Kurt had such an air of other about him, that it was almost like Liam was looking at him through beveled glass, never quite getting the whole image at once.

However, Liam’s sense of ease around Kurt vanished entirely when another student knocked on Liam’s door with a question about an assignment. That in itself was perfectly normal, but during the whole time that the student was in Liam’s office, she didn’t speak to Kurt or apologize for interrupting their conversation. She didn’t give a single look to the chair that Kurt occupied beside Liam’s desk.

When the student had left, Liam leaned back in his chair, trying to fake the calmness that he no longer felt. “All right,” he said, watching his visitor carefully. “You want to tell me why I’m the only person who can see you?”

********

READ FROM THE BEGINNING: You are here!

NEXT

Updates Fridays on Ao3 and DannyeChase.com (rated E), and Tumblr (rated T)

Want to create fic, art, or other works based on this series? Please do! Just dm or tag me.

My previous serials are for Good Omens: Mr. Fell's Bookshop and Love's Endless Light

My Carrd

[loveablehands]

RED GUARDIAN. absence makes the heart grow fonder.

there’s a reason why natasha & yelena knew where alexei was being kept: and it’s not just bc they’re spies and/or because it’s easily accesible information.

alexei genuinely tried contacting them multiple times. to the point of excess. and he succeeded, multiple times, enough to get the information to them about where he is, where they could find him, in a top secret government prison.

did he love them, as children? a good question, as he was not supposed to, was never supposed to. they were girls---and their organization treats girls, especially young girls, as trash that is made useful by becoming objectified murder dolls.

and alexei... he is, at his core, a self-centered, selfish and vain kind of man that often times feeds into the misogyny despite or maybe because of his tankie status. he was born for violence, he was born for great feats of heroism and patriotism and, while he believes in an end to capitalism and that the west is altogether evil---he is prone to chauvinism and violence & wanting glory above justice, action above kindness, immediate satisfaction and validation over true relationships.

melina and him were never more intimate than they needed to be, and he never wanted to adopt children in the fist place---always thought that if he was able to have children (as he too was sterilized by the serum) he would want little alexeis running around with his face & blood, and most of the time he spent with his ‘family’ were literal outings where they would PRETEND to be a middle class american family, doing things he hated at malls and museums and top secret photo studios in yelena’s most treasured memories, but doing much, much less intimate and vulnerable and fun things than that on average.

natasha & melina talk about how the photographs of their holidays in their scrapbook were all fake and there weren’t even any presents in the boxes, and yet natasha still experienced joy at this memory (likely bc while they had little in common and were very little like areal family---melina & alexei’s great senses of humor shined right through and made it fun for their children, and yelena’s childlike joy was infectious, but still). likewise, for the less than three years they were together---every outing and time spent together for milestones and major events was meant to be as empty and american as possible, even if it didn’t feel that way bc they tried to make it seem real and fun for the girls. even when alexei says goodbye to his girls---it is not with his real, true voice, his real, true accent. he is pantomiming an american father. he is not permitted even to tell yelena where she comes from, much less any stories about his own father, his own family, his own pride.

still, alexei and melina were mostly all alone in ohio, in a time before the internet and iphones so readily connected people across countries and borders. they would both spend a lot of time waiting for orders in discrete locations---wanting to hear from the people who raised them---who FELT like family, who FELT like friends. there were other families just like theirs---but spread so far apart, they felt completely alone sometimes, and trapped with each other, trapped with two little girls who they were not TAUGHT to love, who they were not taught to raise. they were forced to deal with the day-to-day aspect of raising them AND training them regardless. and in these moments, melina and alexei and natasha and yelena all found a strange kind of love, a dysfunctional kind of love, a camp kind of love where alexei and melina used their sense of humor to cope with this leave it to beaver lifestyle and made something special and warm about it.

because at his core, alexei has always had the wry, silly dad kind of humor. the kind of dad that sticks his tongue out at babies and infants and makes them laugh like no one else can, especially after an argument. who is thoughtful while still being rude, who is gentle while still being moody.

alexei doesn’t know if he loved his girls while they were truly his girls. not enough to count. not enough to save them from himself and every other man in russia.

but after the events of the opening---he was basically thrown in prison almost immediately after. and he went from having the world at his beck and call, to having only three people to care about and who cared about him---to having no one, no one at all, being a total joke in the prison.

and he just. kept checking up on all of them as much as he could. he would reach out to them almost constantly. mostly melina---to see if she could get him out of there. but as natasha and yelena grew in notoriety----well, he started asking them for favors too, interspersed between telling them how proud he is of them. AND HE GENUINELY IS PROUD of the great things they’ve done for the country, and how those have become his achievements when he COULD NOT make his own achievements. his girls, his achievements. their trauma, his pride.

getting in contact with them honestly isn’t easy--and it hurts, when he hears nothing back, but he shakes it off and keeps trying, keeps listening to tales of their latest exploits, and then, embellishing on them in his own stories. they’re giants in his head, heroes, the avenger and the greatest child soldier ever.

when he says they came! he’s not honestly surprised. he’s surprised they didn’t come SOONER. he never gave up hope, not truly.

bc in his head---they ARE his girls. he’s spent so much time alone, so much time talking about them. he’s grown quite fond of them and the fantasy of a family he has in his head of them, just like the fantasy in his head of beating captain america, of being the red guardian. he has a dream they will become a real superhero family team like the incredibles or something. he’s happy to see them. not sure why they’re not happy to see him.

he’s developed a relationship with them in his head that does not exist, and is too stubborn and willfully delusional to pretend to be normal---pretend that he ACTUALLY thinks he could have POSSIBLY hurt them, pretend that he actually thinks he wasn’t the best thing that could have happened to them. until the end.

they are a real family to him, now. the closest thing he’s ever had to one, and in his head and his heart, he spent every moment with them, slinging around tall tales to his fellow inmates in between tattoos to the point they might as well be real.

and, like a true, real dark bad dad humor fashion, every trauma he’s inflicted on them wasn’t that bad even if it IS his fault, and is, in his version of the truth, actually quite funny! something to drink and laugh about! you’re old enough to drink and laugh now, aren’t you, girls? lets drink and laugh then. you know this reminds me of a time when my father---

(he might not apologize that well for everything, but he’s at least willing to go against the people who put him in prison that he’s devoted his life to, and that’s something, right?)

[dnfisgay]

Mr. Loverman - Chapter 1

a/n: hey! welcome to my first fic on here! i kinda feel like i’m back in freshman year writing youtube rpf but hey! we’re all regressing anyway aren’t we? this is a dreamnotfound fic based on the online personas of georgenotfound and dream. this is in no way meant to pressure them or their relationship, and if either of them say they’re uncomfortable with fanfiction i’ll take this down! but anyway at the beginning of every chapter there will be a content warning section and a summary if needed, or if any plot altering events happen during the possibly triggering sections. i hope y’all enjoy Mr. Loverman, a fic based on the song by Ricky Montgomery. 

THIS IS MY OWN WORK. PLEASE DO NOT REPOST ON ANY OTHER BLOGS/SITES WITHOUT PERMISSION. DO NOT REPOST AS YOUR OWN. 

Prologue 

Sometimes, a simple decision is what changes your life the most. Sometimes, a tragedy is a blessing in disguise. Not always, but enough of the time for a few lucky people to benefit. We were some of those people. A simple decision changed... everything. Everyone. Changed me, changed him. Sometimes, we regret those decisions. Other times, they’re the best thing that’s ever happened. We made history together. We made our own history. We changed ourselves for the better. Part of it was born of tragedy, of pain and suffering, of wrong-place-wrong-time. But after, we were born anew. A butterfly emerging from fog. 

The rainbow after a storm. A soft mist at the edge of a violent fall. Our own little refuge within the storm. We made history together, you and me. 

“I've shattered now, I'm spilling out Upon this linoleum ground  I'm reeling in my brain again Before it can get back to you  Oh, what am I supposed to do without you?”

Content Warnings: none 

Word count: 1,520

Chapter One - A New Chapter Of Us

“What if we moved in together?”

George laughed. 

‘What? You’re joking.”

“No! I’m totally serious!” Dream said, laying on his bed. “Think about it. You could get a work visa, come live with me, and we can make videos together! Like vlogs and stuff! You can get away from your family, and I… well I get you! It’s obviously a win-win situation.”

“Vlogs? You don’t even show your face.”

“Oh… yeah. Well, whatever! I’ll do a face reveal. Please, George!”

George’s hesitance showed, making Dream bounce on his knees on the bed, literally begging him.

“Please George! Please!” he laughed, waiting for him to agree. George stayed silent, trying to hide his smile.

“I guess you don’t love me then… oh bother,” Dream fake pouted at him, pretending to cry, rubbing his eyes to make them red. He couldn’t hide the smile in his voice.

“Okay, alright, you wore me down,” George said. “Looks like I’m going to Florida!” 

---

It’d been three months since Dream asked George to move in with him, and every day he’d sent him pictures of their place. Their place. He doesn’t know why that made him so happy to hear, especially coming from Dream. When he showed George the lounge and texted him “our living room :D,”  he felt like his whole entire body was lit ablaze. Like a firework on the Fourth of July -- how American of you already, George, he could hear Dream’s voice saying. It felt like when his first girlfriend told him I love you for the first time. Except... not that. Obviously not that. 

And the day was finally here, after waiting for the visa to get approved, and video chats, and seeing only pictures, it was finally going to be their place. Dream and George’s place. There would be no more lagging video or Discord crashing on them. If the internet went out, he’d still be in the next room over. He’d still be his.

Well, not his. But he’d be there. George felt the need to explain himself even in his own head.

The sound of Dream’s Discord ringer cut through his thoughts, too loud for his own good. He stretched over to his desk and answered, turning his camera on too. 

“Georgie!” Dream said, bouncing with excitement. “Guess what tomorrow is, Georgie.” He leaned forward on his desk, wiggling his eyebrows at George. 

George feigned confusion. “I don’t know, Dream. What’s tomorrow?”

Dream pouted. “Are you being serious right now? Do you really not remember?”

“Dream! I’m literally packing right now!”

“I’m litch-rally packing right now!” Dream mocked, impersonating George’s British accent. George stared him down while Dream was folded over laughing. 

“It’s not too late for me to change my mind, you know.”

“Actually, it is. Work visas have to be used or you’ll get a fine,” Dream said, chewing loudly on what looked like — popcorn? God, Americans were weird. 

“Is that actually true or did you just make that up so I have no choice but to come?” 

Dream looked like a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar. “...Maybe.” George laughed silently, smiling to himself. He would never say it out loud, but he loved Dream. He didn’t know what made him keep it to himself when Dream all but shouted it from the rooftops, but something inside of him felt it was too real to be said. Dream knew it was true, and that was good enough, right? 

“Did you want to watch me pack?” George said, folding another one of his shirts and placing it in the box. Dream wasn’t paying attention. He was messing with something on his desk, his tongue sticking out and his eyebrows furrowed so tightly you could barely see his eyes. George loved his eyes, they were a warm pale green color that fit him perfectly. George snapped his fingers at Dream and asked if he was listening. 

“Huh? Oh. No. I’m sorry,” Dream looked sheepish, worried. “I didn’t— I didn’t mean to, I just zone out sometimes, I’m really sorr—“ 

“Dream, Dream, calm down. It’s okay,” George smiled. “I’m not mad. Did you want me to ask the question again?”

“Please.”

“I asked if you wanted to watch me pack,” he asked, knowing which answer he hoped for. 

“Ooh, can I stay on?” Dream looked giddy as he asked. “I wanna tell you about my new bedwars record.”

“Sounds perfect, Dream.” 

---

It took him two more hours to finish packing up his clothes, bathroom necessities, and shoes, spare for the ones he needed on the plane. Dream had talked on and on for the whole two hours, about bedwars and what he was going to make for dinner, and how his mom sent him over homemade banana bread the other day. And even Patches made an appearance after a while. 

“Oh my God, Patches! I get to meet Patches! You know Dream, I’m kind of more excited to meet her than I am you.”

“Haha, very funny,” Dream cooed. “Not like Patches will make you dinner or comfort you when you have nightmares. 

“Nightmares? I do not have nightmares!” George defended, despite the fact he did definitely have nightmares. And he knew Dream knew that, he’d been the one called at 4 in the morning and the one who talked George back to sleep. It was all part of the game, though, the cat and mouse they had going on. He wondered who was the cat and who was the mouse

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, Georgie. Oh, wait,” Dream smirked, laughing his ass off. George gasped and tossed his dirty shirt at his webcam, not minding the fact that it was still on his body and that he was now shirtless in his cold room. 

“Hey! I wanna see the view! You look sexy with your hair messed up like that.”

“Haha, very funny,” George fake laughed, though Dream didn’t. He usually laughed after jokes like that. What made this one different? “If I wasn’t so bloody cold right now I’d leave it on there. Make you suffer all alone under there.” He heard Dream whimper, and he didn’t know what it was, but it made his stomach churn. “But, I am very, very freezing right now.”

He pulled the shirt off the webcam, covering his chest with the fabric. “There. You have been freed,” he said, slipping his shirt back on. He swore he saw Dream’s eyes linger on the strip of skin still exposed on his stomach before he pulled it down. 

“I’m gonna go make some dinner,” George said, checking the time on his phone. “What, it’s already 9? Jesus. I’ll be right back, I’m gonna go make some cereal real quick, stay on the call.”

George put Dream’s volume loud enough that he could hear it decently from across the flat. Meaning, Dream could also hear him burning himself. 

“Did you just burn yourself? Aren’t you making cereal?” 

“Um…maybe?” he said, shouting over the cold running water. “I may have accidentally left the oven on from when I made salmon last night.”

“Last night?” Dream screamed in horror. “Genuinely, how are you not dead yet?” 

“I don’t know!” he said, wincing and drying off his hand before grabbing his bowl of cereal. Well, it wasn’t a bowl, but a large Tupperware container. 

“Is that Tupperware?” Dream asked as he sat down at his desk. 

“It was the easiest thing to unpack.” 

George ate his cereal in silence for a few minutes, drinking down the last bit of the sugary milk before asking “What were you staring at earlier? When you got distracted.” 

It took Dream a few seconds, but he finally remembered. “Oh! This!” He pulled out a tiny crossbow made of pencils and shot a rubber band at his camera. 

“That’s actually so sick,” George said, staring more intently at his screen to get a closer look. Dream went off on a tangent about it, showing him the mechanics and everything it could shoot. He swore he’d have another one for George by the time he got home. Home. He liked that word coming out of Dream’s mouth. He liked hearing it about himself. 

Eventually, it got too late for George to be up anymore. His flight left in 7 hours and he still needed to pack his PC. Dream pouted when he told him he had to go, but perked back up when he remembered the next time he’d see George, he’d be able to hug him! He was all but forcing his body to get tired after that. 

“Wake me up if you need me, okay?”

“Okay.”

“I love you, Georgie,” Dream smiled. This time, he didn't sound teasing. He sounded genuine, more genuine than he’d heard in a long time. 

“I… admire you too, Dream.” George’s face went flush and hot, his cheeks blotchy with pink and peach. 

“Psh! When are you ever gonna say it back?” 

“Never, I thought we’d been over this.”

“Mark my words, Georgie. I will get you to say it back sooner or later.”

Yeah, right.

---

a/n: so! that was the first chapter of Mr. Loverman! i’d love any feedback and opinions y’all have! the next chapter should be up in a few days, and i even have art from one of my lovely twitter mutuals coming! i hope everyone enjoyed! :D feel free to reblog<3

Chapter 2 - Linoleum Ground (date TBD)

[ronninoir]

Can I Steal You for a Second? CH4

Summary: Adrien is forced to participate in a new dating show, but becomes more excited when Ladybug says she’ll participate as her civilian self. 

AKA: AU where Adrien doesn’t know Marinette, the superheroes are 22 and Gabriel is mean and ruthless but not Hawkmoth.

Read on AO3

Chapter 4

Adrien was in bed, nervously staring at his ceiling. Today was the day that 30 women would show up to the mansion. They would meet each other and be put in their Gabriel-brand dresses and then given time to do hair and make-up while at a warehouse downtown. Then, they would be moved and sent to meet him one by one in a limo and would participate in a cocktail party. Finally, he would have to cut the pool of girls down from 30 to 22. No matter which way Adrien looked at it, it was going to be a long day. 

But Ladybug will be there. That was the only thought that got him out of bed when the producer assigned to moving Adrien from place to place as the show went along (He considered her to be the TV version of Natalie, but he still hadn’t caught her name, so in his head he called her the Mini-Natalie) had begun calling at his door for him to get up. Today consisted of trying to memorize the names and pictures of the girls, hair and make-up, doing interviews about how he feels pre-meetings, and more hair and make-up before the girls began showing up at exactly nightfall. But, there was a ray of sunshine at the end of this tunnel, and it was covered in polka dots.

Adrien put on some acceptable clothes, brushed his teeth and his hair, and just barely remembered to grab Plagg from his pillow before he was rushed to a studio with a bagel in his mouth. They planned on taking videos of him doing natural things in his life, but they had set it all up in a studio so it would be just right. He felt anything but natural posing and walking around the fake sidewalk and scenery.

After he had finished with those, they moved him to a grey screen-covered area where Adrien was to do various poses with a long-stemmed rose. He felt even more awkward doing these shots than he had doing the “natural posing” earlier. They made him smile really bright and act like he was “in love.” Thankfully, all he had to do was think of Ladybug and finding out her identity and he then had the perfect look for these shots down.

They also made him work out with weights for about an hour while filming the whole thing. This wasn’t too terrible as his Father made him do similar things now that he was out of high school in order for him to keep his body shape. (If only he knew about his runs as Chat Noir, the gym workouts would be unnecessary) Though normally he did all of his workouts with a shirt on. Either that or a skin-tight leather suit. Then, and honestly the most embarrassing of all, they took a large number of shots of Adrien showering. Why, the world needed to see Adrien shirtless with water running through his hair and down his chest he literally had no idea. Thankfully he was allowed to wear swim trunks, so as to not be too exposed. But, his many years of modeling had taught Adrien never to argue with the director and he figured that applied in this situation as well.

Once the B-roll shots were taken, Adrien was whisked away for hair and make-up and another, more formal outfit for the interviews. They asked him too many questions and he just had to keep acting excited about everything that was going on. Some of the questions were just too personal or sounded funny, but Plagg was having a blast silently laughing at what Adrien was saying. Occasionally, Adrien would “stretch” and slap his pocket where Plagg was hiding. He was rewarded with a squeal and some silence for about 5 minutes before Plagg would start up again.

He was coached to be honest about some things, so when they asked about the first Rose Ceremony tonight and if he was nervous, he had no shame in saying absolutely. He cited possibly not being able to get a feel for every girl tonight as well as having to remember their names as the reason for his nervousness. Although those were true, he was mostly worried that his Lady would slip past his notice and be cut before he could figure out it was her. His only saving grace was that tomorrow was Sunday, so it wouldn’t take long for him to discover his mistake.

The questions never seemed to end, and when he asked why there were so many, the director explained that since they had to make a ton of promotional videos to get the word about the show out, as well as fill in stuff for the first episode, they had to have an abundance of material. That, at least, made sense to Adrien. He tried to play up to the camera as much as he could, but by the end he was over it.

It was almost time for dinner and then the start of the show when the director reached the final question, “In your honest opinion, Adrien, do you think this could work? Do you think you’ll be able to find love?”

Without any hesitation, Adrien’s smiled softened as he began to think about Ladybug. His response of, “I truly believe that I will meet my soulmate tonight,” earned him a handful of “awes” and sighs from the production staff. With the knowledge that he had at least given one camera-worthy response, he allowed himself to be dragged away from the set and into, yet another, stylist chair.

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

Marinette was feeling just as stressed as Adrien, but for a whole different reason. As soon as she arrived, she had an uneasy feeling. The limo driver had dropped her off at a warehouse building on the outskirts of town. It wasn’t a place she visited often as Ladybug, and so she was very unfamiliar with the area. Once inside, she was immediately ushered to a conference room where the girls were going to meet the people in charge of them and receive the concrete schedule for that day. When she asked about her luggage, a lady told her that it was going to be held by the workers in case she got cut tonight and needed to head straight home.

 “But don’t worry sweetheart, nothing’s going to happen to your things, but if you make it through tonight, you’ll be moved into the mansion quickly.” The lady gave Marinette a once over and then said, “And when you get sent home, we’ll take care of everything for you.” For some reason, Marinette wasn’t put at ease.

The conference room felt crowded with all thirty of the girls as well as a handful of producers. Marinette sat, looked around the room, and was whispering to Tikki underneath her breath. “I hope some of the girls who I met while we were getting interviewed and photographed made it. It’d be nice to see a familiar face. Or I should say, a familiar friendly face.” The annoying girl who made all of the other girls flock to her from the interview weekend, Lila, had been cast and Marinette was less than thrilled.

“I could scope out the room for you, Marinette!”

“No, I don’t want you to get lost in all of the chaos. I may let you do some exploring later. Thank you for offering, though.” Marinette gave Tikki a smile and reached her hand in to brush her finger against Tikki’s cheek. Tikki hugged her back and settled down in the purse. It took Tikki a couple of weeks, but eventually, she came around to the idea of Marinette participating. She even helped her stay calm when she was freaking out about packing and Alya hadn’t been called yet. Marinette was very grateful that she had Tikki throughout this process. She couldn’t imagine only having the other contestants to talk to all of the time and occasionally Adrien. Tikki’s going to help keep her sane.

An older man walked up to the front of the room and a hush quickly fell over the girls. There were a couple of other people around him, but he clearly was the one in charge, since everyone was looking at him, waiting for him to speak.

“Hello ladies. My name is Mike Fleiss, and I am the producer for the American version of The Bachelor. I’ve been asked to oversee this season to help push the show to be as successful as its counterpart over the seas.” He spoke French pretty well for an American, even if he did have an accent of sorts.

“I’m excited to see what this amazing and beautiful group of girls brings and I know that you all will jump start the Bachelor franchise very well. With that being said, we do have some “house rules” as you would call it, so let’s begin by going over those. Please pay attention, as you will be signing a piece of paper stating that you have gone over these rules with me.

The most important rule for you to remember is that you are not allowed to leave the mansion no matter what, unless you are on a date and are accompanied by Adrien or a producer. As long as you are in the show, you are our responsibility and we will not allow you to put yourself in harms way.”

One rule in and Marinette already knew she had to break it. She couldn’t not leave if an akuma attacked. And she had had promised Adrien that she would meet up with him every Sunday as Ladybug, and there was no way she was backing out of that. Thankfully, she could be sneaky and work around that one rule.

“There is also no use of phones or any other sort of technology that connects you to the outside world. There is no internet at this mansion and you are not allowed to have books of any kind except for the Bible unless preapproved by us.” Her sketch book was preapproved so she was good on that. “Please also note that music players are allowed but music can only be heard through earbuds for copyright reasons.

“Once inside the mansion, you are expected to do your own cooking, cleaning, and laundry. The mansion is already stocked with certain necessities, but if you ever need anything to cook with or you run out of something, let a producer know and we can make a trip to the store for you.” Considering Marinette did most of that for herself already, she wasn’t too worried. And maybe she could make friends by cooking some stuff for others too, so that could be fun.

 “Also, today and the day we shoot the last episode are the only days that the studio will do your hair and make-up. Every other day, you will be required to do it. Also, if you remember, when you were interviewed you were also measured and sized. That is because every outfit that you wear during the filming of this show is going to be a Gabriel piece. Gabriel Agreste has been very kind in allowing the show to do that and his people have picked out various outfits for you to choose from for tonight. Please note that if an outfit of yours goes missing when you are cut from the show, you will be fined and a police report will be filed.”

There were murmurs at that comment. The girl sitting closest to Marinette leaned over and whispered, “Wow that’s a lot for a missing dress,” Although Marinette understood why Gabriel was doing this, it still didn’t make it fun. What designer can make money if they give their clothes away, even if his outfits are ridiculously expensive.

“Now,” Mr. Fleiss’ voice brought all of the girls to silence again and he continued once he had all of their attention. “as you probably guessed, there are going to be cameras everywhere. If someone asks you for an interview, you do not decline. Everywhere you go, a camera goes. The only place they will not follow you into is the bathroom, but they will stand outside of the door and record sounds so be aware of that.” Mr. Fleiss paused as he seemed to make sure that everything had been covered.

 “That should be everything. If you have any questions, whether about the rules or the journey, please feel free to ask.” That moment was the first time that Marinette had seen him smile and with that smile, he gestured to the people stationed to the side of the rows of girls. “We have reached the fun part. If you would do the honors gentlemen,” the men started passing out bags to the girls closest to them and working their way around the room. “All of you are receiving a gift bag provided by our generous sponsors. Inside, you will find various hair products, different types of make-up, as well as some sunscreen and a lovely padded bikini gifted by Gabriel for you to use during the filming. And yes, before you ask, you can take the bikinis home with you.”

Excited chatter broke across the room as the girls got their bags and began pulling stuff out and looking through it. Marinette looked in hers and noticed a tube of waterproof mascara, a container of highlighter, a bottle of hair shining spray, a self-tanning lotion, the tube of sunscreen and her bikini, which was a bright red color. Red was a good color for her, for obvious reasons, and the padded bra part was nice as Marinette’s chest could use a little bit of help in that area.

 “That’s really nice of them!” Tikki whispered from Marinette’s purse.

 “I’m surprised they found so many sponsors for the show since it is so new here. This is some good, quality stuff here too. And now I can say I own a Gabriel original!” Marinette let out a tiny squeal.

 “I wouldn’t be too excited about that,” Tikki said with a laugh. “There’s not that much material here to make it too much of an original!”

 “Oh hush!” Marinette scolded, though her giggles made it seem less threatening than it was intended to be.

 Mr. Fleiss clapped and called the girls to attention. “Yes, yes, very exciting, but we have one more thing to discuss. The schedule for today. In about 20 minutes, you will be dismissed in groups of 5 to go and be worked on by our stylists. Once your hair and make-up is completed, you will be guided to your assigned dressing area, where your pre-picked dresses are waiting for you to choose from. A word of advice from someone who has worked on many seasons of this show: pick this dress wisely. If it’s too gaudy, Adrien won’t be interested. If it’s too plain, he won’t remember you.

 “And speaking of remembering, tonight you will have a chance to make a first impression. When you first get out of the limo, your look is what matters. When you walk up to Adrien though, you will be expected to have a minute conversation with him. Do something or say something to make him remember you. All of these need to be approved by Victoria,” He pointed to a lady with a clipboard who was standing by the door in the back. All of the girls were so still and quiet, you could have heard a pen drop.

 “He is not going to remember your name and want to keep you around if you don’t do something to catch his attention. You will have another chance to catch his attention during the cocktail party, so you can plan something a little more elaborate for then. During the cocktail party, however, it is your responsibility to find time with Adrien. Please keep everything you do appropriate and if you need anything not available in this building, let one of us know and we’ll make it happen for tonight.”

“The first group will be called in 15 minutes,” Victoria called out before walking out the door.  

 It took about a minute before the girls began chatting with everyone around them. They were all brainstorming on different ways they could make a good first impression. A girl a couple rows in front of her was explaining that she thought she could do a couple of backflips once out of the limo, she would just need to practice doing them in heels. Marinette thought that was a super cool idea and moved onto the next conversation. Everyone seemed to have an idea, no matter how out there it seemed.

 “Tikki, what do you think—”

 Before she could finish her sentence, the girl sitting directly next to Marinette, who was taller than Marinette by about 5 inches, had long blonde hair and a sweet smile, turned to her and caught her arm, preventing Marinette from conversing with Tikki.

 “Hi! It’s so nice to meet you! My name is Hanna and I’m from Camembert, France, you know like the cheese? My family are farmers and I am so excited to be here in the city. What’s your name? Where are you from? What do you think you’re going to do once you’re out of the limo?” She seemed to speak without taking a breath and Marinette mentally thanked Alya for her ability to understand what she had said.  

 “Umm, hi! My name is Marinette, I’m from Paris and I don’t know just yet.” She tried not to sound too distraught about not knowing what to do, but her nervous jitters were getting the best of her.

 Hanna began to ramble about all of the amazing things she’s seen of Paris and how excited she was to meet Adrien and nervous of making a good impression, and on and on. Marinette smiled at her speaking with such excitement about being able to drive past a real shopping mall. 

This girl, Hanna, seemed so innocent and cheerful and friendly and Marinette wondered how in the world she was going to fair in the competition. Especially with girls like Lila to manipulate her. In that moment, Marinette decided to befriend her and hopefully keep her out of harm’s way. Marinette stole a glance at Tikki, who gave her an approving nod and a smile.

 Hanna was currently stressing about what she was going to do tonight when Marinette interrupted her. “Hey, I’m sure everything is going to be okay! Let’s brainstorm ideas together. What do you enjoy doing? Anything we can use to make you pop?”

 Hanna talked for about 5 more minutes about all of the different things she could do, each idea worse than the last. Eventually, Marinette picked out that Hanna enjoyed singing karaoke with her family after dinner. When Marinette gently suggested that she bring a karaoke machine and sing a little to Adrien right out of the limo, Hanna jumped on the idea. She gathered Marinette in a bone-crushing hug and thanked her profusely. After letting go, she brought the idea up to Victoria, and was quickly scanning through a provided list of songs and deciding how romantic the song she sang needed to be when the first group was called.

 “Attention ladies. I need Alice, Celeste, Jeanne, Juliette, and Hanna for hair and make-up.”

 Hanna squealed and dropped her list on the ground out of excitement. Marinette quickly picked it up and passed it to her, accepting another hug from Hanna and promising to find her later today before the filming started.

 After she was off and Marinette was alone, she began brainstorming for herself. She had plenty of ideas of what she could do, each more insane than the last. At first, she thought of doing yo-yo tricks, or showing up in a red and black dress, or starting with some insane Ladybug-style tricks, but Tikki decided it was too obvious and that it wouldn’t be fair for the other girls if Adrien found out tonight, right off the bat. Thankfully Tikki had vetoed the idea, because she heard of another contestant who was doing that same thing. Apparently, it had gotten out that Adrien was a fan of Ladybug, so everyone from France (there were a couple of Swedish girls, one from Belgium, and of course, the Italian model, Lila) jumped at the opportunity to impress him using the super-heroine as a starting point.

 Soon, she was out of ideas and Marinette needed an idea that would make her stand out. She was trying not to be bitter about coming up with no ideas. She had an advantage over the others, and yet she couldn’t think of anything that would be good enough for her to do. What did she know that her Kitty loved that could blow him out of the water without fully giving away her identity?

 She was feeling helpless and stupid and annoyed when she overheard a conversation from some other contestants, one of whom was also having trouble coming up with something creative.

 “Just use your personality! If everyone else is doing something crazy as soon as they see him, be the one normal girl he talks to.”

 Marinette jerked her head up. Personality. She knew all about Adrien’s personality, or really, the personality he displayed as Chat. He claimed that Chat was his true personality, not the stuffy one his father made him have in his presence. Suddenly, she was so overcome with an idea, she was surprised it took her so long to think of it. It was brilliant and memorable and exactly something that her Kitty would love to hear tonight. A deep smile spread across her face as she ran to line up in front of Victoria, who was getting ready to call the next group. She wasn’t exactly going to be her normal, Ladybug self, but she was going to knock Adrien off of his feet.

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

Forty-five minutes later and Marinette’s group, the last one, was being called. She was rushed to a stylist chair where people began to swarm around her, grabbing her hair or moving her face in different directions. By the time they stepped away, Marinette almost didn’t recognize herself in the mirror. Her hair was loose and styled with soft curls with an intricate braid that hid her bangs. Her make-up was well-done and highlighted all of the important features.

She was then moved to a changing room that she shared with the other girls in her style group. Once she found the dress rack with her name on it, she began flipping through, looking for the perfect color and style dress. She finally found one that wouldn’t bring attention to her small chest but would make her curves stand out. And it was the exact color of her eyes, which would make them pop.

 Soon she was sitting at a table with all of the other girls, who looked just as beautiful as she did, and chattering with Hanna about tonight. Once all of Marinette’s group sat down, they were called to attention and given the piece of paper for them to sign stating that they had heard and agree to follow the rules of the House. They also had to put when they were expecting their next period, which startled Marinette. Thankfully, she wasn’t the only one, but she did as she was asked.

They were then given the opportunity to eat and after about 30 minutes, Victoria was calling the girls and putting them in the order that they would appear before Adrien. They would ride to the mansion in groups, then wait their turns as the limo brought each girl individually to see Adrien. The girls who had non-limo entrances (one girl was riding in on a horse) would be instructed when it would be their turn to walk (or ride) in. Otherwise, the limo drivers were in charge of the timing.

Marinette, who was stationed towards the middle, right behind Hanna and in front of a girl named Lucie, was excited and yet nervous. Tikki had to hide in her bra since no bags were allowed in the mansion the first day. Although it was kind of awkward for both of them, Marinette was happy to have Tikki so close, as it would be easier to talk to her as the night went along. And she had a feeling they would have lots to talk about.

 Soon the first set of girls were being put in their limo and driven to the mansion. In about an hour, Marinette would be face-to-face with the man of her dreams.

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

Adrien suddenly couldn’t breath and his hands were all sweaty as his limo was driven to the mansion where the girls he was going to date would be living. Mini-Natalie was in the car with him and was instructing him what would happen as they drove up.

“You will get out of the car and will be recorded. So please be aware of what you say and how you react. Chris will meet you and will chat with you about tonight, and then the first girl will appear. Chris will tell you when. Follow his lead, he knows what he is doing.”

Chris Harrison was the host for the American version and Adrien had met him a couple of times. He seemed like a nice guy, but it was weird that all this man did for a living was watch people date each other and make occasional comments. They had Alec, the normal reality show host for most of Paris’s entertainment, shadowing him, but they wanted the first season to have an experienced host so it was more of a smooth time filming. Adrien was just grateful to have someone who understood the show well enough to help guide him through this rollercoaster.

The limo pulled to a stop and Mini-Natalie, shooed him out. He stepped out and was greeted by really bright lights in front of this gorgeous mansion. It had to be at least 3 floors and had a jaw-dropping look to it. No wonder they picked this to be the location for the show.

 “Evening Adrien,” Chris greeted him at the place where the concrete turned from driveway to sidewalk. Adrien could see a camera filming him as he walked to shake Chris’ hand. “How are you feeling?”

 “I’m a little excited and nervous,” Adrien responded.

“That’s completely normal. Tonight’s going to be a lot. You’re going to meet a lot of girls. Do you believe you’ll be able to find the one through this journey?”

 “Honestly Chris I do. I’m excited to see what tonight brings and hopefully I can make a good first impression.”

 Chris laughed at that, “I believe that’s what the girls will be hoping too.” He stuck his hand out for another handshake and Adrien took it as Chris said, “Good luck tonight, the first limo is coming around the corner.”

“Thank you.” Adrien looked toward the end of the driveway and did indeed see a limo poking out.

The cameras were switched off and Mini-Natalie, who had exited the limo after the cameras had followed Adrien, began positioning him on the sidewalk. Once he was set and Mini-Natalie walked away to make sure he looked good in the cameras, Adrien took a moment to be excited. He was going to meet his lady tonight, even if he didn’t know which one she was going to be.

Once it had been decided that Adrien looked good, they motioned the first limo to approach the house. Plagg, who had been asleep in Adrien’s pocket, woke up from his nap, claiming that he didn’t want to miss anything that the girls did or said tonight. Adrien rolled his eyes at that.

“Well if you’re going to be awake then know, no comments, no matter what the girls say or do, you don’t get to say a word. We’ll have time for your commentary later,” At that, Plagg opened his mouth to protest, but was cut-off when the first limo came to a stop in front of the house and the door clicked open.

~~~

This chapter is soooo long, so sorry for the wait I was dealing with personal stuff do to the virus 

Let me know if you wanna be added to the tag list 

@momor3202 

@legendaryneckjudgestudent 

@discoveringmiraculouswriters

@adrianarfox

@veroocasanova 

[for-bucks-sake]

Low Hundreds.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes. Word count: 3.5K. Warnings: Fluff! All the fluff! And also smut. Summary: This year, Captain America will not be celebrating his birthday with America, or in America. But with his boyfriend. Far, far away. A/N: I am beyond fashionably late, but that idea started to form solidly literally two days ago. I’m so soft for vacation!Stucky. And Greece is really cool. I think the boys would appreciate its old fashioned vibe, (although I haven’t been there a good couple of tears, so I might get something wrong.) HAPPY BIRTHDAY CAP! Thank you so much for reading, hope you enjoy! Btw, requests are open! 

Gif’s not mine.

They flew out of the states yesterday. Leaving New York behind for the sake of a place that was the embodiment of peace and quiet, providing them with complete anonymity.

Waves of sand collided with real waves, cerulean blue met gold as they reached the shore, looking at the beautiful act of nature.

Bucky glanced at Steve, smiling, putting his bag down conspiratorially, “last one to get to the water is a little bitch!” He shouted, speeding up a little too fast for it to look natural, hands all but tearing his navy t-shirt off.

No one could see them there, and Bucky didn’t know if it was for the fact they were completely alone, or just the reassuring presence of Steve next to him, but for the first time in a long time, he felt safe.

“Guess you can call yourself a bitch now.” Steve had a shit eating grin on his face, making Bucky literally eat sand as he ran past him so swiftly on the soft, grainy ground, it came flying backwards. Right into Bucky’s face.

“Fuckin-“

The loud splash of a body hitting water told him the competition was over. Bucky found he didn’t care much as he watched Steve’s perfect form swimming quickly, receding from the shore on to the bottomless blue.

He too entered the welcoming ocean, skin shivering at the new sensation of cool wetness and warm breeze, chasing deeper right into the arms of a welcoming lover.

“Punk.” Bucky muttered as Steve pulled him closer, easily finding his waist through the clear waters.

“And what about it?” Steve smirked, leaning in for a kiss. He brushed Bucky’s full lips with his. Bucky tried to nudge his head closer, but before he could, Steve pushed his full weight on top of him, forcing them both to sink back into the sea.

Steve could see Bucky’s wide eyes when he realized what had happened, a determined look replaced the tenderness in them as he moved hastily, using his metal arm to work through every law of physics as he forced the water out of his way, chasing Steve yet again while the latter tried to get away as fast as possible. This time he was short handed;

Bucky caught one of Steve’s legs, jerking him back forcibly so he could grab his waist. Air didn’t seem to run out even then; calloused palms met rock hard stomach, legs working overtime to keep them afloat, bubbles that could be hot breaths surrounded them, nothing was heard but that muted silence you could only find underwater.

Steve buried his hands in Bucky’s floating hair, closing the left distance between them and connecting their mouths. He could taste the salt on his lips, water infiltrating their kiss when Steve adjusted his palm and brought it to cup the stubbled jaw. Bucky squeezed his waist softly, tongue slowly licking its way deeper into Steve’s mouth, meeting his in a stinging briny mix.

They left early, successfully avoiding any troubles that may be caused by the Forth of July rush. Steve was reluctant to agree, anxious as always for the fate of the world, only backing down after weeks of creative persuasion; if it wasn’t for the years Bucky spent perfecting a stubbornness that only matched Steve’s - they would still be in Brooklyn right now. A break was well deserved, and they accrued enough vacation days for nine lifetimes, anyway.

Bucky pushed them up in a single swift motion, lips still connected as they moved above waters like a single body instead of two, the change in scenario embracing them with a hit of a fresh breeze, sounds that only echoed through under, were now ringing pleasantly in their ears.

The subtle shift of the waves on top of each other created an impossibly calming rhythm, their strong bodies giving in to the ripples and letting the ocean guide their movements, happily complying as they drifted closer to each other.

Steve moved away and gasped for oxygen, inhaling a lungful of clear air only to sink down again, emerging a moment later a few meters away from Bucky, almost as if he couldn’t leave him alone for too long. He shook his head, letting the new acquired droplets fall from his bright hair down to his angled face, the small drops parting from his skin when they met his clean shaven chin, falling back to their source.

It was as if some divine entity decided to interfere, making Steve stop at the exact spot and the Sun to appear just behind him, lengthening its rays far enough to reach and shower his body with a yellow, afternoon light, illuminating him golden.

He looked overwhelmingly beautiful, untouchable, even.

Wet strands of his hair desperately tried to hung off his forehead, only few succeeding, lips scarlet from kissing and salt, so aesthetically pleasing over the background of his perfect skin, resembling blood stained white silk.

His cerulean eyes stared back, actively stealing all the color from the water, soaking it in to make his eyes even bluer, as if he needed that.

Bucky forgot how to breathe. And not as a cliche everybody says. He genuinely forgot how. Maybe everyone thinks they can’t breathe anymore, but he was the only one to actually witness Steve Rogers looking like that.

Steve’s lips were slightly parted, staring at him in awe, the left corner of his mouth curved into half a smile.

Bucky licked his lips and exhaled as he rediscovered the ability to breathe, flashing a toothy grin when Steve swam his way to him, closing the distance one last time and not looking away from his eyes.

His hair reached his shoulders, less dark somehow as he grew it longer. Steve couldn’t tear his gaze from the couple of skies that settled inside Bucky’s orbs, looking stunningly alike the origin above them.

And water drops on metal, he soon found out, looked exactly like stars when the sun hit them.

Steve approached the sky full of stars in front of him, getting painfully close without touching. There will be a lot of touching, later. For now, he was content with just watching.

As Bucky inhaled, Steve exhaled. They worked like a well oiled machine, doing nothing but drinking in each other’s appearance, absorbing where they were and what they did, living the proximity they were so comfortable staying in, forever.

-

Summer days were longer, but still so short. Whether they were spent by the beach, on the local market, or just in bed - everyday, the colors outside seemed to soften before they could notice;  Neon yellow surrendering its place for the sake of low oranges and pinks that in time, were slowly fading away as well, replaced by midnight blue.

In those moments Bucky didn’t miss home. He didn’t miss seeing the national flag everywhere, he didn’t miss tensing every time a loud noise would go off, he didn’t miss the stares that followed him wherever he went, he didn’t miss America.

All he wanted was to stay here, in that little piece of heaven they somehow managed to find, keep it close to their chests and never let go.

Maybe never was a big word, but so was love. -

Greece was kind to them, for sure. Peaceful as always, even on the night of the Third.

After a long day inside their private ocean they decide to walk around for a while, showing off their impressive tan lines and sun kissed cheeks.

“Let’s enjoy the last night before you turn a hundred and…something years old!” Bucky announced with honest to god enthusiasm.

They missed more birthdays than they could count, so they simply stopped counting. Age was meaningless to them and time could never catch up. They were beyond time.

Always have been, when you think about it.

They strolled around the local businesses spread around a nice area, also near a beach; there was a beautiful stand of homemade jewelry, mostly colorful beads made of wood that decorated thin threads. Near that there was an actual store full of shabby manakin torsos, dressed in all kinds of graphic t-shirts.

In a fluent Greek and a perfect accent that both surprised and didn’t surprise Steve, Bucky purchased him a cheap looking tank top with a cheerful logo on it that ironically said, “Captain Greece.”

“You are…” Steve began, nostrils flared as he smiled and shook his head,

“Spoiling my boyfriend for his birthday? You’re damn right.” Bucky nudged his shoulder and continued walking, pulling at Steve’s hand that was intertwined with his.

They walked past a boutique that was filled with fake designer bags, and about three sunglasses stands covered with SALE signs written in English before Bucky decided it’s a sophisticated scheme to make him want to buy shades he didn’t need.

He ended up buying three pairs. Immediately pairing up Steve with ones that had a plastic frame covered with the American flag.

“You realize that joke is getting old, right?” Steve snarked, adjusting his new glasses on the top of his head.

“Not nearly as old as you, pal.”

“Are you hungry? I’m starving, that thing over there smells delicious!”

“Don’t ignore my awesome bur - that actually does smell good, c’mon.”

-

Ethnic street food is amazing and cheeseburgers suck, they decided then (well, maybe they don’t suck, but they’re nothing compared to the festival of flavors their tastebuds experienced). As they were snacking on what was left of their greek dessert filled with rich cheese and sweet syrup, Bucky glanced at his watch only to realized it was nearly midnight. They had to return to the small cabin they rented before the clock hit twelve. Deep inside he knew, that hour had no real meaning, but it was a principle. He will celebrate Steve the birthday he deserves, even if it’s just the two of them. Especially when it’s just the two of them.

“C’mon old man, hurry up now, we need to get to our place as soon as possible.” Bucky hurried him, half jokingly but mostly not.

Steve licked his fingers from the sugar and butter that coated the tips, muttering a tired “yeah, yeah’, but moving faster nevertheless, matching his pace to Bucky’s.

They approach the place they grew more and more comfortable with everyday, Bucky reached for his pocket and drew out a single key, shoving it into its place and opening the door with a creak.

“Stay here, baby. I’ve got somethin’ for you.” Bucky ordered Steve to stay in the small living room space, disappearing inside the single bedroom they shared.

“Oh, so I’m baby now?” Steve cocked an eyebrow just before Bucky turned around, “seriously though, Buck, we said no presents, please! This vacation is more than enough, I swear t-“

“Hey Stevie? Shut up.” Bucky shouted from the room, the amusement evident in his voice, “you’re gonna like it. Promise.”

After low rustles and a soft thud, Bucky was near him again, hands behind his back and a face decorated with an undeniable giddiness.

They waited in silence for the hands behind the glass to collide, Bucky refusing to do anything but glare murderously at the clock, urging it to move just a bit more to the right. The enthusiasm of a child took over when it happened, it was finally midnight and the date subsequently changed. Bucky shifted his arms, bringing the neatly wrapped present from behind his back, placing it in front of Steve, who was sporting a small pout and shiny eyes when he saw its size -

Never really getting over the complex of hating to be given anything but being too excited to refuse it. It reminded Bucky of old times, when neither of them could even dream about what they had now. Birthday gifts were a luxury, something they could rarely afford, even once a year. He wanted to give Steve the world he deserved ever since he met him. Now he actually could. Out of all the things about the future, that - he will never forget.

Steve sat cross legged on the sofa, stance as straight as always, almost like he waited for permission to open the thing.

Bucky was flustered just the slightest, still standing up, now stepping near Steve and looking at him expectedly.

“Happy birthday, Stevie.” He said hoarsely, a sign of upcoming tears he tried his hardest to fight.

Steve looked up to the towering frame above him, after so many years he could recognize every single crack and hitch in Bucky’s voice.

“C’mere.” Steve grabbed the back of his thigh, pulling him over to his lap.

Bucky gladly complied, once adjusted on the comfiest sit in the world, he grabbed Steve’s face, attaching their lips.

“It’s so much.” Steve whispered, unwrapping with that neat politeness his mother thought him.

“Nothin’ is too much for you.” Bucky whispered back, squeezing Steve’s bicep reassuringly.

Steve placed the large box on Bucky’s lap, caressing his thighs with every movement he made, lingering his touch when he removed the wrapping paper from the bottom of it.

Bucky huffed but didn’t say anything, the knots inside his stomach stretching out and restraining him from speaking. Anticipation overcoming his primal instinct to tease Steve back.

Steve’s breath hitched when he opened the simple box. He could feel that lump of air stuck in the middle of his throat, unable to move up or down, shocked just as he was because he knew exactly what these were.

He stared at the leather journals for so long Bucky thought he did something wrong. And when Bucky got nervous, he started talking.

“I thought…well, I thought I should try and get them back.” He scratched the back of his head, “didn’t even read ‘em again. Didn’t want to because I was afraid I’d read something there that would make me regret givin’ them to you.”

The pain in Bucky’s voice must’ve woken up Steve from his trance. He picked the first notebook from the top of the stash. Opening a random marked page slowly, only to meet his own face looking at him back. Just like all those years ago.

“You’re probably not gonna like most of what you read in there. But there are some good memories, too. It’s mostly a mess and there are too many and I’m pretty sure there are solid three pages of me rambling about your eyes but, it’s me.” He took a deep breath, “it’s another part of me whether I like it or not. And I want you to know it.”

“Is it double sided?” Steve spoke after a long moment.

“What?”

“The pages about my eyes. Are they double sided?”

Bucky begrudgingly lost the battle against his tears. Barking in relief as his whole body started to shake. 

Steve laid down the journal to his right and wrapped his arms around the man on his lap.

“It’s okay. It’s okay. I love it. It’s the most beautiful gift I was ever given. Thank you, sweetheart. Thank you.” He held him firmly, not quite knowing what to do but to stay like they were.

“It’s not everything.” Bucky snuffled and raised his head from Steve’s neck. It wasn’t stained with tears, and somehow, it was worse, “there’s more.”

“Oh god, Buck. You really shouldn’t ha-“

“It’s at the bottom of the box.” Bucky shuffled closer, as to watch even closely Steve does open it.

He looked under the three additional journals that were inside, all completely identical, and found a cardboard box. Way smaller, and long. Like one you’d put jewelry in it.

“Buck…”

“Go ahead.”

Steve opened the cover gently, looking at another fragment from his past. Their past.

“I thought they were at the museum! How did you get them?”

“Turn it over.” Bucky smiled sadly.

“Holy shit.”

“The museum had a replica, I think. A fake. These are our real tags. And they’re yours. Oh and, open them.”

Somehow, Bucky had their dog tags connected together and the edges, what ultimately had turned them into a locket.

Steve unlocked it carefully, revealing a picture of the two of them. It was taken recently, for sure. Bucky’s hair was long like it was now, and he was smiling wide. His own face was beardless, also twisted with a smile. The breathtaking landscape of Wakanda was in display behind them, arms wrapped around each other’s waists.

“I thought, with all the things from the past, you could use something from now.”

“Does that make me your girl now, serge?” Steve smirked and closed the necklace, putting it on, the hint of tears in his eyes as well.

“I sure hope not,” Bucky grinned mischievously, hoisting himself up from Steve’s lap and kneeling between his legs, “‘cause then I wouldn’t be able to suck your dick.”

Steve swallowed, intensely watching Bucky unzipping his pants and pulling them down along with his boxers, revealing his already hardening cock. He wrapped his left hand around the base, and Steve, responsive as always, twitched at the new sensation, breath rugged as he was stroked, slowly. 

Steve eyes shot open when he felt Bucky’s tongue on his tip, joining his hand on working him wet and filthy. He groaned and leaned back, trying to get more of himself into Bucky’s mouth.

“Relax, baby. I’m gonna make you feel good.”

Steve didn’t question it for a second, relaxing his shoulders but then tensing up again as Bucky licked the side of his cock, down from his balls and up to his tip again - tracing strips of spit all over Steve’s impressive length.

“Shit, Bucky.” He moaned, hands trailing down to the brunet’s hair and weaving through it, slightly pushing him forward.

Bucky was always a tease, even today he couldn’t help it. But he got the hint, lovingly kissing Steve’s underside and fitting half of him inside his mouth.

He started to work on Steve’s cock, up and down, swirling his tongue around the sensitive skin. The wet sounds his mouth created in sync with his movements made everything feel even dirtier.

“Just like that Buck, yeah, just like that.” Steve sighed with pleasure, pushing Bucky’s head a little bit farther up. His cock hitting the back of Bucky’s throat.

Bucky hollowed his cheeks, staying completely still beside swallowing, creating the vacuum sensation he knew Steve loved, drawing salty precum from him.

Steve let a delicious, desperate sound as Bucky released the cock from his mouth with a loud pop, grazing his teeth on a particular thick, visible vain on the way out.

“Fuck, Bucky.” His moans went straight to Bucky’s own hardening cock, getting rather uncomfortable trapped inside his jeans. He gripped at Steve’s strong thigh with his right palm and massaged the inner part, composing himself.

Steve grunts were getting louder. He clutched the couch and inhaled sharply; Bucky’s mouth never seizing to work wonders on him, and he was close, he was so close.

He moved his bare foot to caress Bucky through his trousers, giving him at least some of the relief he knew he needed.

Bucky hummed on his cock, exhaling a rugged hot breath from deep inside his throat, and Steve was done for.

He came with a string of curses, a mouth as dirty as a soldier’s, shooting load after load of warm cum into Bucky’s willing mouth.

Even then he didn’t stop sucking. Still working on milking the birthday boy out of every drop and every whine he had. Only to ruin him all the same minutes later.

“My ears,” Steve breathed heavily, chuckling at Bucky’s stained beard, “are fucking ringing.”

At least it’s not from fireworks. Bucky thought.

“Oh, you think we’re done yet?” He cocked an eyebrow, shoving that thought far away and taking off his clothes quicker than Steve could blink. His shirt was off by the next second as well - leaving them both completely naked, raw.

-

“Mornin’ birthday boy.” Bucky hummed, covering every inch of his face with kisses, gradually leaving a trail of sloppy pecks down his neck, and collarbone. He was about to get even farther under the blanket before Steve stopped him.

His eyes blindingly bright, one long finger tilted his chin up.

“Am I going to get another one of your famous blowjobs?”

Bucky smirked, “oh, so they’re famous now. Why? Who told you about them?”

“I dunno. About ten, twenty guys.”

“Now that’s a relief!” Bucky let out a loud phew, “‘cause I stopped counting at the low hundreds.”

Steve shoved his shoulder, then guided him back up to capture his lips in a kiss, “you’re a jerk, you know that?”

Bucky nodded in agreement, laughing into Steve’s mouth.

[everythingmusicandfilm]

Captain Marvel Goes Higher Further Faster

The MCU has once again delivered an outstanding adventure filled film but this time, a female is leading the way. Captain Marvel is a feminist driven film filled with messages of female empowerment, refugees and some more female empowerment. The breathtaking cinematography, powerful performances, emotional story and nostalgic trip back to the 90s creates my new favourite film. The critiques and boycotts of the film however are proof of how much harder it is to be a woman in this world. Brie Larson is a warrior as Captain Marvel, as just one week after the release of the film she is already inspiring thousands of young girls all over the world to believe that they are superheroes themselves.

First of all the performances in this film are incredible. Samuel L Jackson once again shines as Nick Fury however this time we see him before he knew about aliens and superheroes AND we finally get to see what happened to his eye (love Goose). His chemistry with Brie is adorable both on and off screen and I really hope we see them together again (surely she saves him in Avengers Endgame). Jude Law and Gemma Chan play great Kree characters and I love that they cast an Asian women for this role. One of the stand out performances of the film was Lashana Lynch as Maria Rambeau. Her badass pilot abilities, her adorable relationship with her daughter and her fierce friendship with Carol makes her one of the toughest characters in the film and she brought raw emotion to the story. Brie of course was outstanding as Carol Danvers. Her witty personality, quirky facial expressions and her immensely strong power creates a powerful yet relatable superhero. She is a warrior who fights for all women as she inspires and leads the MCU into a new phase.

One of my favourite aspects of the film was the cinematography. There is a really subtle tint to the screen to create the nostalgic look of the 90s but it doesn’t look tacky or fake, it just looks amazing. Some of the shots in this film are breathtaking. My personal favourite was when the Skrulls are looking into Carol’s memories and one says “open her up”, meaning her mind, however the shot shows Carol, the air force pilot walking towards the opening doors of the air force base. I actually held my breath during that shot. The film also uses slow motion a bit but really subtly, It doesn’t look tacky or over dramatic like in some of the DC films, it just gives the audience an extra moment to appreciate what they’re seeing on the screen.

One of the surprising aspects of the story was about the Skrulls (warning spoilers ahead). In the trailer and the beginning of the film, the skrulls (green aliens with australian accents) are presented as the bad guys. They follow Carol to Earth and Carol who has been trained by the Kree believe she needs to stop them from infiltrating Earth. However when Carol listens to the black box and learns about how she crashed and got her powers and the Kree are actually the bad guys on the side of an unjust war, she opts to help the Skrulls. The Skrulls reunite with their family as Carol helps them find a home and the rest of their kind. This is a powerful message especially to America in 2019 who are being force fed ideas by the Trump administration that mexicans, islam and other non-american ethnic groups are criminals and are infiltrating the USA. Whereas the actual reality is that they are refugees just like the Skrulls and they are looking for a home. Americans often see people who don’t look like them as ‘aliens’ rather than respecting them and understanding that not everyone is a white American. This all sounds very political but the main message from this aspect of the story is to not fight unjust wars, but to end them and to respect people from other ethnic backgrounds.

The main message and most powerful one in the film is about Carol discovering her true potential and not letting anyone tell her what she cannot do. Right from the beginning of the film, Yon-Rogg is constantly telling Carol to control her power and her emotions. During the Kree’s first mission in the film, Carol says what she plans to do and he tells her no. He always keeps telling her that he wants her to be the best version of herself. Once Carol learns that the explosion, not the Kree gave her her powers and that if she takes off the controller on her neck she will unleash her full power, she stands up to anyone whoever told her what she cannot do. I love that there is also no final fight in this film. Yon-Rogg tries to start one by saying that she should fight him without using her powers but she blasts him before he can finish his sentence. This is a powerful moment as she states “I have nothing to prove to you”. The audience clearly sees the potential of carol’s power throughout the film and therefore she does not need some big final fight to prove anything. People often hold women up to extremely high expectations in order to prove they can sit at the table with men. However this film shows that audiences need to start looking at women with the same amount of expectations and respect as men. That is feminism, it is about equality.

One of the things that I really loved about this film is that Carol was not sexualised at any point during the movie. There was no revealing outfits or comments about her appearance and there was no romantic relationship. This is actually groundbreaking and very rare especially for a female led film. Some people, like Wonder Woman, find their power in their sexuality and that is an extremely valid fight for feminism so that they can focus on their appearance but not do it for men and still get the same amount of respect. However others, like Captain Marvel, don’t find their power in their sexuality and don’t want to have to dress up or wear makeup etc. Different things empower different women. However I feel like Hollywood only likes to show the former side of feminism and male audiences tend to accept female led films more when they are ‘sexy’ and this can be dangerous as it creates misconceptions about feminism in a culture where sexual violence against women is endemic. So for Captain Marvel to not wear revealing outfits, have perfect hair and makeup and not have any hints at a romantic relationship during the film is a powerful step for feminism.

The response from the white male fans of the MCU about this film prove how far we have to go in order to achieve gender equality. Some were angry that Brie said the film wasn’t for them, others claimed she was too powerful and it wasn’t realistic or that the film was too political. Others simply saw a female led film and heard it was a feminist movie and said they weren’t interested. First of all, Thor is literally a God, the Hulk is virtually indestructible and yet they never had a problem with their power? Also too political? Iron Man was about US sponsored war, Infinity War was about overpopulation and Captain America in the 1940s fought the Nazis and in the 2010s fought against government surveillance. I mean the film is literally called Captain America: Civil War but yet Captain Marvel is suddenly too political. The only difference here is that she is a woman. Some men absolutely cannot stand when even one out of 21 things is not 100% created for them. I love that Captain Marvel is a woman and it is a huge part of her power and fighting for feminism and inspiring young girls is a massive part of this film. However that does not mean it is not for men. I grew up looking up to characters such as Harry Potter, Frodo and Iron Man and Captain America. I did not have to be a boy to be inspired by them so why can’t men do the same with Captain Marvel? If men only look at Captain Marvel and see a pair of breasts then they are the main problem. I hope this incredible film continues to inspire both young girls AND boys to be superheroes and fight for gender equality just like Brie as Captain Marvel does.

[dnp-and-blankets]

Love Lessons

TW: Abuse mention, Suicide mention, Abandoned, if theres any more pls let me know

3,441 words

Soulmate AU where you don’t realise who your soulmate is until they leave, and then you cry whenever they cry OR Phil is a sunflower happy new kid with a fascination for soulmates, Dan is an angsty, angry, artist who hate soulmates with a passion, ft Patrick Stump 

 "We can't take him" "Why not" "You can barely look after yourself, and are you forgetting we already have a child?" "He has no one!" "Chloe I swear to fuck" "You'd want Daniel to have somewhere to stay wouldn't you?" "It's not my fault the boy wasn't wanted!" "Would you want Daniel to be treated like this?" "He never will be in foster care" "What if something happens to us?" "My sister's ex bought us that house remember? Already furnished, for when Daniel wants to live on his own." "Philip never had that" I don't know what's going on. All I know is that Chloe equals food. And I really wants food. "He's only 4 years old!" "Pwease can I has some toast?" "Philip go to your room." "Chloe, you're not fit enough for this" "Miss Chloe, I'm really hungry" "Philip!" I go upstairs sniffling, and catch a glimpse of a little boy my age. He growls at me and throws a fox teddy. I pick the teddy up and name him Thomas.

                                                          ~*~

                  I'm very excited today. Today I start at a college that teaches soulmate lessons weekly. Today I start at a college in the town I'll hopefully spend more than a few weeks in. Today, I can finally start figuring out who my soulmate is.  I take a deep breath and look in the mirror. My quiff is being pressed down ever so slightly by a sunflower flower crown. My glasses hang lazily off my nose. I smile brightly at myself and glance at my outfit one more time- a yellow shirt, with the sleeves rolled up halfway up my arms, black jeans, odd socks, white trainers, and a light blue denim jacket- and went through my bedroom door. "Good luck at school Philip!" Stephanie's chirpy voice sang as I walked passed the kitchen. Me and Stephanie moved here to celebrate her second year of adopting me, and we decided homeschool just wasn't going to cut it anymore. I thanked her, grabbed my lunch money, college I.D, shoved Thomas into my pocket, and begun the walk to school. I kick leaves as I walk, and talk to birds that fly passed me. "Bords," I mutter under my breath as a flock flies over my head. I hear a snort behind me and turn to see someone with glasses similar to mine, and strawberry blonde hair. "Not typical behaviour for 17 year olds but carry on." He had an american accent. I was mesmerised, and he seemed to notice this, "I'm a transfer from Chicago, my 'rents moved here a couple months ago, but I'm just starting college now."

"I moved here last week." He smiled at this and hurried to walk the same pace as me. He was much shorter than me. "I'm Phil!"

"Patrick!" another voice yelled. It was an ever so slightly tanned boy, with brown hair that curls, and deep brown eyes surrounded in quite a bit of smudged eyeliner. He definitely slept in his makeup last night, and just reapplied this morning. "Big mood." He twirls to face me and sneers, "What?"

"Sorry, I was just-"

"This is Dan. He's angry. At everything, always. Don't take it personally," Patrick laughs, "want to walk with us?"

            We step into college laughing and wheezing, Dan had been talking about how useless giraffes were, and it was so surreal to see someone harbour so much rage for an animal they've never even seen. "I have English resit lessons first, what about you guys?" Patrick asks. "Love lessons," Dan rolls his eyes, the words laced with hatred, "yay." "Same!" I smile and follow him to the classroom. We stand outside the classroom door and he looks me up and down. I blush ever so slightly, feeling a bit too exposed for some reason. He nods to himself gently and then makes eye contact. "What are you taking?" "Soulmate Theory and Art," I declare, happy that I have a chance to show my enthusiasm, "what about yourself?" "Acting, and Art," he forces the words, seemingly biting his tongue, "why on Earth would you take Soulmate Theory? We're all literally forced to learn the basics once a week, why would you want to dedicate a years worth of college just to get a level 2 BTEC in something fake?" I ignore the fact that he just said soulmates were fake, and decide instead to question him on his logic, "You literally take acting," he smiles at this and we enter the classroom as the tutor greets us.

        "Good Morning everyone! We have a new student joining us today, would you like to like to introduce yourself?" The tutor had wavy blonde hair, and looking at her I.D, her name was Sharon. She seems very perky. "I'm Phil." Is all I manage to say before I notice Dan pulling stupid faces at me and I snort, breaking into laughter. Sharon looks at me in confusion and just lets me sit down. "Today we'll be touching on how much you need to know your soulmate before it counts when they leave," She says, writing a big question mark on the whiteboard, "and the answer is, to put it simply, not at all! They just need to enter your life, be it an accidental brush of the foot, they cough and it catches your attention, or even someone yells their name and you notice." "Sounds like this bullshit theory is grasping for straws. How many people actually find their soulmates after they've suposedly been crying for years?" I look up in shock at Dan's language towards a tutor. Sharon glares at him before answering, "It's not a large statistic, but sometimes people get lucky, and they witness someone crying at the same time as them multiple times, and then-" "Is there actual proof for this?" "Well, of course there's not lots, but we do know that people who never cry have reported crying just as their wife starts crying, and-" "This is such bullshit!" He yells, standing up and kicking his chair for dramatic effect. "As if you idiots teach a mandatory class on something you can't actually prove," the boy mutters before storming out.

       I sit down in my art class, still not fully over Dan's outburst from over an hour ago. He never returned to the classroom, and I didn't have much hope of seeing him in my art class either. "Phil?" The art tutor had sat himself next to me for some reason. My eyes flickered to his I.D, which said, "Mx Quinn" which confused me to an unknown extent. "I'm non-binary," they explained without missing a beat. They hand me a tissue and I take it slowly. I aimed to say, "What's this for?" but it came out in a sorrowful sob, and I realise with a shock that my soulmate must be crying somewhere. "I don't even know his name" I say sadly. Quinn's eyebrow raises but they seem to accept my queerness pretty quickly, not even questioning it. "When did you meet him?" "Steph says my social worker told her that I've been crying randomly since I was put into foster care, so it must have been pretty early on. And trust me when I say I've been in a lot of different foster homes, so I have no idea how to even begin tracking him down." "My soulmate is my wife, but she wasn't my wife until last year, so I wouldn't give up hope just yet" They pat my shoulder before turning and walking to their whiteboard. "Students!" They say with a clap. "Quinn!" A chorus of students clap in response.

     "Now that first term is over, and we've finished our Christmas break, I've decided to actually assign you work, instead of letting your imaginations run free. But don't worry, I won't be telling you what to draw, just hopefully giving you some inspiring prompts." The door swings open and Dan walks in, looking angry as per usual. He sits down next to me. "Today’s prompt, is Beauty, take it as you wish." Quinn claps once more and everyone begins moving. I take out my sketch book and my pencil, and start drawing a circle. I cover the remainder of the page in easy-to-remove sellotape, and then get my water paints out. Dark navys mix with  deep purples, and they both mix with magentas, and then are left to dry. Whilst waiting for it to dry, I remove the tape, and then look over at Dan's page. He's using white chalk on black paper. He's drawn the lines of multiple people, with one person in particular being coloured in white, whilst the rest are left uncoloured. This person is now being shaded around, to give them the appearance of glowing. "Is that your soulmate?" "No, they're even better" "Why?" "Because they exist" I raise my eyebrows at him, but don't question it. "Who is it?" "Does it matter?" "No, but-" "Then drop it."

         At the end of the class I have fully painted a little circle of galaxy, that's surrounded by vines and flowers and various other plants. "Plants killing the universe? Irony is beauty to you?" Quinn was stood over my desk "Nope," I smile, "I just really like plants and space!" "Stop," Dan chimes in, "we get it, you're a soft person." He sounds angry but he's smiling as he says it. I pack up my bags and leave the classroom. Why is he so angry all the time? I think about what could be upsetting him when Patrick grabs my arm. "Soulmate Thoery right?" I nod and we begin walking to class together.

                                                          ~*~

"Phil, stop crying, please" Kat begs, "David will be home soon. You mustn't be crying so much on your first day here." I sob in response. I'm not even sad. I don't know why I'm crying so much. "You don't want to end up back in the orphanage do you?" "I'm not sad," I plead, tears still streaming down my face, "I'm very happy I'm here!" "Then stop crying before David arrives." The front door swings open just as she says this, and a tall, dark eyed man enters the room. "Why does he cry?" He has a Russian accent. "Why does the small one cry? What happens to 9 year old that make them cry so much?" He seems to be getting angrier and angrier. "Phil please stop" Kat begs me. David raises his hand and yells, "Why do you cry?" "I don't know sir" "Bullshit!" He bellows, his hand coming down rapidly. I don't stop crying for a week. They send me back to the orphanage after two days. The crying doesn't stop. I go about my life, eating, playing games, reading, but for a week straight, my body is wracked with sobs.                                                               

                                                          ~*~

             I was 4 years old when I found myself in my first foster home. They kept me for two weeks, and then I was moved to a different home, because the mum was getting sad, or somet, and she could only handle one child, so naturally she kept her own, and not the foster kid. According to my social worker, I've been crying randomly ever since leaving the orphanage in that town. So that's the first place I decide to check. Soulmate Theory is a class dedicated to finding logic in soulmates, and the only reason I decided to take it is because it will provide resources for me to locate my own soulmate. "So, what do you think she will look like?" Patrick asks, hyped for me, as he already found his soulmate, sadly it was after he had moved to the UK, and Pete was still in Chicago. "Well, I hope he has curly hair, because curls are the cutest, and maybe he'll have glasses like me? I want him to have darker eyes than me, so maybe green," I pause for a second in thought, "Brown would be nice too" "tanned?" "kind of? I don't expect them to always be tanned but it'll be nice to have someone who can tan, unlike me." "what colour hair" "I'm naturally ginger, so not ginger or black, maybe blonde, or brown" "brown eyes, brown curly hair, can tan?" "Yeh?" "You mean, Dan Howell?" I choke and look away from my computer screen, eyes wide and aimed directly at Patrick. "No"

         I open a new tab and search for the orphanage I was sent to after my first foster home. I type in the year I was sent there. Patrick notices the town's name and asks if I'm for real. "Yes, why?" "That's Dan's home town," He winks, "Maybe he is your soulmate" "Dan could be my soulmate? Should I tell him?" "No, he doesn't believe in soulmates." "That's good, because I don't think I could spend the rest of my life with someone so negative." Patrick snorts and continues tapping away on his phone. I write down a list of people that were in the orphanage at the same time as me, and make a checklist. I'll message a different one every time I cry. I start stalking each of them online. Stephen, Karla, Bridge, Lucy- Bridge? "Trick, is Bridge a boy or a girl name?" "It's architecture" "It's someone on the list" "Just message them and see." Tears begin falling down my face. "Hey I didn't mean it like that, I'm sorry-" "This isn't me!" I smile widely and message someone called Chris, I read the message out loud as I type it, "Hey, I have reason to believe that you're my soulmate, are you crying right now?" They mustn't have any privacy settings on, because the response I receive is immediate, "nope, I'm not crying, and I got my soulmate pregnant last month, so unless this is Keighleigh messing with me, you're not my soulmate," I read it out to Patrick. "Who spells Kaylee like that?" "I know, it's supposed to be K a y l e i g h" "Incorrect" "We'll ask Dan on the walk home?" "Absolutely."

          I message four other people, but none of them are my soulmate. I finally stop crying around ten minutes before the tutor dismisses us, and I feel strange. This time it didn't feel full of emotion. It felt empty. "Hi nerds" "You look like a mess," Patrick chirps. And he's right. Dan's face is paler than usual, and his hair is messy. "No duh, I just did the final scene of the drama I've been writing, the scene where my dog dies and I scream and cry in the rain. Someone's been dumping water on me as I've forced tears, I'm obviously not gonna be looking glamorous." "You've been crying? That's so weird, because-" I glare at Patrick and he stops talking. "Phil's soulmate search hasn't been going too well" "That's cause she doesn't exist." "He," Patrick corrects him, and Dan's eyes widen a little bit. We start walking home and me and Patrick exchange worried glances at each other. "Dan, you never talk about your childhood" "What's there to talk about? My mum's gone, as is my dad, and I've been living on my own since I was 15" "What happened to your parents?" "Phil," Patrick warned me, clearly Dan doesn't talk about this very often. I apologise and we carry on walking. Patrick turns a corner and waves goodbye. Steph apparently lives pretty close to Dan. "Come over?" Dan asks. I smile and nod, maybe a little too eagerly.

                                                               ~*~

         "He's been crying since he was 4 years old, are you prepared to take on this child who has in fact lost contact with their, seemingly very emotional, soulmate?" "Of course. He needs stability. I've always been a fan of stability." I start crying. "Sweetie, I know you don't believe me, but-" "It's not me," I sniffle. She wraps her arms around me in a hug. "He needs someone who has dealt with soulmates." "As you wish. Although, He's 15, and met his soulmate over 10 years ago, so instead of helping him find her, I suggest you book him into a support group for lost soulmates" "I'll do as I please with my child." "Foster child" "Only for a few months. And then he's my child" "Whatever. Sign here." "Go and adventure, Philip, your room is top left." I hear muffled conversation as I close the front door. I finally have a forever home. Someone finally wants me. I could cry, but as per usual, I don't. I never cry. My soulmate cries enough without my tears adding to it. I've been bottling it up for years now. Instead, I smile. I wipe my mirroring tears and try desperately to let him know I care about him. But soulmates don't work like that.

                                                             ~*~

        "You live here?" My jaw drops, "It's awesome!" "My aunt's gave it to me when I was little. I didn't need to use it until a couple of years ago though." "why not?" "Because soulmates aren't real" He says with a shrug. "Who did you draw today?" "You" I splutter, "Me? Why?" "Isn't it obvious? You're beautiful Phil" "But- I mean, thank you- but you don't- soulmates- and-" "Just because love isn't real doesn't mean beauty isn't" My mouth forms an 'O' and that's all I manage to respond. "Why don't you like soulmates?" "Because they ruin people's lives" "Elaborate?" "When I was little, my mum would never shut up about soulmates, she would even tell the little kids we'd foster occasionally" I shot him a quizzical look,  "My mum was bipolar, so she'd foster whilst my dad was at work, and they'd get sent back as soon as my dad would come home. She obsessed over it ever since we tried to foster someone when I was little and my dad had decided it wasn't best for mum's health. Anyways, my mum was obsessed with soulmates. It's all she'd ever talk about, it's all she'd ever research, for days on end. But she killed herself when I was nine. And dad didn't get that warm feeling my mum always spoke about when you lost your soulmate. He didn't love her once he found out that they weren't soulmates. He didn't love me once he realised I was a mistake "He started hitting me, ranting about how he wasted his life with the wrong person. But he had loved her when she was alive, so clearly his love was false, because of the bullshit soulmate theory. My dad killed himself when I was 14, and I spent around 6 months in foster care before my Aunt Stephy contacted me and reminded me of the house she bought me when I was 4. So many people waste their lives looking for soulmates and 'true love' that they don't even look twice at anyone until they're crying. It's fucked up. And plus, I've never cried without meaning it. Ever. Everyone my age has met their soulmate by now. So what? Mine just doesn't exist? Mine doesn't have emotions?" He laughs pitifully.

            "Or maybe they just love you enough to hold back their tears." "What kind of bullshit excuse is that?" "Love isn't just somet you see on TV, Dan" "Yes it is," He yells, suddenly stood up and bearing his teeth, "Soulmates aren't real, relationships aren't real, none of it is fucking real!" "Dan-" "Get out of my house" "Dan, no, please just-" "I said get the fuck out!" "But," I whisper softly. "But what?" "I think you're my soulmate" And for the first time in over 13 years, I start crying, because of my emotions. As I look up, so is Dan. His face is of pure shock, and he doesn't seem to be properly crying, his tears are instead mirroring mine. My hand in my pocket squeezes Thomas ever so slightly. "What's in your pocket?" He tries to say, choking on my sobs, wiping his eyes furiously. I pull the stuffed fox out of my pocket and this time it's Dan's jaw that Drops. "It was you?" "Wait- you were-" "I knew I remembered those eyes" "Wait" "Philip!" "Daniel?" He launches himself at me and captures my lips in a kiss.

        Dan doesn't get over his fears of soulmates immediately. But he starts paying attention in Love Lessons, he starts asking more serious questions, he runs to me whenever he starts second guessing himself, he paints me in art, and most importantly, he doesn't cry as much anymore. I love Dan, I always have, and although he may not ever love me 100%, I know he'll always be with me.

[thesffcorner]

S.T.A.G.S.

S.T.A.G.S. is a YA thriller written by M A Bennet. It follows Greer, a girl who is a new student at St. Aidan the Great School, or STAGS, a private, Catholic school in Northumberland England. She gets invited to a weekend of “huntin’, shootin’, and fishin’” by the Medievals, the group of 6 most popular students in the school, who practically rule the student body, along with two other students. However, as soon as Greer gets to Longcross, the estate where she’s to spend the weekend, she realizes something is amiss, and she might be in more danger than she ever thought possible. S.T.A.G.S. is a book that is so full of film and pop culture references, that I feel it’s only fitting I myself start with one; this book is basically the Riot Club, except our lead is a girl. If you’ve read the play or watched the film adaptation then you know exactly what kind of story you’re in for, and if you liked either, than you will definitely like this. Let’s start with the setting; I don’t read a lot of books by English authors, and it was honestly refreshing to read this one, because England as a country is both much closer to what I’m used to, being from Europe, while also being entirely different. I didn’t care too much about the meticulous descriptions of the estate and the school, however, what I liked was that this books avoids my pet peeve of having these descriptions being meaningless. This is told in first person, and the way Greer tells the story, is like a diary entry that she’s writing after all the events have already happened. As such, she’s able to give little hints and comments on everything she sees and experiences, like what things remind her off, or why she thought they were relevant to mention. She also makes a lot of remarks on things I don’t often read in these types of books, the main one being money and status. I really, really liked this aspect of the book. Bennet talks a lot about accents, dialects and pronunciation, and how that determines not just what part of the country you come from, but also your social and economic status. Greer is from Manchester, and as such she has a pretty thick accent, that immediately marks her as an outsider in the posh world of high class British society. There are parts of the novel where Bennet writes out phonetically what words sound like, and how their pronunciation is very different depending on who’s speaking. When the Medievals talk, they add r’s in words that don’t have them, and they clip their words so that they never say the full thing. When Nel, another character who is as rich, but she is new money talks, the way she pronounces the word ‘love’ nets her the receiving end of bullying because of her not truly being posh. This discussion of class becomes even more complicated when we take into account religion, race and new vs old money. Nel, who is richer than probably even the Medievals is still shunned and bullied, because she got the money recently, and as such has no class or social standing. The Medievals all come from incredibly rich, well connected old families; their leader Henry has had the land since the 11th century, because of an ancestor who fought in the crusades. Likewise, another character, Shafeen, whose father is a literal Indian Prince, and his family has been royalty, rich and high class for much longer than any of the Medievals’ families is rejected and bullied because of his skin color, and the fact that he’s Indian. This dissection of class, race, economic status and language was so fascinating to me because I never see it explored like this in YA; it’s also a nice refresher for American readers that racism and classism though by no means gone in Europe, operate differently than they do in the US. Another thing about the setting that I really enjoyed was the discussion about what class and rich actually means. Like I said, Nel is rich, but all her clothes are brand new, and everything she does and wears seems to be a little bit off. Though she imitates the mannerisms and even the speaking style of the Medievals almost perfectly, the fact that everything on her is brand new is what gives her away as a poser. There are scenes where Greer walks around the manner and notes how despite everything being incredibly opulent it’s also falling apart; the clothes are old and have been worn, the walls have gold decals that are peeling, the house itself is old. I was reminded constantly of a comment a friend of my family made about how people in England live in houses that barely have modern plumbing just because they are old and ‘traditional’, and refuse or in many cases can’t integrate modern technology to make life easier and more pleasant. Speaking of technology, that’s another topic that’s greatly discussed in this book. I found this was explored less well, and I thought it was a bit on the nose, mostly because it intersects heavily with the reason everyone is going to Lockwood in the first place, so I can’t discuss it without spoilers. I did like that technology wasn’t vilanized and even ended up helping at the end. You might be wondering why I gave this book only 3 stars if nothing I said so far was negative. That mostly comes down to the plot and the ending. I feel like the plot was fairly predictable. Partly because the story is told in flashback and partly because it’s very easy to guess where things are going, I never really felt true tension in the scenes that were meant to be tense. I was worried about the characters sure, but I knew more or less exactly how things would pan out, and I guessed fairly easily who would be the one to die. Even the very final twist I saw coming from a mile away, and since the book has an open ending, I’m not really sure how to feel about it. If there’s ever a sequel maybe it would make more sense, but as is, it feels like the book came to a natural conclusion, and then had a last minute Bloomhouse style twist thrown at the very end that deflates a lot of what made it good up until that point. There were also some issues with the characters. Let’s start with the Medievals. There are 6 of them: 3 girls and 3 boys. I had a lot of trouble telling any of them apart, mostly because they are meant to resemble and act like each other, but also because outside of Henry, Greer has very little interaction with any of them. Bennett tries to distinguish the 3 blonde Medieval girls from one another: Charlotte is the preppiest one, who is the most fake enthusiastic and ‘speaks in italics’. Esme is the fake polite one, who pretends to be friendly, and Lara is the Russian one with the lazy, condescending accent. However, since the interaction between Greer and them is so minimal, I ended up only really distinguishing Lara, because she’s Henry’s girlfriend and Russian. However, the girls have nothing on Henry’s buddies, Cockson and Piers. I couldn't tell u anything about them or who’s who. All I know is that Cockson is also named Henry, but they both like drinking, they are both supremely loud and rude, and they are both indistinguishably awful. This is intentional, but like with the girls, it didn’t really make them compelling characters. Henry fares better in that he’s the only one that has any personality. Unfortunately, he suffers from this thing called informed traits, and this other thing, which doesn’t have a name, but I like to call it Ludonarrative Dissonance, but for books. We are told multiple times, by both Greer and other characters like Nel, that Henry is supremely charming. He knows the right thing to say, he knows how to touch people, how to smile, and in general how to woo everyone into following his orders. The problem was, that I never found him charming or funny, and I never thought any of the points he made were reasonable or smart. Maybe I’m just old and have been trained by the internet to never trust anyone who talks about the ‘natural order of things’ or about how ‘hunting helps cull the undesirable, lesser species’, but no one who says that is a nice or charming person. His whole diatribe about technology was likewise, like listening to an old man yell at a could. There are many valid points against how technology rules people’s lives these days, but having less time for hunting, is really not one of them. There was no real scene where I understood why Greer liked him, other than him being hot and calling her beautiful. I can’t really decide if this is a flaw with Henry as a character (since Greer is pretty dumb and naive), but the fact that I didn’t buy any of the characters traits he was meant to have doesn’t say good things. Even General Zaroff, who is character Henry is so clearly based on, was so much more charming and gallant, and had interesting things to say, even if you knew he was mad the whole time. That’s what I expected; what I got was a bad Lost villain. The lead characters fared much better. First we have Chanel or Nel. I actually liked her fine; she’s rich and incredibly insecure in her place in the world, since she grew up middle class and is forced to quickly adapt and assimilate in a world that is notoriously isolated, hostile and judgmental. She has lots of flaws; she’s superficial, she’s cowardly and she’s easily seduced, but I liked that she overcame a lot of them, and I enjoyed her friendship with Greer. Shafeen was my absolute favorite character. I don’t often read about Indian characters, and I’m not entirely sure how accurate his characterization was in this, but what we get I liked a lot. He was smart, he was opinionated and unlike Henry, he was actually charming. When he compliments Nel or Greer I believed it, and I could imagine him saying it and it sounding enticing. He wasn’t perfect either; he says some nasty things to Greer, and he also holds some ‘problematic’ views on hunting and this world of high class, which is understandable seeing as he’s royalty. Greer was interesting. I can’t say I liked her, but she wasn’t a bad character. She has this tendency to compare everything to films, which I also do, and as such I know first hand how grating it can be. I appreciated that her repertoire was pretty broad, spanning classics, French films, blockbusters and romantic comedies, and the ending bit that involved Sherlock Holmes: A Game of Shadows was surprisingly fitting, and actually made sense with the plot of the book. However, Greer was also probably the most dumb and naive character I’ve read from in a while. I don’t mean that as in she’s badly written, I think she’s supposed to be kind of dumb. There were so many points where she lets herself be manipulated by Henry purely because it’s the easier option, and it was grating to read about. I’m not saying I want the character to be a genius, but again, maybe I’m just too old to believe the things she does even for a second. The other issue I had with Greer was that she seemed to not really have her priorities straight. This is hard to discuss without spoilers, but let’s just say, considering what she finds out about Henry, and what nearly happens to her while at the mansion, the guilt that she carries feel ill-placed. Nel even calls her out on her behavior, which makes me think it was intentional, but we never truly have a moment to acknowledge that what the Medievals are doing wasn’t just misguided and accidentally, but sociopathic, not to mention racist and classist. Overall I liked this book quite a lot. I think it was well written, explored some really interesting topics, and had a fast paced, engaging plot. I am confident that I would like anything else Bennet writes, and that with perhaps a slightly different plot, her work could be some of my favorite. As is, I do recommend this thriller, only if you manage your expectation, and have more patience for tomfoolery than me

goodreads

[iampikachuhearmeroar]

2011-2014 australian tumblr throwback post:

- KISS ME KATUT! RHONDA AND KATUT BEING THE MOST FOLLOWED AD COUPLE FOR FUCKING CAR INSURANCE. YOU’RE HOT! LIKE A SUNRISE! RHONDA!!!!

•*french accent* budget... budget.. *aussie accent* budget love, budget direct insurance!” and people trying to figure out that weird “relationship” between the “french” woman and the “aussie” guy in that ad

•the iconic “dad why did they build the Great Wall of china?” “to keep the rabbits out. because there’s too many rabbits, in China.” for telstra broadband internet.

•gifs of every Chris Lilley character ever.... but mostly jonah takaluah and j’amie king.

• gif compilation posts of every dumb thing that Today show host Karl Stefanovic said or did on live tv. also some videos, like that shark report one and the “big stick thing” conversation where Karl and the newsreader stand in guy Ben Fordham (I think) had to walk off set bc they couldnt stop laughing. also that gifset of Karl chasing seagulls at like the SCG or something and his co-hosts Lisa and Richard (the celeb gossip guy) were like “he’s chasing his dreams down there, isn’t he lisa?” “no richard, he’s just chasing the gulls 🤦🏻‍♀️🙄” (Karl is finally leaving the today show as of 2019.)

•oh, gifs of the today show’s weather man Stevie Jacobs always getting attacked by animals on set. poor guy had to quit (or at least I think he did)

•Steve Irwin gifs- especially the gifset where he’s bitten by a snake and goes on like nothing’s happened.

•dangerous aussie wildlife posts/masterposts

•thewisepickle and haaave-you-met-ted were the premium Australian humour blogs

•also tumblr users pizza and australiansanta

•obvs night blogging being blamed on aussies

• Australian tumblr post collections done in parts

•that south Australia vine with a dude with an akubra (aussie hat) on, dancing drunkenly in front of a huge sign saying “welcome to south Australia”

• Australians ominously adding “HAVE YOU EVER, EVER FELT LIKE THIS? HOW STRANGE THINGS HAPPEN WHILE GOING ROUND THE TWIST?” to random posts

•the whole of tumblr (bar aussies) who were freaked out about our weird kids shows like “round the twist” having an ep where a dude fell in love with a tree (weird enchanted tree episode) and another ep where one of the kids had a fish dick that helped him win swimming carnivals or whatever

•Australian being mortified about no one in the world apparently knowing what fairy bread was/is

•the various political leadership spills we’ve had over the last few years.

•that “if Harry Potter was set in Australia“ post

•those 10,001 different posts having to explain aussie slang. people writing big passages in Australian slang and people being like “are... are you sure that’s in English?????” and there’s a gif from finding nemo with dory and marlon holding each other

•oh yeah: “fish are friends, not food.” and the like catchphrases. possibly memes from “the castle” or posts about being forced to watch it during English or legal studies in years 10 to 12, along with Muriel’s wedding.

•speaking of school, HSC & ATAR memes from kids who did hsc and received atars in the timeframe covered in this post

•the world being mortified that aussies called McDonald’s “Maccas” and the like 40th anniversary ad of maccas being in Australia having to be explained bc no one understood what it meant bc they used words like “ambo”, “Ute” and idk the name “Damo”

•OI CIGGY BUTT BRAIN! and it’s related video

•anons asking aussie blogs what “bogan” meant

•aussie capital city aussies vs other countries pronunciations posts

•that totally notorious and untrue “we’re only here to fuck spiders” post. I’m aussie LITERALLY NO ONE SAYS THAT! THAT WAS A FAKE POST!

•Australian weather posts- like that one day where some places got up to 50 degrees centigrade and some presumably American blogs told us to calm down until they realised that 50C is equivalent to like 128F or whatever. and then the Americans were like “how the FUCK aren’t you burning alive, my dudes?” and the aussies were all like “sheer persistence, mate.”

•that “australians don’t fuck.... they MATE” post

•actually that post about australians being prisoners bc they were convicts or what-the-fuck-ever it was and then a gif of Sheldon from Big Bang theory saying “it’s funny bc it’s true.”

•gifs/screenshots etc of the original Kath&Kim. especially the “baby JESUS kim! NOT BABY CHEESES! 🤦🏻‍♀️” scene. another main one was Sharon going to the freezer for a billabong and kim saying “none left” and Sharon saying “nothing goes right! 😭”

•people screenshotting random australian police department posts bc they’re funny and meme related. then posting them on here. (this still happens)

•idk probably some other weird/clever Australian tv ads are thrown in the mix somewhere aside from Rhonda & katut, the budget direct ad and the Telstra ad mentioned at the start of this post.

•that gifset of Hugh Jackman at a red carpet event where he accidentally stumbles into one of his old PE students who was a cameraman at the event.

•aussies randomly running into either of the famous Hemsworth brothers in Queensland on their off time with family and people being like “do y’all just find the Hemsworth’s out in the wild????”

•speaking of the Hemsworths: that post that reminds everyone that action man Chris “I’m Thor of asgard and the avengers!” hemsworth starred in saddle club, a tween show about the bitchy world of equestrian club girls. 😂 ~HELLO WORLD THIS IS ME!!!~

•aussie men being like the hemsworths or Hugh Jackman or steve irwin... and apparently being super attractive and funny. nope.

•Margot Robbie appreciation after the wolf of Wall Street. cate blanchett getting some mentions, probably. there’s probably some posts floating around about how either of them started on either of the prime-time soapies of the 90s & 2000s: neighbours (I think that’s Margot) or home&away and now they’re bad ass women in Hollywood kickin ass and taking names. I can’t remember though.

•DROP BEARS/KOALAS!!!! HOW THE FUCK COULD I FORGET DROP BEARS/KOALAS!!!!????

•also that audio post that had the sound of kookaburra call and every tumblr user that wasn’t aussie was terrified and the aussie’s were like “ah, just like home. it’s not that bad”

•when tumblr and/or buzzfeed found out about the quokka

•people being surprised that aussie public schools had school uniforms. (probably idk) 🤷🏻‍♀️

okay idk what else... feel free to add more!

[astoldbykennedy]

Kennedy: Yo yo yooo! Whats up? Its your girl Kennedy and I'm back with another episode of Ken Knows Best. Today we have some beautiful young women and a very handsome young man in the stu to chop it up and just talk. I got inspired for this episode by some things I saw on Twitter, but we'll get to that in a minute. For now I want everyone to introduce themselves, drop your Twitter handle and let me and the world know what you identify as for sexual orientation. If its nothing and you don’t like labels then let me knowww that! We're accepting of everyone over here.

Ozzy: [he smiles as she speaks before finally leaning into the microphone to speak in a slightly deep baritone voice, his Netherlands accent apparent in his tone of voice] Awesome! Hello everyone, I am Ozzy, Ozzyis on Twitter and all other social media platforms. I’m straight, and I’m absolutely glad to be here with you all! I can’t wait to get into this great discussion with these beautiful and brilliant ladies.

Randy: [looking at him before leaning into her mic] Well my shit isn't going to be great I'm Randy my twitter is damnrandy with no vowels. I'm from Houston with my regular ass American accent.

Jocelyn: [listens to their intros and smiles brightly adjusting the mic she leans close] hey, hey world, twitter, facebook and Instagram wherever you may be. I'm Jocelyn you can catch me at jlceyn. I'm straight love the fellas [chuckles] I can't wait to discuss the topic with these lovely people.

Monse: [listens to kennedy as she speaks as well as the others before she introduces herself] this is great! heyy everyone i'm monse, mobetterbluez on instagram and monsay on twitter. i identify as being bisexual and i'm pretty happy to be in tune with this discussion.

Scorpio: [chuckled while leaning into the mic] hey love i'm scorpio. aka ms levy if you're nasty. [smirked] scorpio and scorpio wins is where you can find me on all forms of social media. i'm straight all the way and i'm from college park maryland. and this is something new for me so i'm really looking forward to this.

Riley: [smiles and gives a thumbs up to everyone as they finish their intros] Hey world, it’s the kid Riley, at rileyrose on Twitter. I identify with vibes, and they don’t have a label for that yet so, call me what you will, that doesn’t mean I’m gonna answer. But I can’t wait to get into this, with all these beautiful people. 

Randy: Wait, was i supposed to state my sexuality? Because if so...I'm a lover.

Majesty: [looks around at everyone, listening attentively before she begins to speak] hello everyone! I’m Majesty Mailo, bowdown2maj on Twitter and I’m bisexual [chuckles softly] and I think that’s it, I’m ready to get into this little discussion piece.

Danica: [listens to everyone introduce themselves with a smile before she moves closer to the mic, her voice soft as she laughed a bit] Well hi everyone. My name is Danica, but everyone calls me Dani. You can find me at ohdanigxrl on twitter, and Instagram as well as snapchat. Currently...I'm just sort of floating as far as the sexuality spectrum goes, but I do know I like men. I'm really ready for tonight.

Kennedy: You all are making me proud right now speaking all confident and what not. [chuckles softly] I'm glad we have a bit of diversity in here to get all the different views. I'm bisexual..if you didn't know, but I'm kind of moving out of wanting to be labeled. Its all a bunch of bullshit if I'm being honest. So anywho. I was scrolling on Twitter the other day and I saw that this girl apparently labeled herself as lesbian and is now dating a male. At first I got kind of offended and I can't even tell you why honestly because I don't know why. I mean she’s living her life right? But then I saw the negativity that came with it and maybe she doesn't know it yet or hasn't labeled herself as it yet, but people started talking about being bi. It wasn't my first time seeing something like this because people have negatively said stuff to me too about being a fake lesbian or whatever, but I just wanted to take a moment to let the bi people that are here advocate for what the fuck's going on in our community and for the others.. why do you feel like society erases being bisexual as a thing?

Ozzy: I saw that too, and it kind of made me upset because it’s literally no one’s business what you do, or what you don’t do sexually. Imagine if there were never any labels to begin with. She would’ve never been looked down upon. If people were never labeled as anything, there would be no room for people who think it’s okay to tell what’s the right way to do something. If we want that to end, we have to get rid of social norms.

Monse: i saw that too and i couldn't say that it made me upset but i was slightly confused at first. at same time though everybody realizes things at a different time in life. i personally feel as though society erases bisexuality because they don't believe or try to believe that people can actually like both genders. they think you're suppose to like one or the either and it confuses them. i have a guy but that doesn't take away from my sexuality because regardless of who i'll end up with in the long run i'll still have feelings and be attracted to either sex if i was to end up single. i think once people open their minds and realize what being bisexual actually is they would probably understand it more.

Randy: Well I don't label myself as Bisexual....I just say I'm a lover so I'm still going to speak on it. But that's like if a girl labels herself as straight but ends up with a woman, whats to say she's not in love with that woman? We're all humans and we change, we grow. We live where people say you can't have your cake and eat it too, well its my cake. You know? Most problem it seems that people have with closing off bisexuality is that oh I'm a girl and you're going to cheat on me with a guy and leave me or vice versa when if she was just lesbian who's to say she won't cheat on you with a another female and leave? I feel like it's an excuse to try and bash the other sex and force you to conform into a certain type and its shit.

Scorpio: when i saw the post i kinda just brushed it off only because that's her life and she's obviously happy so who am i to judge. what she's doing isn't causing any harm in my life. maybe she's trying something new we don't know. that's the thing about sexuality. it's not just something you can turn on or off. you can't fault her for having feelings for a guy.

Riley: I really do believe society creates these labels to divide people, not realizing that people can love who they want. I think the bisexuality label is often misconstrued for promiscuity. People think that if you can’t “choose” then you must be a hoe, and just want the attention from wherever you can get it. But that’s a toxic mindset, sexuality is fluid it changes. You might vibe with someone today who you don’t tomorrow and you don’t deserve to be judged for that. I always have been frustrated by people who were so worried about what other people were doing in their private time.

Danica: For the most part, I think just society as a general whole has a tendency to put people in boxes. And you can't check more than one. If you do there is obviously something.. Wrong. And it doesn't make any sense really because people are in a gradient, but as far as categorizing and things like that, it's been happening since...forever. With race, gender and of course sexuality. You check more than one box and we have to have a discussion apparently, when it's really love is love.

Ozzy: I think it starts with not putting a label on yourself to begin with. Don’t put a label on sexuality, especially if you know that it may leave room for people to judge, you know? I know there are people who label themselves a certain sexuality, and act another way. Is it due to the lack of education? Is it because they are just calling themselves what they think fits at the moment? It can be offensive to the people who do follow labels, I’m not apart of the LGBTQ community but I support it so much, and have educated myself.

Majesty: (perks up as she hears the topic before getting closer to her mic and shakes her head with a shrug) I honestly have no idea, it's like being bisexual you always have to validate your sexual orientation to people in the lgbtq community who could understand you. I think society can't grasp the concept that at the end of the day, it's all about attraction and intent. And that goes for every sexual preference.

Jocelyn: [listens to them and nods] social media always have something to say nothing good comes from it. I personally think that you love who you love. If you like women be proud of that don't let the closed mind of others discourage you. No one really has the right to judge you in the first place.

Kennedy: Yes! Yes! You guys are honestly all making me so happy right now because I can agree with something everyone said. I definitely feel like its your business who you like and what you do, but its also human nature to be in people's business. I don't know why its like that, but it is. Probably passed down from them nagging ass grandparents who got it from theirs. [chuckles softly] Plus social media makes it even worse. Jumping topics really quick, whew..can we talk about that article that dropped on that one gossip site? I mean we don't have to go into details, but how do you guys feel about stuff like that? Should we all just ignore it or take heed in what they're saying? It was talking hella smack about people and their relationships. Would you guys let what was said if something was said about you affect how you feel about your partner?

Randy: I mean it honestly depends on what they were involved in and I would be a stalker bitch that i can be and find out what's really going on, can I cuss on here? If not...my bad.

Monse: [chuckles at kennedy] we probably did get it from them but being nosy is human thing and sometimes we can’t help it but I agree with scorpio because happiness is all that matters in the end. but whew chile the ghetto, that’s what that gossip page is. being the type of person that i am. especially when it comes to my significant other then I’ll be lying if I said i wouldn’t let it affect us but at the same time it’s gone be something that we discuss and get to the bottom of because just leaving it in the air like that will probably only hurt later on down in the line. although we should never believe gossip but that’s one of those human things too.

Jocelyn: ignore it they want you to say something and if you do then that's how they know they got you. If i’m in a relationship and people have shit to say it's solely up to me and my partner to say something back or ignore and be the happy couple we destined to be. It's always the ones who never had a guy or girl in their life but yet has so much to say about you and yours girl bye.

Scorpio: since i'm in the career field that i'm in shit [covers her mouth] can we curse on here? [smiles] but things like that goes in one ear and out the other. you can't feed into that. people talk all the time. most of it i will ignore but there's a line and if it's crossed i will respond.

Majesty: I think that unless it involves you then it’s not really something that you have to pay that close attention to, it’s like a laugh and move on type deal. But if it does involve you then, ehhh...I would probably check in like “hey what they talking about” but that’s just if it’s serious. If it’s something petty then, yeah, I’m probably shrugging that off too

Danica: [laughs a bit] You know, it's funny you bring that up because I was thinking about it today. I suppose it's their job to "spill tea" But..it always makes me curious as to where the info they find comes from. And it seems like a lot of times, it's just to get something cooking, or stir the pot. I wouldn't have anything affect me if it was petty info, but of course I would want my partner to let me know what's going on. I don't want to be left in the dark.

Riley: I feel like what you read online is always too spicy to be the absolute truth. Blogs have said things about me that were fact, but then just assumed that my intent was something else. For example, I went to the doctors, so now I’m pregnant. Like no! I had the flu. But it’s for that reason that I don’t let what is said effect myself and potential partners. Yes, it may hurt my feelings in the moment, but I can’t let a masked culprit cause me to sacrifice happiness in my own relationship. Now if it’s something I was already thinking may have been going on and the blogs confirm, that might give me enough gall to ask my partner about it. But I never take things like that for fact. You can’t even confirm the source! [chuckles]

Ozzy: you should trust your partner enough to know what’s really up, but some of that stuff has some truth and you should be smart enough to at least ask your partner about it. that’s what i would do.

Monse: yeah i agree with ozzy, trust is a big factor in anything. but sometimes the things you here can be so outrageous and just off guard that you can't help but to question it. communication should always happen regardless though.

Danica: I agree with that for sure. At the end of the day, it's you--and that person-- and no one that's not supposed to be there. People can speculate but you know what's up in the long run..or at least you should.

Kennedy: [chuckles] Yes, you can curse. This is going straight to the interwebs and iTunes, but I agree. Sometimes you can kinda tell when stuff is bullshit, but like Riley said if you're already questioning something then I feel like its going to push you to want to talk about it with your partner and we know how much communication can make or break something. Everybody here single? Or what? My bad. I should have been asked that. A bunch of single people up here giving relationship advice and what not. [laughs softly]

Randy: I'm single by choice, ok? a lot of people can't handle my job so I stay single, but my advice be off the chain.

Ozzy: I’m definitely single and I haven’t been in a relationship in a very long time..and damn, I have no right to give anyone advice on anything. [laughs]

Majesty: I’m single as a pringle but I think giving any type of advice is just about having wisdom. Like just because you’re not in a relationship doesn’t mean you haven’t been and don’t know a lil Sumin Sumin. (begins to laugh) I know that wasn’t the topic but I hate when people say “well you’re single, you can’t give me advice” like damn without my advice your ass about to be single.

Scorpio: i'm single. i'm more so just riding the ride. i'm not pressed to be in a relationship and if i get in one then it happens.

Monse: no i'm not single [chuckles] but i think advice can be given by anyone because i'm sure we've all experienced something things in past relationships.

Jocelyn: I'm single. [chuckles] it's been a minute since i’ve been in one. I think it's alright to give advice you speaking on past experiences.

Danica: I’m Netflix and chilling by myself and it's also been quite a while since I've even been close to a relationship. [laughs as she nods in agreement to Monse] Yes, most definitely.

Riley: [laughs] I’m single and here to talk about sexuality. Cause me giving relationship advice is a dub.

Kennedy: [laughs] I'm just asking seeing where everybody is at. In no way do I think it has anything to do with giving relationship advice. Now if you suck at relationships and thats why you're single then you need to be on hush mode. [chuckles] Well everyone can still have an opinion. How do you guys feel about social media and being in a relationship? I know a lot of people think its negative and causes problems, but do you guys think there could be positive things that come from social media and your relationship? And if its so negative why do we continue to allow it to have that much of an impact?

Ozzy: Now social media can be a killer to people in relationships! Some people rather pay attention to likes, tweets and other random unimportant shit than their partner. On the other hand, I feel like social media should only see but so much of you and your partner. Woman crush Wednesdaying your lovely lady is totally fine, but telling the timeline your every move is toxic!

Randy: I feel like its only killer if you allow it to be.

Danica: A lot of the times I feel people use social media as either as a crutch, or a blind spot. For a lot of people, they show how perfect their relationship is on social media, getting all the hearts and like reacts in the world, but behind closed doors it's a whole different story. Or you're using to keep something together and make it it seem picture perfect. It's a fine like to walk sometimes I feel like, but you can't expose your whole life, or pretend things are sunshine and roses. A lot of people like to use as a facade and it shouldn't be..it can be great for a lot of reasons, but at the same time it can put stress on the wrong things, or blind people completely, when it should do neither. I agree with a lot of what Ozzy said.

Scorpio: it can be a killer when you're immature about it. just like what ozzy said all the posts about mcm and wcw is totally fine. but the moment you bash each other and wanna argue i think it's wrong. some things should be kept sacred.

Monse: i think that social media can only be a killer if you allow it to be. there's nothing wrong with social media and relationships because it's a free world with the freedom speech. most people have no problem showing off their partners and supporting them with whatever on social media. most negative things that happens with social media can be rightfully avoided

Majesty: I agree with Randy, if you’re being mature and handling your relationship like you should then social media shouldn’t be a problem. I feel like we give social media too much credit. We use it to validate each other, among other things and at the end of the day it really shouldn’t be like that. (chuckles) like the whole women crush Wednesday thing, I’m cool with it but I’ve had people get in my ass for not posting them but like...what should it matter. I’m not hiding the world from you or you from the world, I’m just not feeding into all that.

Riley: For myself and the anxiety I have, I try to pretend it’s not there. It’s not good for me at all, and I don’t know what good could come from it. If I post a picture I’ve gotta worry about who sees it and what they’ll think, if someone comments something crazy I’ll get all upset. And in the courtship phases it’s even worse. So I try to avoid it all around when I really like someone. For me, a person with anxiety, giving people easy access to my most personal connection with a person is dangerous. So I try to just stay away from it. But that doesn’t make me mad at those people who do choose to be public with their relationships on social. I actually think that’s adorable.

Randy: All in all a lot of people take this social media shit too serious and it not only affects relationships but friendships as well and it's just some childish unnecessary actions that take place. Like if the internet goes out while you're with the people you care about most, then what? You gonna be mad that you can't post a picture of all you guys on instagram, so? You're with the one you love enjoy it, social media is just online while they're right there. sometimes people do not get that and they let it control the one they're with, thats how they end up failing.

Ozzy: Do you guys know what grinds my gears about relationships on social media? The ones who put emojis over their partners or hide their faces. I think that’s an issue for me. It’s kind of a deal breaker. People make a lot of excuses about why they can’t post you or why they choose to hide you. Social media is big now. It’s important to me that my significant other makes it clear to people on social media they are in a relationship, because I instantly think they’re hiding something.

Danica: It definitely gets taken too seriously..Honestly I feel like it's become another social symbol of how well you're doing as a general whole. It was never that important to begin with, but things changed with technology and just generations I suppose.

Monse: i never understood the whole hiding situation. like if you don't want to post then by all means don't post but we're not going to play a game of guess who to figure out your mystery. it's confusing to me.

Majesty: See, I think the whole emoji over face thing is weird too. But I cant say that my significant other no posting me would bother me, honestly. I was just never into all of that. I just have to believe and trust that they’re doing right by me. Because if I let something as small as that get in the way of my relationship then I damn near don’t need to be in it

Kennedy: Honestly I don't see the big deal in posting your significant other, but I agree Ozzy.. if they are going to post you then they need to post you and not an emoji. Its ugly for one and they're definitely being secretive. I can also agree with you Riley.. when you're in a position of having a lot of followers or are something like an internet personality it comes with a lot of pressure. You have to be careful with what you say not to step on anyone's toes, offend someone and it makes it hard to be yourself. AND since when did it become posting a MCM or WCW that it meant you were like staking claim on a person? I could have sworn it was about finding someone cute or whatever. Cause I damn sure know Chris Brown ain't checking for me. [laughs] People are hilarious when it comes to social media. The one positive thing that I can say I've seen come out of relationships and social media is like people on Youtube with their significant others using it to their advantage to bring in that dough. Sometimes thats fake too, but hey.. it is what it is.

Riley: Well you know they say social media is a persons highlight reel. I guess the same would go for couples. 

Randy: Hey cause if we claiming someone by posting a man crush monday? I'm posting Drake, I'll be a GREAT step mom.

Riley: [sings] Randyyy do you love me? Are you riding??

Monse: yeah some people can be pretty hell bent on the whole MCM or WCW thing but i've never really saw the importance of it being a must when in a relationship. even if you considered a person to be cute, you can just be giving credit where it's due. that doesn't necessarily mean you're staking claim, i feel like that's immature kind of behavior for some who feel that way. the only time i'd say that it was bad was if you were knowingly posting someone else's partner, then that's just messy [chuckles at randy]

Jocelyn: [laughs] people view it differently from one another if im posting an MCM it's more than likely I find that person attractive and it's a connection there.

Scorpio: my issue with the whole mcm thing is if girls post the same guy then they are sharing them. why can't both of them just think he's cute?

Danica: I agree with Monse on this one. [laughs a bit] Exactly.

Randy: I'm riding if he want, I'll ride, be bent over anything he need  I'm WITH it all. I'll pull a mimi in the bathroom if he want it. [giggling softly] 

Monse: that's true too scorpio but most of the time females only post MCM because they're feeling that person. so you never really know for sure if they sharing or not

Kennedy: [sighs] And thats where the issue comes into play when it got taken from finding them cute to be staking claim likes he’s mines. Which honestly posting someone as WCW/MCM isn't going to stop a determined person. I don't want to make this too long, but we were having such a good time. I have to end this on a positive note. So everyone tell me your go to 'I got a crush on you', I'm feeling you or I'm in love song.

Randy: my favorite song....? Probably a freaky song, like do my dance by tyga or something along the lines. OH probably some jodeci Freak N You. I'm about to go play that for someone i’m feeling right now.

Jocelyn: Mhm, for someone i’m feeling it would definitely have to be this one if you let me by Sinead Harnett.

Riley: mine is probably rather die young by Beyoncé or stay by Jodeci. If I’m listening to those, somebody has me all the way in my feelings.

Scorpio: i would say pretty brown eyes by mint condition.

Ozzy: The I have a crush on you song, or the song when I see a beautiful woman and can just tell her personality is amazing is, Can We Talk, by Tevin Campbell. My other go to when I’m in love is, Pretty Wings by Maxwell.

Monse: ooh those are some freaky songs alright [laughs at randy] uh my songs would definitely be sweet love by anita baker and brown eye's by destiny's child.

Majesty: Hmmm for someone I’m feeling it would probably be hella old school songs. [points to ozzy and laughs] he took my song, can we talk by Tevin Campbell but if I was in love it would be You by Jesse Powell...there’s so so many honestly

Scorpio: yesss tevin campell.

Danica: Oh gosh that's hard! The current one I'm loving for when I'm crushing on someone is Lil Love Song by Tash. As for a love song?? I don't have one. I need to get on that. [chuckles a bit] And Monse I love Anita Baker! She's amazing. That song is such a classic.

Monse: tevin campbell and jesse powell are classics, i honestly wanted to say lenny williams 'cause i love you but i didn't want to go back too much with the oldies [chuckles] yes same danica she is!

Ozzy: Definitely trying to serenade a lady with some Tevin Campbell one day, but I’m still practicing my vocals. [laughs]

Randy: everyone on some love and here I am with my tryna fuck songs.

Monse: aww that's cute. trust me if she likes you however you sing it to her she'll be happy.

Danica: [busts out laughing at Randy's comment] But it's okay! Those songs are great!

Jocelyn: Go ahead Ozzy im sure she will love it either way. [laughs at Randy comment]

Scorpio: randy has me dying over here. [laughs]

Majesty: Don’t get me all fucked up in this room, I’ll start tearing up just thinking about love (shakes her head as she laughs)

Danica: Aw Majesty! Don't get sad..if you do I'm always here if you need to talk or anything.

Majesty: (places her hand on her chest as she looks at Danica) aww thank you so much, I’m just a hopeless romantic, it’s okay

Monse: don't feel bad majesty, you're not the only one. i love love and the idea of it.

Scorpio: i'm one too boo.

Kennedy: [chuckles at the responses] I was definitely going to say Can We Talk by Tevin Campbell and You by Jesse is one of my wedding songs if not the ONE. Since you guys took my go to's. The next for me would be Brandy's Sitting Up In My Room. Just good vibes all around, high school crush days. Well guys I've enjoyed this time with you guys. I thank you all so much for coming out to chat with meee. To my followers, check these ladies and this handsome man out on Twitter. Their handles will be tagged. I love y'all. You know where to reach me. Peeeeaaace!

[geekygoddesss]

“Teach me”

Requested by @heswife 

It was definitely no secret for anyone that acting was no easy task to do. Sure, you could get away with it if you got to, like if you were to do  it on a school project or etcetera, but when it came to big productions, it was such a scary thing and even after years and years of dedication on this skill, I still felt as bad as usual before I had to film a big production, especially now.

Here’s some background information so I can explain myself a little better.

I haven’t acted in almost six years, and I was really starting to forget how to even do that. When I was little my mom got me in an audition for a big production with Marvel and for our surprise, I got the part, we signed a contract and for approximately four or five years they made me appear in about three or four movies and keep playing that same character for more productions.

But after these productions, it's not like I kept going on with my acting career. Sure, I knew how to do it, but I really wanted to go to school and graduate so eventually I could join college, I couldn’t do both things at once. One way or another, I did it, I graduated, the whole shebang, I was in college living a somehow normal life, until a producer called me and offered me the job back and I don't know how I accepted.

Lucky me, I was not alone in this, my boyfriend happened to be an actor and he has been doing this for a long time, we were also working on the same production so we helped each other out.

My biggest struggle with all this came from the fact that my memory is just terrible, I could memorize stuff, but not a lot of stuff at once or else I would get really confused and everything would mix up, so learning the lines for the first day of shooting a reallly really long scene for my character was starting to look like a nightmare.

So here I was, passing around in the living room in our rented apartment in Atlanta, and trying to get myself together, learning the lines for a scene I had to shoot in just hours. I was not in a very good place right now.

“Oh man! There's a second scene? I didn't know that” I said flipping through the pages of my script and seeing my name in at least ten more pages  “I'm so screwed” I sighed, letting myself fall on the couch, right next to Tom.

“Babe relax” He said. His accent sounding thicker than usual, after a good while of speaking to me in an american accent while we read through the lines.

I glare at him and held my opened bottle of water in front of him, almost if I was threatening with attack him with water “Tell me to relax again” I say in a dark voice, but I cut it out when I see how irritated he was by this point. I did not blame hit at all, it was late at night, we needed to sleep and here we were. Studying. Oh well, something like that.  I lean on him and kiss his shoulder, resting my head on it “sorry, I'm sorry bubba, I'm just too stressed” I whine “I need an acting coach and shot of whiskey”

He chuckles at my request and takes a moment to take a big breath and kiss my forehead.

“I am completely sure you're going to be fine” he assures me, squeezing on my shoulder with his hand and letting me take a couple of seconds for myself “let's go over it again, okay?” he offers, when he sees I am a little more relaxed than a couple of seconds ago.

“No, Tom, I’m screwed” I roll my eyes and sigh “Let’s leave it, I’m sure the producers hate me anyways, maybe I should retire and let them choose another actress”  I say, leaving the script on the coffee table and closing my eyes, the moment that my back touches the comfy couch.

“Okay, I don’t think that’s how it works” he says looking at me weird, handing me my script back  “You have half of the movie down, I have half of it down, darling, this is nothing” he assures me.

“My scenes take forever to shoot” I snap “I mean, yeah sure, you’ve filmed with RDJ before, of course, you’re saying that”

Oh yeah, I totally forgot to mention, I have to shoot with RDJ and it is so scary, I might cry.

“It’s Robert fucking Downey, he's a genius, I suck” I say, getting up from my spot and going back to pacing all over the room.

“Didn’t you filmed with him like years ago?” he asked in confusion and a touch of sarcasm

“I was little, my mom coached me, okay? It was way easier” I snap again, quickly realizing than if I keep doing it, he might get really mad at me, I was already making him stay up all night anyways. “They shouldn’t have brought my character up again, they really shouldn’t have”

“It’s a cool character” he encourages  “and guess what? we get to shoot together in two days” he says smiling at me, as always, looking at the bright side.

“That’s even more intimidating” I chuckled nervously looking down.

“Okay, let’s calm down, go over it again, we still have like five hours to go” he says before checking the time on his phone  “Or four”  he corrects with a sigh.

I knew he was tired and I blame myself for that.

I want to cry.

I want to cry.

I want to cry.

I want to cry.

“ok” I take a very deep breath and control myself as much as I can, I look down at my script and place it right when the second scene started, ready for just reading lines. Hopefully, i would remember some of this things. “Go”

He nods and gets up of his seat, flipping the pages on the script until he reaches the right one. “Alright, so Robert comes in and faces you” he says, walking up to me and making me sit back down on the sofa, clearly set down the screen for both of us to follow up “What are you doing here?” he says in an accent again, while reading on the script.

“Lighting your life, Saving your butt” I read, forcing myself to go in character.

“You’ve got to be kidding me” he says with a sarcastic chuckle “I thought you were dead”

“Well, I am not” I shrug looking at him with a challenging look, setting us even more into the scene “Dad, you could show a little happiness”

“I don’t believe you” he says with fake anger, it looks so real. He does such a good job with acting, I couldn’t be more jealous.

“What?” I read my script in fake confusion.

“You came out of nowhere, you could be anyone, are you working for him?” he says quickly, speaking so fast like Robert would do.

“Dad-”

“You died, in that explosion!” he exclaims  “I saw it with my own eyes, i saw you die”

“You would know I didn’t if you cared” I snap back, not taking my eyes off the script for a second “I’ve been alone for five years, dad, five years”

“Bullshit” he says, taking the script down and looking at me in the eyes  “six years ago, you went under my care” he says, he memorized this in seconds, how does he do that? “Your mother died and there was someone in that room, that wasn't you or your grandmother or me” he follows along  “Who was it?”

“You really don’t believe me Tony” I read down, laughing sarcastically “I’m your girl”

“Answer the question” he demands “Answer!”

I look up, ready to recite the next line, but a notice something. There’s a little shine in his eye, something that wasn’t there before and from all sudden it was just sitting there, giving a lot of emotion to this scene. He was really into character, he was fake crying an everything and I have so many questions right now. In a snap i am now just distracted, Looking at his eyes and wondering. In what moment he even prepared to do this, to cry in front of me like if he was literally with me on set. I thought we were supposed to just read lines.

“How did you do that?” I ask, in pure curiosity.

“What?” He says, going out of accent and also out of character.

I point at him and get up, taking his face between my hands “That, look at your eyes, they're so watery” I say, checking them out. I look at them and he sighs in irritations. I close my eyes, realizing what I just did  “I ruined the scene again”

“A little bit” He nods, taking my hands off his face and giving them a squeeze. “Let’s just, take a break”

We go to the kitchen and take two cans of soda for us, maybe that will keep us awake, if we planned to keep practicing, we would have to make sure we didn’t pass out in the middle of anything. “How do you do that?” I ask, sitting on the kitchen table and opening my own drink.

“You don’t remember how to make yourself cry?” he sits sitting beside me, I shake my head and his eyes widen “Babe”

“Teach me” I pout, bumping his knee with mine as he shakes his head almost as he was disappointed but I know he wasn’t, he understood why I don’t remember “C’mon, tom, I haven't acted in years, help me out a little”

He sits there and stared at the wall, before turning to look back at me. He knew I was right, after years of not practicing any acting there was just no way that I would remember how, it was almost impossible.

“Alright, ok” he nods, accepting the challenge “So, first of all, you need to really really get in character” he says explaining a little while leaning a little closer to me, he is about to keep explaining but he stops before he could say anything else and looks at me a bit weird  “Wait, hold on, you are not even supposed to cry in this scene”

I chuckle and nod “But wouldn’t it be fantastic, though? for the scene, the tension, the arguing, it would be mind-blowing” I say with a smile, trying to seem like I was totally relaxed and stress-free. Spoiler, I wasn’t.

“Well, you have to go through stages, you need to feel everything the character is feeling so it is crucial for you to just keep the scene going” he keeps explaining, trying to be as clear as possible “you enter the emotional stage and just go up and up until you can feel the crying coming, I swear it's not that hard” he says, and really, somehow it looks like it's easier to say than to get done.

I raise an eyebrow “huh” In one way I expect a little more explanation than that, but apparently, that’s all I can get.

“Takes a lot of practice” He says, sipping on his drink.

I nod in understanding, I was not even going to attempt on trying it, I just reach for my script on the table and flip to through the pages “Cool cool” I say looking down, I point where we left off and slide his script on his direction “Let’s take it from, ‘You died blah blah blah’’

He looks down at the script and then up at me, I could see it in his eyes, he is so done right now. “Darling, I am so sorry, but I don’t think I can take this anymore” he says, sliding the script away “I am so tired, I should sleep and you should too”

“What? But I am supposed to learn this for tomorrow” I pout when he finishes up his drink in a couple of sips and gets up the chair.

“I’ll tell you what, tomorrow we will get up early and study these together, I can also come over to your trailer over lunch break and we’ll practice” He offers to me with a little smile, holding out a hand for me to take it.

I stare at him for a good while, as he waits for me to answer. the offer really didn’t sound that bad, I was too tired to even memorize a thing, for my own good, I should go to sleep before I pass out somewhere around the apartment that isn’t the bed.

“Why is that the sweetest thing ever?” I yawn, taking Tom’s hand and letting him get me up to walk into our bedroom.

“Because I am the sweetest boyfriend you ever had” He smiles and kisses my cheek as I walk through the little hall.

“Your ego is on fire” I chuckle, sitting on the bed.

“When is it not?” He says, jumping on the bed, right beside me “So,deal?”

I act like if I am still thinking about it, but to be honest, I already have it all decided, I am going to sleep and tomorrow will be a new day, I can do this “Deal” I say, moving back on the bed, reaching my side and snuggling on the covers “Also, can you keep talking in that american accent? I just came to the conclusion” I say, covering myself with the blankets. “It really turns me on”

“Hm” he says doing the same as me, but this time he was snuggling inside my covers and leaning close to me “Let’s leave it for another night, yeah babe?” he says, pecking my lips shortly.

“Okay, buddy” I chuckle and kiss his lips again.

Gosh, I just touched the pillow and I am already sleepy. By the time he turns off all of the lights I am already half asleep.

Yeah, I wasn’t ready for the next day and yeah, it was a big day for me, but I have the best support I could get and an amazing boyfriend that was beside me no matter what, the truth is, I got this.

I got this.

[bikaelsons]

die easy

CHAPTER SIX ∙ 'cause I can't take it

note: yes this is a repost a month late, but what’s important to remember is that while i may be incompetent, i’m also an unmitigated disaster. as it turns out this chapter’s title was a prophecy of what it’d be like trying to post this monstrosity! i’m gonna go take a long bath

warnings: allusions to domestic violence, canon-typical violence, and katherine pierce removing her fake eyelashes (the last one made ... an impact)

<< previous chapter

ao3 link - tumblr masterlist

Matt ran red light after red light, screaming through corners and clipping hedges. More than one indignant jogger flipped him off as he tore past. He didn't care.

He pulled up at the Gilbert residence, scraping the wheels against the gutter. He bailed out, not bothering to lock the truck as he took off across the grass. The door was unlocked, but had it been otherwise he felt desperate enough to take it right off its hinges.

Caroline was in the living room, makeup smudged with tears and exhaustion. "Thank god," she breathed, and it was all she got out before Matt tackled her into a hug. When she continued, her voice was muffled against his chest. "I thought you might run over someone on your way here."

"I was careful," he lied, pulling back but keeping Caroline at arm's length. "Where—how—"

"Elena took him upstairs. She—" Caroline lowered her voice, mindful of vampire senses. "She thinks his ring will bring him back."

A spark of hope ignited in Matt's chest, quashed instantly by the subsequent realisation. "It only works on humans that are killed by supernaturals."

"And while Katherine is supernatural—"

"—so is Jer. Fuck." The hollow ache returned to Matt's chest, one he knew all too well. "I'll go talk to her."

Caroline nodded. "I'm gonna try calling Ty again."

Hugging her one last time, Matt left to give her some privacy.

 #

 Elijah had never much liked Pennsylvania. A discomforting encounter with Quakers way back when had cured him of any affection for the wretched state. The summers were unbearably humid, somehow worse than any he'd experienced in Louisiana. How many suits had he ruined with sweat in this awful piece of country?

To be fair, though, he'd ruined more with blood.

Setting aside his prejudice, as a learned man was wont to do, Elijah forced himself past the border and deeper into the state. The coordinates Allie had provided took him west to a small, armpit of a town that already festered with the coming summer.

(It was lovely, but he was in no state to acknowledge that.)

The town's hub of activity was a stretch of cafes and antique stores in a short street adjacent to the main one, and it was there that Elijah found himself. He bypassed the juice bar for a more traditional diner with checkered linoleum and a jukebox he was willing to compel them all not to touch. He ordered a black coffee and sat on a stool that creaked beneath him, the entire set-up a mockery of a bar. Even the smooth, plastic countertop beneath his fingers was red and sparkling clean to aid the sliding of milkshake glasses to eager customers.

Elijah accepted his coffee from one of the workers, a pimpled man with a nametag that read RANDY and who'd known every other customer by name, and who drawled at Elijah, "New in town?"

"Is it obvious?" Elijah replied, gesturing to his suit. Everyone else was dressed like they were going to the beach, except for the uniformed workers at table No. 9.

"Yeah, you don't look like the regular folk, unless you're a real estate agent."

Elijah returned the man's smile despite having seen such a real estate agent setting up fliers on his way here, an agent who had been wearing a polo shirt under his suit jacket. "I'm here looking for a friend, actually."

"Who? Maybe it's someone I know."

Elijah pulled his phone from his pocket, first noting the absence of messages from Matthew, then tapping in his code and bringing up the picture of Elena he'd filched from the Mystic Falls High website for this exact purpose. She wasn't who he was looking for, but they were quite literally doppelgangers. "This woman," he said, showing the phone to the worker.

The worker leaned in close, squinting at the picture. "Can't say I've met her. Maybe you could ask around, though?"

"Perhaps. I was told she'd made herself quite a fixture in the town." Actually, Allie's exact words had been She's talking like she's the fucking queen boss, Uncle. "If you see anyone matching her description, do let her know I'm looking for her." It could make her run, but it could also draw her out enough for a conversation. Elijah was willing to take the risk.

"I sure will," the worker affirmed. He leaned back over his shoulder and yelled, "Going on break, boss!" then tossed his dishtowel over one shoulder and disappeared into the kitchen.

Elijah checked once more for notifications, then switched his phone off and returned it to his pocket. He shouldn't be this anxious really—Matthew had told him to leave, and he'd been right. It was time for Elijah to stop hanging onto his brother's apron strings. The solution to this was, of course, to track down the woman that had ruined his relationship with his brother to begin with.

By the time Elijah finished his (annoyingly decent) coffee he'd well and truly talked himself into a mood. So it wasn't really his fault he didn't notice someone was following him out of the diner until he was three streets away from the main action and their heels kept clicking on the sidewalk in a syncopated rhythm to compliment his.

He glanced over his shoulder quickly, finding no one there and the sound gone. Attuning his senses, Elijah froze. The scent wasn't like Katherine's—he knew that too well to be mistaken—but it was female and vampiric.

"I know you're there," Elijah announced in a cool tone. "Playing games will not end well for you."

“You're looking for Katherine," said the woman, her accent a crisp, almost too-perfect British.

Elijah tried to attune his hearing, to seek out a heartbeat, some whisper of breath in lungs, but found nothing. "And you can help me."

"Perhaps."

"If you could show yourself, I'd appreciate it."

"Why? Can't you find my heart, Elijah Mikaelson?"

He'd already been irritated; now he was what the Americans so aptly referred to as pissed. Which didn't help, because the roaring of blood in his ears only made it harder to pick out her location. Even her scent was difficult to negotiate among the alley they'd found themselves in, all sorts of unsavoury scents occupying his olfactory senses.

"Is she here?"

"So what if she is?"

It took conscious effort to un-grit his teeth. "I am not one to be run around by childish games. Either tell me where to find Katerina or I will leave."

Silence. Then, a heartbeat. It began slowly, quickening to a more normal rate and coming with breaths and the sound of heels on a brick rooftop. Elijah looked up to see a vampire loom above him, short and round in stature and with short, pin-straight hair. She stepped from the rooftop as though she were descending a staircase, landing on the ground in front of him like the jump had been nothing at all.

"You stopped your heart," Elijah said, stepping back to survey her.

She dusted off her dusky pink cardigan with a few stiff, practiced movements, then turned her gaze on him. Something about it was unnerving, exacting. "I did."

"And you are?"

"Juliana Porter. I work with Miss Pierce."

With, not for. An interesting word choice, and a deliberate one, too, if her meticulous nature so far had been any indication.

"She's here, then?"

"Not presently, but she sends her apologies. She has been waiting for you, but other matters took her away."

"Why has she been waiting for me?" And how did she know I would come?

"I think you know the answer to that, Mr Mikaelson. Now, would you like me to show you to your room?"

Elijah raised an eyebrow. "I have a room?"

"But of course." Juliana's grin was large enough to show the place in her gums where her fangs laid in wait, just barely pressing against the pink. "Like I said: Katherine has been waiting for you."

 #

 Matt had seen too many dead bodies.

One could argue that one dead body was too many, but Matt did feel like he could almost have handled that. Maybe.

Who was he kidding? He could barely handle seeing undead bodies.

Now he was seeing both dead and undead: Elena, undead and perched beside Jeremy, dead and laid out on his bed as though he were only sleeping after all.

"I know what they're saying," Elena said, breaking the silence. "I'm not crazy."

Matt swallowed the lump in his throat. "No one's saying you're crazy."

"Just that I'm wrong." Elena's thumb brushed over the Gilbert ring on Jeremy's hand, fingernail catching on the blue stone.

"He's not human anymore, Elena. He stopped being human as soon as we activated his Hunter's curse." Just like werewolves, it was the first kill that brought a hunter out to play. The first vampire Jeremy had slain sealed his fate.

Elena shook her head. "Just—shut up, okay? He's gonna be fine. Everything's gonna be fine."

And though Matt knew otherwise, he sat beside Elena and tucked an arm around her.

Maybe things would be better once the Salvatores got back.

 #

 The room Juliana took Elijah to was exactly to his taste, from the plush, navy rug to the mahogany end table to the precise threadcount on the Egyptian cotton sheets splashed over the memory foam mattress.

"Miss Katherine designed it for you especially," Juliana contributed from the doorway. "She said you'd come to find her."

Katherine always had been one step ahead of them. Elijah had long since given up on figuring out how she managed it. And though part of him wanted to run contrary to her assumptions, to not be kept waiting like some insect in amber until Katherine saw fit to fetch him ... this was what he'd come here for.

"Shall I ask the kitchens to draw you some tea?"

Elijah turned back to face Juliana. For someone that had been so adamant about working with Katherine, not for her, she was sure behaving like a maidservant. "No," said Elijah. "I think some rum will suit me better."

Juliana raised an eyebrow. "Right you are, then. I'll leave you to it."

She departed, shutting the door behind her and leaving Elijah alone in the space his oldest love had carved for him.

 #

 Matt set the coffee cup down beside Caroline and slid into the booth across from her. "Still nothing from Ty?"

Caroline shook her head, setting her phone down. "Radio silence. I guess Klaus really got to him."

"He'll come around."

"Nope," said Caroline, popping the 'p' and bringing her coffee up under her nose. "I think the point of leaving was that he's never coming around again."

"He won't abandon you."

"I told him to go. We agreed it was for the best. Said goodbye and everything."

Funny, since Ty hadn't seen fit to show Matt the same courtesy. A dead best friend and one that might as well be dead, too. Fitting.

"I'm sorry," said Caroline, catching sight of Matt's face. "Are you okay?"

"Fine," Matt bit out. I just picked a hell of a time to get rid of Elijah. Would he even care that Katherine had killed Jeremy? He had a history with her, Matt remembered. Then again, he had a history with Jeremy, the guy that killed Kol.

Once, just once, Matt would like to feel an uncomplicated emotion.

"You can talk to me." Caroline reached across the table to grab onto Matt's hand. "Jeremy meant a lot to you. And losing Ty, too ..."

Matt withdrew a little. "I'm fine."

Caroline seemed about to argue when her phone started ringing. She said, "Stefan," and picked it up hurriedly. "Is everything okay?"

Matt couldn't make out the voice on the other ended, but it didn't sound particularly thrilled. Not that it should.

"Oh. Oh." Tears welled up in Caroline's eyes like they belonged there, though she fought them valiantly, biting her lip and tensing her frame in an attempt to gain control. She met Matt's gaze as she told Stefan, "We'll be right there."

 #

 The Gilbert house was burning.

Caroline had to get creative in driving through the amassed crowd, and even then they could hardly get onto the street before they were stopped by a ring of firetrucks forming a barrier. A few hoses were going, trying to douse the flames, but it was too late for the house. Half of it had crumbled before Matt even got out of the car.

The house he'd spent his entire childhood in was becoming a husk before his eyes.

Caroline grabbed his wrist and pulled him past the firetrucks, breathing, "Elena." They pushed forward to get to the Salvatores and Elena, who stood on a neighbouring lawn. Damon was blank-faced, Stefan was grim, and Elena ...

Matt stepped forward, trying to get her attention. She watched the fire with a neutral expression, her tears long since dried by the warmth. "He's inside," she said. "They're fighting because they think he's still alive."

Jeremy. They had to find a cover for his death. It was smart, if not horrible. "Are you ... okay?" Matt asked, hating how it sounded.

Elena looked away from the fire easily, turning on him with a blank expression. "I'm fine." She flicked her gaze to Damon. "Let's go."

To Matt's shock, Elena strode away, Damon trailing after her. He looked back over his shoulder to exchange a look with Stefan and was gone.

"What the hell was that?" Caroline demanded.

"That was Elena," Stefan answered. "Without her humanity."

 #

 The shower was just as luxurious as the bedroom had been, multiple nozzles and enough room for ten men to stand in. Elijah took more time than he needed, glad for the reprieve from motel showers.

The moment he turned the water off, Elijah knew she was back. Her scent reached him even through the steam, even as he heard her unmistakable heart beating outside.

He took his time drying off, shaving meticulously, and slipping on silk pyjama pants and one of the bathrobes provided. Katherine also seemed to be stalling, only just crossing the threshold as Elijah finished in the bathroom. He heard her farewell Juliana, who she seemed on good terms with. He heard her curse under her breath as she removed her heels halfway up the stairs, stockinged toes sinking into the lush carpet.

He did love her. Each reminder of the affliction was another punch to the gut.

Katherine slowed as she passed his bedroom door but didn't quite stop. She picked up her pace and headed into her own room down the hall, leaving her door open. An invitation.

You've come this far, Elijah reasoned, tying his robe a little tighter, tucking his phone into the pocket. He headed down the hall and rapped his knuckles against the doorframe that thresholded her room, hoping the pattern of knocks sounded sufficiently bored and entirely undesperate.

He didn't wait for her invitation to enter—her bedroom was many things, but a human residence, it was not. He had no need for permission, and he knew for a fact that she would never give it. A verbal invitation sounded too much like a question, and a question permitted a response in the negative. Katerina Petrova was never denied.

She wasn't laid on the bed, as one might expect. Instead, she'd planted herself on the heavy leather chest at the foot of her bed, rubbing her now bare feet. Her shoes and stockings were in a pile at her feet, her trench coat draped beneath her like a skin easily shed. All she wore was a dress of the brightest blue, the kind that almost pulsed in the dim light.

"Hello, Katerina."

Her smile was guileless. "Elijah. So nice of you to join me."

Elijah leaned against the bed frame, ignoring the way her fingers dug into the arch of her foot, relieving a phantom ache that she didn't feel. She was a vampire, after all. The illusion of relaxation was just that—false. He wouldn't let it ease him. "Since you've had me waiting on you this past day, I'd say it is you that has joined me."

Katherine stood without warning, almost nose-to-nose with him in an instant. "We can join each other." She stepped away just as quickly, dissipating like a mist as she sat at her boudoir, shedding her dress on the way. She sat before it in a black slip only, facing her own reflection yet peering at him through the mirror.

"I'm so sorry to keep you waiting," she said, tone nothing in the vicinity of apology. She pulled one string of false eyelashes off, slowly, tossing it aside. As she moved to give the other one the same treatment, she locked eyes with Elijah. "To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?"

"Your own foresight, if my room is any indication."

"Oh, do you like it?" she asked, voice muffled by the tissue she was wiping her lipstick off with.

"It's precisely my taste, as you know."

She turned over her shoulder to gift him a smile. There were flecks of lipstick staining her teeth, pink and sparkling where she'd pressed them there with the tissue. He doubted that was an accident, nor how swollen her lips looked after cleaning them. "How are you, Elijah?"

"Well enough."

"I heard you and Klaus had a falling out."

"One hears many things if they listen. Not all of them are true."

Katherine opened a drawer and retrieved a packet of what appeared to be wipes. She pulled one out and began rubbing it over her eyelids, the shimmering powder come off like a dusting of sand under a saltwater spray. "I lied," she admitted. "I didn't hear it. But I could see it in your eyes when you walked in, and I guessed it when I prepared your room for you. I've always known you, Elijah."

And there it was: the reason he'd come. The one thing he loathed her for was the one thing he needed her for the most. Even Matthew hadn't been able to see how scarcely Elijah was holding on.

"Am I to guess the nature of this falling out, or will you save me the trouble and regale me with another tale of Mikaelson woe?"

Elijah broke her gaze in the mirror, looking around the room instead. "It was the usual. Lack of cooperation, plotting without our knowledge. He faked his death this time, though. That hasn't happened before."

"It's not exactly beneath him, though, is it?"

Opting not to reply, Elijah scooped up the discarded dress and stockings, placing them in the laundry hamper just beside the bathroom door. He fetched the coat and heels and wandered into the adjoining walk-in wardrobe, finding their places easily: the coat among its sisters, the shoes in the only spare place along the floor. By the time he returned to the room, Katherine was finished, beaming at him with a youthfulness that was almost hard to look at.

She looked like Katerina. Sometimes, she was.

"Always cleaning up after me, Elijah," said Katerina, not budging an inch. "After all of us. You must be so exhausted." Where once her tone had been mocking, now it was only sincere.

Left with nothing else, Elijah had only the truth. "Why else would I come?"

"The same reason you always do."

Katerina extended her hand. Elijah took it.

 #

 Matt sunk into the sofa, the same place he'd always sat. He knew the Lockwood mansion better than his own home—had likely spent more time in it, most of his best memories either here or the Gilbert house. He was almost certain that the reason the sofa in the den molded so well to him was the impression his ass had left in its surface during thousands of hours of Call of Duty with Ty.

All that time, he'd never thought he'd own the place. But he did—in his name and everything.

Honestly, if you asked Matt, Ty could go fuck himself. Acting like the mansion was a substitute for friendship. It was almost 3am and Matt was alone, all alone, in a house that had never embraced a single owner in its entire span. Everyone here was lonely eventually; Matt had watched Ty's parents grow colder every year in it. He was convinced it was cursed.

But it was also all he had left.

Pulling out his phone, Matt scrolled through his contacts for a while, just watching the names spin by like the world's saddest slot machine. He'd really fucked up when he let Jeremy go to that island alone, when he'd accepted his non-invitation without a fight. For what? Time with Elijah and some useless memories he didn't know how to deal with?

Maybe there were some things you just weren't supposed to know. Maybe the fact that your ex-girlfriend fed on you and compelled you to forget multiple times, that your other ex-girlfriend almost killed you and let her current maybe-boyfriend compel away your memories and leave you for dead, that your friend had compelled you to forget your own sister's death ... maybe these were things Matt could have gone without knowing.

He did know he'd trade them in a second if he had half the chance.

Anger burning through him, Matt scrolled back through the names until he got to E. Pulling up his and Elijah's text messages, he found himself faced with the last few. All business, making plans to meet up, to get his memories fixed. Checking in on each other through drama after drama.

He wondered if Elijah knew that Jeremy was dead. Wondered if he cared.

Not giving himself a chance to think, Matt tapped out, Hey, where are you? He only barely stopped himself from sending it. What right did he have to ask? He'd sent Elijah away.

He'd sent everyone away.

 #

 Elijah stared at the bright rectangle of his screen in the dark.

No new messages.

Beside him in the bed, Katerina stirred. "'Lijah?" she whined, shielding her eyes from the light. "Something wrong?"

"No." Elijah clicked his phone off and set it on the nightstand. "Everything's fine. Go back to sleep."

Katerina hummed, reaching out to pull him to her. He went willingly, resting his cheek against her collarbone. He matched his breathing to hers until sleep took him.

 #

 Three days later, Elijah woke to his phone ringing. It was 3am and Katerina, who'd already shown her distaste for phones in the bedroom, groaned beside him.

"Sleep," Elijah told her, kissing her jaw and pulling the covers up. He swept up his phone, slipped on some pants and sped away, ending up down the street where the conversation wouldn't disturb his sleeping lover. And then he looked at the caller ID.

Answering in confusion, Elijah said, "Tam?"

"It's Lex."

"Lex? What are you doing with your mother's phone? Is everything all right?"

"Mom needs help. She won't call Grandma June, but she said I could call you."

"What happened?"

"She got hurt at work. Some guys came to the bar and stuff. She's in the hospital, and there's a lady here to take Dylan and me away."

"What lady?"

"She's a social worker. She says it's just to look after us while Mom's in the hospital, but she also asked a lot of questions about us being there when it happened."

"You were at the bar?" Of course they were. If childcare fell through, Tam couldn't just abandon her shift. Goddamit.

"Yeah. Can you please come? Dylan won't stop crying and Mom can't talk. I don't wanna go with the lady but she says we have to."

Elijah ran a hand over his face. "All right, Lex. I need you to tell the lady that I'm your uncle. Say I'm coming to look after you, so she won't need to."

"What if she doesn't believe me?"

"You can put me on the phone to her now, if you like. But you have to keep up the story, make sure she doesn't think we're lying. Can you do that?"

"Yes, Uncle Eli." Shuffling on the end of the phone. "My uncle wants to talk to you."

More shuffling, then a woman's voice. "Hello? This is Janet. Who is this?"

"I'm Elijah, the boys' uncle."

"I was unaware Tamara had a brother."

"Uncle on their father's side. I'll be by to take care of them soon. I'm in Pennsylvania at the moment, but I'm packing as we speak." A lie. He was standing shirtless in the middle of the street. "I appreciate you looking after the boys while I make my way there."

"Yes, well, anything to help. It's been a rather traumatic situation for them both, and I'm sure Tamara will appreciate your help. You can pick the boys up from the child protective services office on the main street."

"Thank you so much. Would you mind putting Lex back on the phone?"

"Of course.” More shuffling.

"Uncle Eli?"

"Lex. Janet is going to take you to her office, all right? I'll come by and pick you up before it's even light outside."

"What about Mom?"

"I'll make sure she's okay just as soon as I get you and Dylan sorted. She'd want you to take care of yourselves first. Do you understand?"

"I guess."

"Keep your mother's phone on you so you can call me if anything changes. I'll see you soon, all right?"

"All right."

With a beep, Lex hung up.

"Sounds like an interesting kid."

Elijah forced himself not to jump. "Hello, Juliana."

She emerged from the dark, heart resuming its beating. He'd have to ask her how she managed that. "So, you're leaving, then?"

"I have matters to attend to. I'll leave a note for Katherine."

"Don't bother." Juliana smirked. "I'll be sure to give her the full story. Have fun on your little trip."

She flashed away without a word, leaving Elijah alone in the cobblestone street.

 #

 Elijah did, in fact, leave a note for Katerina. It was simple and without flowery sentiment—just the way they both preferred. He drove the entire way to Maryland in silence, hands clenching and unclenching on the wheel.

The Child Protective Services Office was a squat, brown-bricked building with a gravel parking lot inserted out back. It was empty but for one vehicle, presumably Janet's, and most of the lights inside were off.

The doors were locked, as was probably sensible, so Elijah rapped on the frame until a middle-aged woman appeared, her blue eyes watery—perhaps from crying, perhaps because they were just always like that. She unlocked the door quickly and offered him her hand to shake. The wall of warm air and peach-scented perfume hit Elijah like a physical force, almost knocking him back a step.

"Janet Payne," she introduced herself. "You must be Elijah?"

Elijah shook her hand and nodded.

"Please, come on in. I'll take you to the boys."

She led him in past the front desk, one with a perspex barrier and only a slot to pass paper back in forth through. Elijah imagined one would come in handy if he ever reconciled with his family. The 'TAKE A NUMBER AND WAIT YOUR TURN' sign had its own appeal as well.

The boys were in a room brimming with toys that looked like they'd seen better days. Then again, so did the boys. Lex's hair was sticking up at all sides and Dylan's mouth was ringed with something white and foamy, perhaps ... ice cream? They were both in desperate need of baths, fresh clothes, and haircuts. Only two of those were an easy fix.

"Elijah!" said Lex, standing up upon spotting him. He seemed unsure of how to react, whether to go for a hug or what. Knowing that Janet watched on, Elijah stooped down to embrace Lex himself. The assertion that they needed baths was confirmed by closer proximity.

"Come on," said Elijah. "Pack up your things and let's get going."

"I'll need you to sign some paperwork first," said Janet.

Elijah turned to her, catching her eye carefully. "If you check again, I'm sure you'll find that everything is in order."

She blinked heavily, compulsion falling over her mind like a soft blanket, and said, "Of course."

"Come now, boys," Elijah directed over his shoulder. "Let's get going."

 #

 As it turned out, Lex and Dylan were very well-behaved for relative strangers. Lex wasn't entirely trusting, but he seemed to have gauged Elijah as their only viable option while Tam was still in hospital.

Dylan crashed in his bed just after Lex gave him a bath. Elijah didn't interfere; young children were particularly difficult when they deviated from routine, and Elijah had no intention of triggering a tantrum. The only child he'd interacted with in recent memory was Allie, and they'd been a nightmare to deal with at times.

With Dylan in bed, Lex sought Elijah for more food and company. Elijah had pulled together what he could from the kitchen—some eggs on toast, as it was almost breakfast time. Lex didn't seem all that tired, though.

"When are we going to go see Mom?" he asked through his egg.

"Once your brother wakes. I called the hospital to make sure they told her you're with me."

Lex nodded and set his cutlery down to pick up his toast and start chewing on it. "Where did you go?"

"I had family business to attend to."

"What kind of business?"

"The difficult kind."

Lex considered him. "Do you have kids?"

"No. I have siblings, though." And that's sometimes the same thing. "Why weren't you with your babysitter last night?" Tam should have had the money for it. Elijah had compelled her a raise, after all.

"Mom caught the sitter stealing some of her clothes last week. She hasn't found a new one yet."

People really were heathens sometimes, Elijah concluded.

"Are you gonna leave again?" Lex asked. There was nothing in his tone to indicate how he felt about it—he certainly wasn't upset, in any case. And why should he be? He barely knew Elijah.

"Not until I know everything's all right."

"Why can't you just stay?"

"Because I have things to do, Lex."

"What do you do for a living?"

"I'm ... a writer." The lie came easily; he'd used it most recently, when trying to worm his way into the Gilberts' lives. Just a writer researching Mystic Falls history, he'd told Jenna. He wondered if his lie hurried her death at his brother's hand.

"That's cool, I guess," Lex said boredly, playing with his now soggy toast.

Elijah stifled a laugh. Children were always good for the ego.

"You should get some rest," said Elijah. "Your mother will want to know you're doing well when she sees you."

"I'm not tired, though."

"Don't lie. I know you yawned when you were coming down the hallway. Finish your toast and get some sleep."

Lex didn't complain, but Elijah could tell he wanted to. "I'm not hungry," he said instead.

"Good. Brush your teeth. I'll wake you in a few hours."

"What if it's not visiting hours at the hospital?"

"I'm sure we'll figure something out. Go on, now."

Lex shot him one last look before wandering off down the hall, leaving Elijah with the half-eaten toast and an uncomfortable silence.

 #

 The hours passed slowly, Elijah monitoring the boys in the back of his mind. Dylan stayed right out until mid-morning, but Lex tossed and turned for the better part of three hours before he drifted off.

Entertaining Dylan wasn't difficult, much to Elijah's relief. He mostly drank from juice boxes and watched TV; neither of these things were strictly healthy, but Elijah didn't know enough about Tam's rules to enforce them. He allowed it, listening closely from the next room in case he was needed.

Lex didn't need waking. He rolled out of bed after a meagre two hours of rest, as grouchy as the teenager he would be in a few short years. He dressed both Dylan and himself, barely stopping to eat before insisting on going to see his mother.

Elijah drove with the radio on, something he rarely did. The music was annoying, but Dylan knew one or two songs and Lex seemed content to just be.

The hospital wasn't busy, thank god. It was a small-town one with barely enough room for two ambulances in the bay. There was only one nurse working the front desk—an older woman in purple, flowery scrubs. Her breath smelled like the egg she'd had for breakfast.

"Well, hi, there," she cooed, looking down at Dylan and Lex. "Everything all right, folks?"

"We're here to see Tamara Knight. She was brought in last night, injured in a bar fight."

"You a relative?"

"Her brother."

The nurse clicked at her computer for a moment. "Yep, here she is. Room 204. Go down the hall, turn left, then right, then left again. You should find her easy enough."

"Thank you."

Elijah led the boys down the way the nurse had said, but he didn't need the directions. He could hear Tam's breathing, her heartbeat—he could smell her scent. They arrived at her door, 204, and Lex knocked without being asked.

"Come in!"

Lex opened the door, making way for Dylan to dart in toward his mother. She reached over the edge of her bed and took him into her arms.

"Careful," Elijah cautioned, drawing Tam's gaze to him. Her eyes caught Elijah's, sharp, then turned to Lex as she motioned him closer. The three of them embraced, and Elijah ducked out, closing the door behind him.

 #

 Half an hour later, Lex poked his head out to find Elijah standing in the hall. "Mom wants to talk to you. I'm s'posed to take Dylan to the vending machine for some food."

"Do you have money?"

"Duh. Come on, Dylan." Lex pulled Dylan along down the hall in search of food, leaving the door wide open for Elijah to step through.

Inside, Tam was sitting up in her bed. She looked brighter than she had when he caught a glimpse of her earlier, some more colour in her cheeks, brighter light behind her eyes. She wasn't hooked up to any machines or drips, though there was a band aid over the back of her left hand.

"How are you feeling?" Elijah asked, sitting down beside her.

"Fine. I had a slight concussion, but they said I should be out by tonight."

Elijah could smell the blood on her, so he kept staring until she continued, "And there's a cut on the back of my shoulder. Not too deep, but they stitched it up." She motioned to her shoulder, the bandages rustling as she moved. They were mostly out of sight but made her hospital gown look bulky.

"What happened last night? Lex said you were attacked by some man."

"Yeah, just a regular patron."

Elijah stared at her, unimpressed.

"What?" asked Tam, raising her arms innocently. "It's true. He's in there all the time." She sighed. "But we also dated."

"And was his anger at you related to his patronage or your relationship?"

"The latter."

"I trust he's in custody?"

"Yeah, but he won't stay that way. His brother's one of the deputies. Gets him off for everything—DUIs, drunken disorderlies, all of it."

"He won't be this time."

"You sound so certain."

"I am. What else can I do for you?"

"Nothing, really. You already took the boys."

"You don't sound entirely comfortable with that."

Tam shook her head. "Lex was right to call you. There wasn't another option. I just didn't sleep well knowing my kids were in the care of a relative stranger."

"Would you have preferred I leave them with social services?" Elijah intended it as a genuine question. "If so, I apologise, but the situation as it was communicated to me—"

“No, it's fine. They would've looked the kids up, called their grandmother."

"Yes, the famed 'Grandma June'. Your mother or their father's?"

"Mine."

"You were seriously injured in a bar fight. Your mother has no place in this?"

"If she set foot in this town, she'd be reporting me to social services."

"She'd incite a custody battle?"

"She'd win it, too. She's got money, a nice house, a good name, a college education. I've got a record for solicitation and I just got glassed in a fight with an ex-boyfriend while my children cowered under the bar I work at." Tam laughed bitterly. "Maybe they'd be better off with her."

"Do you believe that?"

"I hated living with her, but I might've hated living like this, too."

"You love your sons more than she ever will."

"Love isn't always enough."

"Not always, no." Elijah thought of Niklaus, begging him to free him from his chains with their father beat him, while their mother cursed him. He thought of Rebekah suffering at Niklaus' hand again and again while Elijah watched on. He thought of Marcel, the boy they rescued and left to Niklaus to ruin. "You have to choose whether you allow yourself to be their mother or a spectator in their upbringing. Choose wisely, and choose quickly, because there are two police officers sixty seconds away from arriving at this door to question you over last night's events."

Tam's eyes widened. "How do you—"

"I just know. Choose, Tam. They have your police records, they know who you are, and they have the power to report you to the relevant bodies. Choose what you want me to help you achieve."

"I can't." Tears welled up in her eyes. "I can't stop this from going wrong."

"Do you want me to? I can make this all go away."

"I ... I don't know. What would you do?"

"This isn't up to me, Tam. Now, tell me—what do you want?"

The door opened, revealing Lex and Dylan. Dylan wandered right in to show his mother the bag of cheetos from the vending machine, but Lex stayed rooted in place, looking down the hall at the approaching police officers.

"That looks yum, baby," Tam told Dylan absently. "How about you go and get some real food with Elijah and your brother, huh?"

"Tam, I can stay—"

"No, Elijah." Tam met his gaze. "I have some things to take care of."

The officers arrived at the door, Lex still staring up at them.

"Tamara Knight?" asked one of them, fingers hooked into his belt.

Lex stepped away from them, back into the room. "Mom?"

"It's fine, sweetie. You're going to lunch with Uncle Elijah while I talk to the officers about last night, okay?"

"Can't I stay?"

"We'll come right back," Elijah assured him. "I swear."

Lex didn't repeat his protests, eyeing the police officers with trepidation as Elijah led him out.

 #

 Lunch was awkward. Dylan picked an ice cream shop that Elijah didn't have the presence of mind to argue against. Lunch became sundaes and being babysat by "Uncle Elijah" turned into an hour long sugar high that Elijah didn't dare bring back to the hospital.

It was Lex's suggestion, going to the park. He seemed to have inferred the need to fill in time, and having Dylan burn off the high was only a positive. Elijah sat on a bench beside a breastfeeding woman while he watched the boys. Dylan raced around the equipment, Lex following him with a watchful eye.

Elijah's phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out, finding himself facing a raunchy selfie of Katerina. He had no idea when she'd had a chance to enter her new number and add a contact photo, and he didn't have the presence of mind to wonder. The woman on the bench beside him must have seen the image, too, as she slid away from him a fraction and tightened her grip on the baby.

So, really, Elijah could hardly be blamed for answering the phone with a curt, "Hello."

"You don't sound as happy about my new contact photo as I thought you would."

"You don't ask for permission as much as I think you should."

"Because it's boring. Where are you?"

"Did Juliana not fill you in?"

"She said something about Maryland, some kid calling you. Care to fill me in? Oh, thank you, Randy,” Katerina cooed, taking a long sip of something.

"You're at the diner."

"And you travelled interstate. Spill."

Elijah hesitated. Trusting Katerina had never ended well for anyone, and he had no intention of falling back into old habits. Had he known Juliana was listening to his conversation the night before, he'd have found somewhere else to talk. As it was, Katerina had caught a scent and she had no intention of letting it slip away. "Can we discuss it when I get back?"

"When will that be?"

"Soon." Elijah got the sense that Tam didn't like having him watch the boys, and if she was doing what he thought she was then how she felt wouldn't matter much longer anyway. "I'll update you when I know more. Things are ... complicated."

"Then tell me. Maybe I can help."

"Not to doubt your skills, Katerina, but I doubt there's anything here that you can handle that I cannot. It's all rather ..." Elijah watched Lex help Dylan onto the see-saw. "Mundane."

Katerina chuckled. "I'll steer clear, then." There was a pause, only the sound of chatter in the diner and wind in the park between them. "You were gone when I woke up."

"I left a note."

"You could've woken me and told me yourself."

"You travelled far enough. You needed your rest."

"How do you know how far I travelled?"

"Your hair smelled like dirt when you first returned. I assumed you wouldn't allow yourself to be sullied unless it was in a remote location, lest someone capture the incident on film."

"The worst of all human inventions.” Another pause. "I hope I don't have to wake up alone for long."

"I'll be back soon." Back. Not home. He didn't say that anymore.

"Promise?"

"Of course. And if you miss me, you can just call."

"Mm. I guess my photo should entice you back on its own."

"That it should," Elijah replied, as though he had no intention of changing it as soon as the call ended. The last thing he needed was one of the boys picking up his phone while Katerina called it. "I look forward to seeing you again."

"You'd better. See you soon."

The indistinct chatter cut off, leaving Elijah with a dead line.

 #

 Walking into the hospital felt more like walking into a morgue. The police cruiser was absent from the parking lot as he pulled on, but the moment Elijah opened his car door he caught a waft of peach perfume and knew exactly what was coming.

Janet was there.

Lex helped Dylan out of his car seat. The toddler's eyes were droopy, his hair slick with cooling sweat at the temples. He was certainly past his sugar high.

"Let's go see your mother," Elijah said, trying (and failing) to get a reaction from one of them. As when they first came by, it was Lex who held Dylan's hand when they crossed the road. Elijah was more of a spectator than anything else as Lex followed the path they'd originally taken, arriving at his mother's hospital room door. It was ajar, both Tam and Janet inside.

"What's she doing here?" asked Lex, eyeing Janet with disdain.

"She's here to talk to us about a few things," Tam replied. She spotted Dylan and opened her arms wide. "C'mere, baby!"

Dylan wandered over to his mother, climbing up onto her bed and settling in along her side. She ran a hand through his damp hair, then looked back at Lex, who hadn't moved an inch.

"Come in, Lex. We need to talk."

"I'll ... give you all a moment," said Elijah, excusing himself. He shut the door behind him and avoided Lex's gaze through the glass as he walked away.

 #

 Two hours later, Elijah was still studiously ignoring the loud conversation he could easily eavesdrop on—Lex was currently accusing his mother of abandonment, and Elijah had no intention of intruding on that difficult moment. He'd visited the billing department to see to things, but that had been irritatingly free of bureaucratic nonsense and concluded in half an hour. Elijah soon concluded that there was only so much time a person could spend in the cafeteria before they lost track of any world that existed beyond it, which was how he found himself staring down at the mimicry of a sandwich before him while the argument on the other side of the hospital reached fever pitch.

"I promise I'll visit you there, Lexi,” Tam was saying. "It's not forever—just for now."

"But you hate Grandma June! You never want to see her—"

"I don't hate her, Lex. She's my mother. We don't always get along, but that doesn't mean you won't."

"We don't even know her."

"You knew her when you were a baby and you loved her. She used to sing you songs and play all kinds of games; you thought she hung the moon. Trust me, Lex. This will be good for you."

"But this is our home ..."

Elijah forced himself to tune out once more, taking a bite of his sandwich. He promptly spat it out, but at least it was distracting enough from the matter at hand to give him a temporary reprieve.

 #

 Tam was discharged by 4pm, as sworn by the medical staff. She enquired about the bills and was informed of their status as paid; something in the way she looked at Elijah told him she wasn't thrilled by his interference. She had bigger things to worry about.

Elijah drove the three of them home after Janet departed. Tam was forbidden from driving while she was on pain meds, though Elijah could tell she hadn't taken any yet. Her shoulder bothered her, but she put on a good show as she tried to get Lex to talk to her.

He wouldn't.

With the boys home and unpacked from their day, Elijah was left at rather a loose end. He quickly got the impression he was an unwelcome hoverer in what was Tam's last few hours with her boys before her mother arrived the next morning, so he made himself scarce.

Surprisingly, the old man running the motel recognised Elijah from his visit several weeks previously. Unsurprisingly, the same room was free, the ice machine was still broken, and Elijah wished desperately he were anywhere else.

Dropping down onto the bed, Elijah checked his phone for messages, finding nothing. He told himself he was waiting to hear from Katerina. He knew it wasn't true.

 #

 Once the blood started flowing, Tam's ex-boyfriend was a screamer. Elijah kept him silent enough.

 #

 Elijah stayed clear of the Knight house the next morning. Tam had his number; she'd call if she needed him. She didn't until late that afternoon, when the sun's light filtered through the motel window and lit up the dust motes Elijah was trying desperately not to see.

"They're gone,” was the first thing she said. "CPS wasn't even involved. I just let her take them."

Elijah paused, waiting for more information. She didn't speak, just breathed heavy on the line. "I'll be there in five minutes," he said, ending the call.

 #

 Elijah arrived in three minutes, wasting no time in letting himself in by the unlocked front door. He flicked it locked behind him and continued, finding Tam at the kitchen table with the remains of what looked like a very depressing lunch in front of her.

"Are you all right?"

Tam didn't speak, just met his gaze with an exasperated look—or as exasperated as it could be while her eyes were so unfocused. Elijah scented the air for alcohol, finding nothing. She must have finally taken her meds.

"You should get some rest," he suggested. "I can find some dinner for when you wake up—"

"I need you to leave."

"Pardon?"

"Leave town," she clarified, struggling up from her chair. "I can't rebuild my life with you looking at me like that."

"Like what?"

"Like you can fix it. It's not yours to fix, and I don't want you here while I do it myself."

"Tam, please, let me help you."

"Why?" asked Tam, words slurring together. "Why d'you care? You drove all the way here from another state to watch my kids. I let you b'cause of what you did f' me, b'cause I trusted you, b'cause I thought nothing could be worse and that anything was better than my mother and you'd just be helpful for a little bit then you go and pay my bills and you're just here all the time and it's ... what do you want from me?" She drew in a breath, stepping back from him a little until her back hit the wall. She hissed at the pain. "Why did you have to kill him?"

"Tamara, what—"

"I know Benny is dead. They found his body in the river. Said it looks like a suicide, but I know better." Her gaze was accusatory, her stance defensive. Perhaps not quite enough for someone accusing another of murder, but still, the judgment was there.

"Tamara, he—he hurt you. He would've hurt your sons."

"You don't know that!"

"I ASKED HIM, Tamara!" Elijah snapped. "I asked him, and he told me everything he did and everything he was going to do. Why would I let him live?"

"His brother's a deputy," said Tam, breathless and wide-eyed. "I could turn you in. You'd never see the light of day again."

"You won't." Elijah tried to sound certain. He could always compel her, but he didn't want to. She'd do what she did, and he would face the consequences.

"Why not? Why shouldn't I? You're a killer, Elijah. I let you watch my children and then you killed a man."

"A man that tried to hurt you."

"That doesn't mean you can kill him!" Tam kicked the back of her foot against the wall, eyes screwed shut. "Just ... leave, Elijah. Please."

"You've been through a lot, Tam. You're angry now, so get some rest. I'll come by in the morning with breakfast—"

"Oh, my god, no. This isn't some trauma response, Elijah. I need you to go."

Elijah drew back, calculating. "I'll be in town until tomorrow morning," he said, deciding as he said it aloud. "If you ask me to stay, I will. But if I don't have a message from you by nine tomorrow, I'll know you want me gone for real."

"Are you always this smothering?" Tam scoffed. "No wonder you don't have a family."

"You're lashing out," Elijah said, rationalising. "I'll take my leave. Please—call me if you need to."

Tam didn't respond, just watched him carefully as he retreated. He could've sworn he still felt her eyes on his back, all the way down the street.

 #

 No call came through from Tam by morning. Elijah didn't know what he'd expected, but the feeling was familiar. First Klaus, then Matthew, now Tam—all making it perfectly clear just how unnecessary he was.

It's unbecoming to pout, he warned himself, schooling his features as he stopped by the front office of the motel to check out.

"Good day for travel," said the old man, taking the key back from Elijah and hanging it on its hook. "You drive safe now, friend."

"Thank you for your hospitality." Elijah swept up his suitcase, not one for wheeling it—there was something plebeian about the movement that he abhorred—and made his way out, stepping lightly over the cracks in the concrete before arriving at his car.

Inside, Elijah paused. His phone burned a hole in his pocket (almost literally, as he'd been informed there was a slight overheating issue he needed to have seen to). Pulling it out, he found the conversation with Katerina and tapped out a message.

Heading back to town.

It took Katerina all of ten seconds to reply. I've always wanted to have a picnic at the gazebo in town.

I know the one. Should be there about 1PM.

Make it 2. You have to stop for food for us.

Elijah snorted. Katerina Petrova did not fill baskets with pastries for outdoors picnics. 2PM it is. I'll see you soon.

And with that, Elijah got on the road.

[kpop-au-s]

COPS AND ROBBERS (CHP.3) ☁️📍

description: you and your partners yugyeom and youngjae have been able to snatch anything you wanted up until now, when a new agent is put onto your case and your friends from the bar help.

characters: mark, jinyoung, jaebum, jackson, youngjae, bambam, yugyeom

eventual pairings: jackson x OC

warnings: angst, fluff, uh cussing, gore, weapons, violence

author: -etoiles

2 / 4

:{——}:

It was funny how running was still the normal. The regular adrenaline rush you felt every night as you ran into houses.

This time you and Yugyeom were together. This was a two man heist. You both snuck through the hall his breath hot on your neck as you peaked around the corner.

And there was the little girl who stood in front of her open door, a fuzzy brown teddy bear in her hands. You grunted at the sight slipping back against the wall and turning to Yugyeom.

Signing to him, you told him about the little girl and his eyes widened. He leant around the corner his body pressed to yours. Sighing quietly you felt him lean back and press himself to the wall.

“Mommy?” The girls voice echoed through the empty hallway. You closed your eyes. When you and yugyeom had searched the house you had found a dead woman on the first floor. A man with a gun in his hands and murder in his eyes. Let’s just say he didn’t last long.

You heard Yugyeom shift in his spot before he spoke quietly.

“We can’t leave her.”

“And we can’t take her.” You argued glancing back in her direction. She was stumbling down in your direction and you groaned at Yugyeom’s pleading eyes.

Sighing you stepped out coming into the girls view.

You flicked your hand to Yugyeom and heard him creep into the room you were planning on stealing jewels from. The door clicked shut and you immediately began speaking to drown out the sound as you crouched down.

“Hey sweetie. Hi.” You saw her freeze in place as her bottom lip wobbled and frantically tried to stop her. “Hey, hey don’t cry it’s okay. I swear everything’s okay. I promise. “

“Where’s mommy?”

“She’s out with your daddy. She’s fine I promise.” You saw her take a tentive step towards you

“Yeah, see everything’s okay. Come on you’re safe.” She ran forward and buried her head in your chest, her breathing loud and quick. “Shh. It’s alright, you’re okay.” You picked her up feeling the bear against your chest as she snuggled further.

“Come on Soul they’re here.” Yugyeom ran out of the room his duffle full and you turned around the kid clutched to your chest. “What do we do?”

“You go out the back I’ll give her to them okay.” You saw him glance at the kid before back to your face and he nodded. He stayed in place before turning around and disappearing.

“We have you trapped come out now and we won’t have to use force.” Tucking your head down you avoided the bright light coming from the helicopter.

“Put the child down and your hands up.” You looked up and saw Jinyoung pointing a gun at you once again. Maybe it was the same gun from last time maybe not. It didn’t matter.

Crouching down you set the girl down, but she screamed and yelled and cried as you tried to tug her off of your body.

“Please, they won’t hurt you I promise.”

“No, no where’s mommy.”

“It’s okay, just go to them I promise they won’t hurt you.” You finally got her to release her grip and wiped the fat tears from her cheeks.

“I want mommy.” You nodded pulling the keychain you had taken from Jinyoung’s keys out of your pocket and making her clutch her tiny fist around it.

“Give this to the man right there okay.” You pointed to Jinyoung and saw all of the men lowering their guns at the sight.

“Please don’t make me.”

“I’ll see you again i promise alright. Don’t be scared.” You saw her take a shuddering breath and nod. She waddled her way to Jinyoung and the men all made a severe mistake. They watched her duck behind the cars.

You spun around, silent, and began running back into the house and through the doors out the back. You met Yugyeom on the backroad and watched the trees speed by as he hit the gas and you both shot away from the scene.

:{——}:

“We just let her go. How? She just slipped through our hands.” Jackson growled rubbing his face with his hands. His whiskey glass was half empty as Jaebum sighed slumping in his seat.

“Well the good news is we’re not dealing with a murderer.” Mark threw the DNA test results into the bar which Jaebum and Jackson instantly began looking at. “The result came back and turns out the father killed her and then he died, my suspicions are she was with someone else because from how he died, which was strangulation it was someone taller than him, she’s shorter than that man.”

“And they just let the kid go.” BamBam spoke spinning to face them in his seat.

“At least they have a bit of humanity.” You rolled your eyes from your spot infront of them your back facing them as you made the extravagant drinks a few guests had asked of Yugyeom.

You were impressed by Mark’s assumptions though. Yugyeom had strangled the guy, but it wasn’t enough to have killed him, just knock him out. You didn’t know why he was dead.

“Maybe a bunch of cops are looking at it like they’re not people. Even… if they’re criminals.” You spoke tipping one of the full glasses to them before handing them to Youngjae who ran off a sly smile thrown over his shoulder.

“You’re too nice. She and whoever she was with, and I’m pretty sure we know who, are criminals.” Sighing at Mark’s remark, you leaned forward a smile slowly forming on your face as the mischievous feeling in your veins grew stronger. You saw Jackson lean forward and smirked before speaking.

“Or maybe they’re for hire assassins and you’re just on their tails to distract you from the real criminal.” You stayed straight face as Jackson looked at you oddly, Jinyoung and Mark sharing a suspicious look.

“Shut up Hansol.” Jaebum groaned as BamBam burst out laughing.

“What?” You protested gasping in fake betrayal. “It could be true, you never know. I mean come on have you ever read a book before. Personally I think that’d be much more exciting than uh… what is she… yeah a jewel theif.” You waved your hand going back to mixing more drinks. “Besides she’s not even your case right? She’s Jackson and BamBam’s, aren’t you on that uh… what’s his name… yug?”

“Yeah, but since they’re now connected we have to work together.”

“You were working together before you knew they were connected.” You looked at him through your eyelashes sensing the lie easily. “There’s another person isn’t there?” You asked faking suprise.

“We’re not talking about this right now.” Jaebum groaned rolling his neck.

“How do you even know so much?” BamBam asked interestedly.

“Psychology major. It’s easy to tell when someone’s lying, besides he’s been coming here for what a year now. He’s easy to read at this point.”

“You becoming a softy?” Jinyoung slapped jaebums shoulder letting out a snort.

“Aish. shut up.” He whined flipping through the pages of the file they had brought.

“Psychology, huh?” Mark asked looking you up and down like the first time you had met.

“Yep, why?” You nodded looking up quickly.

“Deduce something about one of us. Ant of us except Jaebum, you obviously know him well.” You looked up hearing the challenge in his voice as the boys watched.

“Well,” you leaned on the counter throwing your cloth over your shoulder. “You have obvious trust issues, maybe a bit of PTSD from past cases… you don’t trust me all that much. you’re originally from…” You tilted your head slightly looking at his face from a new angle. “L.A. and you are the “hurt no one but take no shit” type of person, except for well criminals.”

You watched jaebum’s face spout into a grin as Mark only squinted his eyes suspiciously.

“You gotta hand it to her she got like 99% of that right.” BamBam spoke sipping his drink.

“How the hell did you get that from just looking at him?” Jinyoung asked his eyes narrowed.

“His hands shake when he isn’t clutching jaebum and Jackson’s seats, his accent has an American hint to it. I lived in LA for three years I know how they speak. He obviously doesn’t trust me with how he never sits when I’m serving you guys also, doesn’t trust anyone else in here except for you guys because he never sits and his shoulders are always tense. And the attitude. He literally told me “they’re criminals” to justify why it was surprising that they let the kid go.” Marks shoulder dipped down and you smirked.

“Hard to keep it up when you’re aware of it right?” He looked down and shook his head pushing himself away from the seats.

“I’m going to the bathroom.” You watched him leave your eyes not leaving his back.

“It was something I said right? Or was it everything I said?” You looked at Jaebum and he smiled.

“Everything. You know not to delve too deep Hansol.”

“It’s fun when they’re pricks who think I’m gonna kill them in their sleep, alright?” You defended holding your hands out.

“He didn’t think you were gonna kill him.”

“Okay maybe not but he didn’t like me from knowing me for only a minute, I like knowing that people judge on appearances and get it wrong while I get it right.” You walked off after that leaving the boys in a confused daze.

[seriouslyblacklikemysoul]

American Ways - Sirius Black x Reader

Request : @claireisreallynotonfire  hello my dear!!! could you do a sirius x reader where the reader is a transfer from ilvermorny in like the 6th year and immediately hits it off with the marauders. and sirius is infatuated with her, always calling her pet names, flirting, hugging, and touching and stuff. and reader just thinks it's a joke but one day sirius gets mad bc she's not taking him seriously ( lol pun ) and they end up together bc i really need some fluff with a teaspoon of angst. thanks love Warnings: My English? Language (always lol). Late night, crappy writing.  The image isn’t mine. Credits to its original owner. Also, I am so sorry for making you wait this long but the new semester has already taken a toll on me.  Word Count: 1848 MASTERLIST Pending Requests

It was one thing being the new student but it was completely another thing being the center of attention. It felt weird and… you kind of felt like you were an exhibit when people would stare or point at you. Yeah, okay, maybe you were the ‘American girl’ and yes, you had an accent and blah blah, but you hoped that after a day or two, they would leave you alone. You were being bombarded with questions about Ilvermorny, about your country, about the male population and so on. Well, that happened until four boys had walked on you and literally grabbed your arms and dragged you all the way to the Gryffindor common room. You were about to protest when you realized that they were doing you a favor. You had grown tired of answering the same questions and being looked at… strangely. So, you never really complained. When they finally let go, you just smiled and greeted them. “Hello, boys. Thanks for the rescue” you simply said. They didn’t expect that-far from it, actually. That’s when you became a ‘gang’ as you named it. They were punks and jerks but they were amazing people and really funny. You had no idea why you hit it off so fast but it felt natural. James was the love-struck one, with his hazel eyes and his messy black hair. Lily-pad, Lily-flower and so on, the poor girl must suffer from those awful nicknames. Remus was the ‘dad’; he was a bit more mature and poised but you could see the mischief in his soft caramel eyes. Peter was the little guy, blushing and being quieter than the others, but he was a Marauder after all. And then, it was Sirius. That guy didn’t know how to talk to a girl without flirting with her. His gray eyes would roam the girl’s body, he would be touchy as fuck when he wanted something, he would use cheesy pickup lines and he would always find a reason to pull off his shirt. He had a nice body, yes, you weren’t blind… you could see it. But it was ridiculous how many times he pulled that damn shirt off. In the brief week, you knew them, it must have been ten times already-and the week wasn’t over yet.  

It was official. Sirius Black was the biggest flirt you had ever known. The guy would flirt with you without hesitation, he would call you names, be touchy even clingy. And today was no exception. You were able to stroll around the castle without getting lost like the first weeks. After all, it was almost Christmas. You had to admit that Hogwarts was breathtaking covered in snow. Everything seemed so magical, so serene and so otherworldly. Ilvermorny might held your mind- your friends were there, your ex-boyfriend, your beloved teachers- but Hogwarts stole your heart. You had made more friends than you could believe. Lily was a Muggle-born, as they called them, but she was the brightest witch of her age and uncommonly kind. That last trait seemed to vanish every time James was around, though. She had admitted that she liked him a lot but she could never agree on a date if he was going to ask her three or more times a day. It was infuriating. You had helped James a lot and for that he was grateful. You had told him to leave her be for a while. It was tough for him and you couldn’t help but chuckle every time he opened his mouth only to close it again and walk away. Lily thought it was strange but she missed his crazy ways-and that’s when you played cupid and informed James. And they had the most romantic date ever. Not thanks to him but thanks to you and strangely enough, Sirius. He could be romantic when he wanted to. But that was a very rare sight to witness. Remus was probably the one you were closest with. He was so kind and sweet but he could be cocky and sarcastic that he could out throne Sirius himself. You had put two and two together relatively easy but you didn’t care. If anything, you wanted to help him in any way you could but you were going to let him tell you, whenever he felt like he could trust you enough to do so. You were in the Great Hall, eating breakfast-well, you were drinking a cappuccino(Dumbledore’s courtesy)- with Remus while you were waiting for the other three troublemakers to appear. It was a cold, breezy morning, but it felt so refreshing you didn’t mind wearing two jumpers. It was just a day before the full moon and he was worn out already but he had his nose stuck in a book, nevertheless. You placed a chocolate bar in front of him and he caught the action as he looked worriedly at you. “Eat. You’ll feel better, Moony” you said, emphasizing his nickname. He was smart and he got it immediately. A relaxed smile was plastered onto his lips as he understood that you weren’t going to go anywhere. “Hello, beautiful” a silky voice greeted you. You didn’t really want to admit it but you were smitten. You truly liked him. You liked his steely gray eyes, his aristocratic features, his tousled dark, long locks, his toned torso and his delicate hands. But most importantly, you liked the real him. Not the flirtatious, cocky jerk but the one you had the pleasure of meeting one very cold and lonely night. You couldn’t sleep and you were sitting by the common room’s fireplace. That night you had seen the real Sirius. The one behind the façade and the masks. The one who suffered the effects of insomnia because of his past, the one who was always too scared that he would lose his friends. That Sirius spoke to your heart. And you found yourself falling… hard. “Hello, handsome” you greeted back with a playful smile. That was just his thing. He would flirt with you but you never thought he meant it. Like, how could he? You had accepted the fact that you didn’t really stand a chance with him. He was out of your league. He could have any girl he wanted and of course, you weren’t one of them. He just played with you-not in a bad way, but still. It was just a game. You couldn’t resist, though. You had to play as well. He sat next to you, his hand resting on your knee and his mouth forming a devilish smirk. He kept his eyes fixed on you until you felt uncomfortable. “You’re staring” you commented, hoping that he will stop playing the damn game. “I’m gazing” he retorted nonchalantly, as he drew patterns with his fingers on your thigh. He had to stop. “It’s creepy” you tried to sound stern but you failed miserably. You smiled and shrugged it off as he whispered under his breath, something you couldn’t possibly believe you had heard correctly. “It’s romantic”. Yeah, you had probably heard wrong. You continued ignoring him and his flirty ways for a couple of hours. You had to give it to him. He had upped his game. Today, he was extra touchy, extra flirty, extra huggy, extra clingy, extra… You tried to make it to your next class in time, he had to carry your books. You tried to eat lunch, he had to pile up your plate. You had forgotten your quill, he had to give you his. Somebody tried to flirt with you, he had to smack your bum- that was the final hit. You were alone in the common room, as it was already after midnight, trying to study. James had fallen asleep holding Lily, Peter was all cuddly with Mary and Remus… well, Remus was actually studying. But you didn’t miss the side looks he was giving you.   When that guy had come up and told you that you looked very beautiful in that jumper, all hell had broken loose. Sirius marked you- yes, he did- as his when you weren’t and you didn’t even have a chance. Once the guy left and you were among friends, you snapped at him and scowled him, waking up the sleepy heads. “How thick can you get?” you questioned angrily but from the looks of it, he was a bit angrier. He stood up abruptly, while the rest of your friends were trying to pretend that they didn’t exist. “How thick can I get? How dense can you be?” he spat at you, his silver eyes twinkling with madness and… desperation? “You know what? Screw it! I don’t want to play your little games anymore, I am so done. I don’t like that you are making a fool out of me every time you are all flirty when you don’t mean it in the first place” you practically screamed at him. His cheeks were red with anger and his pupils dilatated. “You are crazy! You are insane if you think I just flirt with you so I can play. You are delusional if you believe that I am not absolutely infatuated with you and your American ways. You are just stupid if you think that I am playing. I am so fucking in love with you and it scares the shit out of me because I have never- EVER- fallen in love before and I have no idea how to deal with all those damn butterflies- YES, you gave me butterflies, and my stomach flips every time I see you and I-” You grabbed him by his shirt and pulled him close, crashing your lips to his with force. He finally shut it. His hands were wrapped around your waist immediately as he deepened the kiss, biting your bottom lip hard, demanding permission to explore your mouth. Exactly before a moan could escape your mouth, people were fake coughing to make you realize that you weren’t alone. You pulled apart but he didn’t let go. “So, you like my American ways?” you asked softly as you made eye contact with him. He smiled brightly yet seductively and he kissed your cheek. “I do. You know what else I like? Your sweet American ass” he said loud enough for everyone to hear, as his hands slipped down to your bum.  James laughed but Lily called him a perv. You just blushed but you couldn’t really believe that you had kissed him and that he had never played with you. He was being honest and he was showing you all the affection in the world. You had to make it up to him. “Maybe we can continue in my dorm?” he suggested, wiggling his eyebrows cheekily, making you chuckle at his childish action, when three, big, fat, loud no’s were heard. You turned and witnessed three frightened faces looking at you with utter terror. You found yourself laughing along with Sirius and Lily. Yes, Hogwarts had stolen your heart for sure. And you couldn’t love it more

tags: @orionsirivsblack @kapolisradomthoughts @nadinissavage 

[fiveknivesdates]

Starting fires wherever we go

Camilla

The rest of the floors pass in a blur. Shira showed me the training rooms and the cinema, the gardens and the hangars. She even showed me an entire floor that is just a maze. She told me that the Maze can be changed into different settings, like a cave system or city plan.

“Are we done now?” I ask as we enter the elevator again. We had just been inside the hangars, which Shira had told me were the last floor. I couldn’t wait to get my hands on my stuff again, and then go to sleep.

“Not quite,” Shira said with that usual cheer in her voice that reminded me of a more chaotic Erika. “We would be bad hosts if we just let you go to bed without dinner, n’at”

It was the first time I really noticed that Shira had an accent with the slur of words and that. I couldn’t place the origin of her accent. I am only really familiar with the English my mom used when I was younger. I realized that I must also have an accent when speaking English, and it was highly likely that I had inherited my mother’s Italian accent. It made me close my mouth, afraid that Shira or one of the others might suspect that I had deeper roots than just being Danish. Italy was my secret, it was my plan B if everything else failed. I couldn't give that away to any of them, and especially not through something so stupid as an accent.

Shira didn't notice my silence but continued. “I am sure that some of the others will show up, so it’ll be a chance for you to get to know the others”

She looks at me, waiting for something. A reply, a nod of my head, anything to acknowledge what she said. I continue staring ahead, waiting for the doors to open. As soon as they do, I step out into the Kitchen and Common Room. Erika, Zeph, and Aiden are all sitting by a dining table, talking quietly together. A girl that I hadn’t seen before is standing by the kitchen, possibly making the food. Her back is turned to me, but still, I can see something elegant about her, it's in the way she holds herself as if her feet aren't touching the ground. Her hair is such a light shade of blonde that it looks white. She is wearing a white dress with a silver belt, and her shoes look like porcelain. She moves around the kitchen with grace, her pale hands poking around in the cabins

Shira sits down by the table, so I follow her reluctantly.

“What do you think of the Pyramid?” Erika asked. She was sitting in front of me, with her hands folded neatly on the table.

“I like it” I lie. The only thing going through my mind is how much I want to leave and go back to my room.

“That’s good to hear,” She smiles genuinely. “You must be hungry then. Morrigan, won't you tell Camilla what’s for dinner?”

The girl with the white hair, Morrigan, looks over at me with gray eyes, up and down as she judges my worth.

“Pie with roasted chicken on the side,” She said with a smile that showed of her perfect teeth, her face radiating fake all over.

“Dips on the chicken,” Zeph says quickly, eyeing the oven.

“You are disgusting,” Lynn says simply from behind me. I had not noticed him joining us. I looked back and forth at Zeph and Lynn, but none of them said anything further. Morrigan sat the food down on the table and everyone began taking a piece of the pie, except Zeph who only took the chicken.

“Don’t mind Zeph,” Erika said to me, clearly noticing that I was still staring. “The only kind of meat that Zeph eats is chicken.”

“Is it a diet thing?” I ask, mostly to make small talk.

“No,” Zeph cuts in, mouth full of chicken. “It's cause it's fucking delicious”

“You are literally going to die of poisoning,” Lynn said

I looked at Erika for an explanation, but she only shrugged.

The conversation never died at the table. Shira and Aiden talked the most, and they talked loud, laughing and almost choking on their drinks multiple times. Zeph and Erika talked with Shira and Aiden from time to time, but they seemed more interested in asking me questions, all of which I avoided or ignored. Sometimes someone would ask Morrigan a question, and she’d answer politely, still with that edge in her voice. It was clear that Morrigan felt somewhat distant towards the others.

Lynn was situated between Morrigan and Zeph, and he kept glancing over at Zeph and his roasted chicken.

“So Camilla,” Erika started. I tensed, waiting for her question. “How come you are so good at English? Not to be invasive or anything, but you did drop out of school early”

I shrugged, making something up in my mind. “It just came naturally. Maybe it's a power or whatever. How come some of you have accents? Where are you all from?” I narrowly changed the subject and gave myself a mental pad on the shoulder.

Erika simply smiled at me, which didn’t make me feel good. I was beginning to suspect that she wasn't taking me seriously. “Both me and Shira are from America.”

“I’m Canadian,” Aiden said, not hiding the fact that he must have been listening to our conversation. “We are kinda like the American Trinity.”

“I voted for ‘American Gods’,” Shira said. “You know, like the book, but apparently it's an unsaid rule that we should not compare ourselves to gods.”

“But your accent?” I asked Shira, who then began laughing. Zeph and Aiden both joined her, with Erika smiling along and the two others just staring at them.

“Americans have accents. Erika has an accent too, she just hides it” Shira shrieked, trying to stop laughing.

“As if Erika has an accent,” Aiden yelled, “You were fucking unintelligible when we first met you. All yinz and n’that. That! That was an accent like I’ve ever heard one”

“And you don't think you talk a tad bit funny, eh?” Shira teased right back. They continued going back and forth until I realized that I was no longer a part of the conversation I had originally started. I looked down at my food.

“Shira is from Pittsburgh,” Erika told me with her gentle voice. “They tend to talk rather funny there”

“What about the others,” I asked, trying to ignore Shira and Aiden’s loud and friendly bickering. “Where are they from?”

“Morrigan is from Sweden, so don't try to curse at her or anything in Danish. Lynn is from Australia, though I think he might also be Irish, I don't know, he never really talks about it. Adi is German.”

“And what about Zeph,” I asked, glancing over at the guy who was slowly chewing his chicken while smirking at a fuming Lynn.

Erika just shrugged. “Dunno. Somewhere in Europe?”

“Oh,”

“He used to be a Drifter,” Erika said, then explained when she saw my look of confusion. “A Tethered person who isn’t part of the Organization. There are quite a lot of them, actually. They usually operate on their own in territories. Both North Africa, Alaska and parts of India are controlled by other Tethered, which makes it extremely dangerous for us to enter those zones since Drifters tend to be quite territorial.”

“But Zeph was a drifter?” I asked, “For how long?”

“I don't know, like thirty years or something.” Erika wondered. “He teamed up with Javier in like the forties and they both joined the Organization in 1977.”

Everybody by the table went quiet at the mention of Javier’s name, and a few even turned to look over at Zeph.

“Who’s Javier?” I asked, maybe a bit too oblivious about the situation in front of me.

“Javier was the best thing that ever happened to this place,” Zeph said quietly, then laughed and ran a hand through his thick, dark brown hair. “Sorry, I just. I don't know. He died four years ago. Killed.” Zeph said with force. “He was killed four years ago”

I honestly didn’t know what to say. I knew I should properly offer comfort, but I barely knew Zeph nor this Javier.

“I am sorry,” I tried, but even I could hear that I wasn’t, that I didn't really care.

“It's okay, I am fine now,” Zeph said. “I just wish we had found out who killed him and Miriam.”

“It’s not like it could just be anyone,” Aiden said, glancing over at the other side of the table where Morrigan and Lynn were sitting.

“Only Tethered people can kill Tethered people,” Erika told me, trying to put the conversation back on track. “We are immortal unless someone takes our immortality, which takes a lot of power to do”

She clearly failed in keeping the others civil, because Morrigan shot Aiden back with a. “Why are you so quick to make up assumptions?”

“Because you never liked Javier and were clearly jealous of Miriam,” Aiden accused

“You don't know anything,” Morrigan yelled, getting up from her chair. Her silver-gray eyes were blazing with fury. “How dare you accuse me of murder. How dare you say to my face, in front of everyone, that I was jealous of Miriam. Miriam! She was my friend, Aiden, but clearly you don't know what those are, seeing as you always just third wheel on everyone else” Everyone was quiet for way too long. I was about to open my mouth to say something, but then Aiden got up too and said with a calm I knew he was faking. “Thanks for dinner, Morrigan. It’s always a pleasure to hear your opinion”

Everyone followed him with their eyes as he left, his footsteps ringing loudly through the room.

“Morrigan,” Erika said disappointingly. “That was not very nice”

“He had it coming,” Morrigan answered airily. “He should know not to throw accusations around at dinner. Better wait till after dessert with wreaking havoc in the family”

Nobody said anything again. We all continued to eat or dinner and soon we moved onto dessert which was a soft chocolate cake that Morrigan had also made. Her cooking wasn’t anything extraordinary, but still it felt like the best meal I had ever had.

It wasn't until we were halfway through dinner before Shira said “I really hope we have it wrong. That it's not one of us, but someone or something else.”

I fell down onto my bed as soon as we were done. My brain was still buzzing from being around so many new people, and my vision was blurring slightly at the edges. Still, I couldn't sleep. The conversation between the others kept replaying in my mind. If I had understood correctly, two people had been murdered, which meant a murder was on the loose. It seemed kind of unsafe for my well being to stay in a place where there had been two unsolved murders. I knew how hard it was to end someone else’s life and I didn’t trust anyone who could do that to another human being.

I knew I had to leave before it was I who was dead.

Still, I knew I wouldn’t. I didn’t trust a single person here, I knew it was dangerous, knew that I could just leave right now and find someplace in the world, and then live peacefully for hundreds of years, but I was just beginning to learn about this new side of myself that I had never known existed. I wanted so badly to learn how to use my powers, I wanted that rush of power I felt when I was running or when I was swimming. I wanted to feel alive and to feel well, and I suspected this was the only place I might learn how to feel those things.

That’s why I came up with my plan. It is a compromise that will let me stay, while also making sure that I wouldn’t be in danger for longer than necessary.

The plan: Find the murderer. It sounded unrealistic in my own ears, but still, I needed to try. It was the only way my own paranoia would let me stay in this place.

It was the only way I could live with myself.

I closed my eyes. Determined to do this and do it well. I needed all my walls in place, I needed to be able to be objective, to never get too close to the suspects, and they were all suspects. I needed to think quickly, but if there was anything that I was, it was fast. Faster than everyone else.

With my eyes closed, the only thing I could hear was my own heartbeat, fast but steady, never slowing down, never giving up. I heard as much as I felt two screams from far away, and just as the third was about to be unleashed, I woke to the quiet of my new room.

On my bedside table is the book that Shira had given me. A page for each member of this place, a page for the two people who are dead, and quite possibly also a page for the one who killed them. Now I just had to figure you who could have done it <- Previous chapter // Next chapter ->

Chapter index