#You also may be thinking coconut this came out like several days ago

[coconut530]

NO ONE TOLD ME

NO ONE TOLD ME CYBERNAUTICA WAS ENDING SO I LISTENED TO THE NEW EP JUST LIKE ANY OTHER AND THEN LITERALLY JUST

[leascorner]

j.b.b. | Safe [1/3]

Summary: “You keep an eye on her,” he ordered Alpine in a whisper. The cat only blinked at him in return.

Bucky nodded and made his way to the front door. Slowly, he closed the door of his bedroom and got his gun out. He didn’t know who could be at his door at this time of the night, and for a moment, he could only see Tom, being there to finish his work.

Pairing:  Bucky Barnes x f!reader

Warnings: Description of wounds and mention of blood, mention of violence, mention of guns, probably inexact medical facts, mention of alcohol consumptions

Word Count: 4k

a/n: Feedback is greatly appreciated. Next part published on May 29th.

Masterlist / Part 2 >

Something was wrong.

Bucky didn't know if it was the metallic taste in his mouth, the fact Alpine didn't even greet him when he had stepped a foot in his apartment like usual or the electric atmosphere everywhere around him. But all his senses had suddenly awoken. Chills down along his spine, he instinctively reached to the gun at his waistband.

Slowly, Bucky progressed through his apartment. On his left, the kitchen was just as he had left it this morning; his mug in the kitchen sink, pack of coconut sugar near the coffee pot that he did not have time to put away. Clear. He moved to the living room. Alpine was not on the cat tree near the bay window nor on its favorite spot on the couch. The blanket he had slept on last night was still on the floor. Clear. He was now at his bedroom door. The bed was perfectly made, like it had been for a couple of days since he could not bear sleeping on it. He checked underneath the bed, in the closet. Clear.Last but not least, he moved to his en-suite bathroom. The door had been put against the door frame, but it was not closed. It wasn't something that he ever did as Alpine's litter was in the bathroom. He slowly pushed the door open, ready to fight.

What he found in his bathroom was not what he had expected. Agent Y/L/N was standing right there in front of him. Messy hair. Clotted blood all over her nose and chin. Ripped up clothes. Right arm wrapped around her stomach, potentially hiding wounds from the amount of blood on her shirt and keeping pressure on it at the same time. Left arm outstretched and holding a gun. She did not look good.

At the sight of Bucky, Y/N immediately dropped the gun on the counter of the bathroom sink she was leaning against, well aware he was not a threat. She looked deathly pale, ready to pass out at any minutes. Through the fabric of her shirt, Bucky could see the distortion of her right arm; from there, he couldn't tell if it was an open-fracture or a very huge lump. Her left foot was not resting on the floor completely and she had applied a tourniquet a little above her knee to stop the bleeding of what seemed to be a bullet wound. She was gripping the edge of the bathroom sink with her now free left hand, both for support and to get through the pain.

“I didn't know where else to go.”

Her voice was hoarse and low. Bucky could not see if she had bruises on her neck, but he could tell from her voice she had been strangled. She had obviously been beating up, but all he could think about was how - and why- she knew where he lived. He could count with his right hand the number of people that knew his place and it included Sam, his partner, and Sarah, Sam's sister. She sure wasn't one of those.

He searched his bathroom, making sure she was alone, as if he was not aware his bathroom was tiny and that he could see from the doorstep if there was somebody in the shower stall. Clear. He returned his attention to Y/N, still gripped at the edge of the bathroom sink. She must have gone through his stuff as there were a bloody washcloth and a clean towel on the counter near her. A bottle of vodka was there too, for disinfecting her wounds or for pain relief, Bucky wasn't sure. Neither of that he ever needed, it was one of the perks of the super-soldier serum in his veins. Alpine was sat on the toilet seat, eyeing her carefully from afar.

Bucky finally lowered his gun.

“What happened?” he questioned, checking through the small window of his bathroom if he saw anyone suspicious roamed around the neighborhood.

“He figured it out,” Y/N mumbled, so low he barely heard her, but it still got him to look back at her.

  She had been undercover for the past two years, working on breaking up a network of handguns resale for the NYPD. Bucky joined the case only about a year ago when it turned out Tom O’Brien, the boss of the network, was also very interested in the super-soldier serum. Growing closer to Tom, Y/N had found out he was planning on creating new super-soldiers and selling them as lethal weapons to the highest bidders. At that time, Tom had yet to get a hold on the serum and Y/N's mission aim radically changed to gather any information regarding people involved in this new kind of resale.

Bucky had only met her once with Sam. It was in Mexico, last year. Y/N was accompanying Tom's right-hand man to complete a deal with some Mexican gang. They had met at her hotel spa, where Y/N was supposed to have booked a massage session. He had barely recognized her from the picture in her file. She had her hair cut shorter and dyed in lilac color. She was the exact contrary of the frail and fragile person he had imagined her to be. In reality, she was very smart and hard-working. She had let Sam and Bucky know about everything she already knew, and the duo introduced her to some new targets for her to get information on.

The encountered lasted less to thirty minutes and they never met in person again after that. However, Bucky kept an eye on her; he joined the small team that was handling the information she would gather. The team was made of Greg, the inspector in charge of the case; Marco, the IT genius; Larry, whom was an infiltration expert at the NYPD and Faith, a new recruit that came in very handy as it turned out she had an excellent memory and could recall every details in a file after just one read. They were mostly monitoring her whereabouts through CCTV. Her place was also under surveillance; there were mics in every room and a small camera in the living room. Y/N had also put mics at Tom’s places – in his office and his apartment; that was where they were staying the most.

Bucky had spent the last year or so watching or listening to her. In the street, in the train, at home - though she was not home much. There wasn’t a day he hadn’t watched her every move or listen to one of her conversations. As creepy as it may sound, he felt like he had known her for a very long time. He knew she liked to get takeout from that Chinese place near the train station. He knew she didn’t like coffee. He knew the way she would scrunch her nose when she was thinking – yes, he thought it was adorable. He knew she liked her black sneakers – the shoes she would always wear. He knew so much about her and her habits. Like her Starbucks ritual.

Every morning ever since Y/N had been undercover, she would go to the small Starbucks two blocks down from Tom’s place. Marco had hacked the boutique camera so they could watch her. She would usually order anything with tea in it and just stand there, chatting with the bartenders about how their day was going. To others, it looked like a habit of hers. To the team, it was a sign she was still alive and doing well. Sometimes, she would be abroad with Tom, doing god-knows-what, and it was always a celebration when she would be back to her morning rituals. It naturally became the first thing Bucky did in the mornings when he got to the office; get in front of his computer and watch her order tea. He knew it was stupid, and that she was more than capable of taking care of herself, but seeing her, smiling, happy, it made him feel close to her and the lump in his throat – that he recently identified as the fearof anything happening to her – would disappear a little. He cared about her so much that the three months ago, when she ordered an expresso instead of her usual tea, Bucky had to break protocol just to make sure she was okay. He had called her from a phone booth on her cell phone and made up some shitty story of being an old friend trying to reconnect. Only for her to laugh at him because she had recognized him, but she still played along. In the end, she simply hadn’t been sleeping alright and needed something to get going in her day. Sam made fun of him for days after this incident, but all that really mattered to Bucky was to know she was safe.

Tom was no angel; he was even the complete opposite, known by everyone to be pitiless. Bucky didn’t know what Y/N did to earn Tom’s trust. All he knew was that it was not romantic, nor sexual in any way, but Tom still had taken her under his wing to work for him. She truly worked wonders but also took a major risk for her life. A step wrong and he would end her like she was nothing. And all this time, she had been doing an amazing work. The amount of information she got back to the team was huge. They identified a super-soldier resale network taking place on several continents. They were just a few weeks away – days even, of the biggest good catch in the NYPD history.

Bucky and Sam had made arrangements to get her safe as soon as it was all over and planned for her to take out into the countryside before the Tom’s trial at which she would be the main witness. She would be freed of her character; she would finally be herself again. And Bucky could not wait to know the real her.

  “How could he have known?" Y/N asked more to herself than anyone else. She had gone back to whatever she was doing before Bucky went home; that was to say vigorously trying to remove the dry blood spread out all other her face. "I know he wasn't suspected a thing. Tom is not that smart. He knows his business, but he is oblivious to anything else. He didn't even know about the mic in his office.” She stopped, having a moment of clarity, realizing Tom must know now.

“We’ll worry about that later.” Bucky interrupted her. The more blood she was getting off her face, the paler he realized she was. He was pretty sure she had lost a significant amount of blood, but she was still talking and sort-of standing so he knew it was not that bad. He also knew it could worsen very quickly and that her right arm and left leg most certainly required medical attention. “We need to go to the hospital," he insisted.

Y/N did not even look at him and continued to talk to herself. “He knew my real name; it can only come from us.” She kept repeating ‘it can only come from us’ over and over, while washing her face. Bucky was not sure what that was supposed to mean because all he could see was how red the white washcloth nowwas, and how he could see all the scratches appear on her face. Her right eyebrows arch. Her left cheekbone. Her lower lips. He wondered how Tom, or whoever she had fought with, was. He wondered how she could have gotten away and made it to his place; she could have been anywhere, but she still chose to cross all Brooklyn to seek refuge to him. And he still wondered how she could have known where he lived.

Y/N hissed and threw abruptly the washing cloth in the sink, making Bucky look back at her. She was now eyes closed, her left hand holding her right elbow to keep her arm in place, repeatedly counting to ten to get through the pain. She must have had moved her right arm too much. Bucky didn’t know what was going on in her head, what she was even doing here. He knew she was more than capable of doing it herself, taking care of herself without help, but since she was there and he was there, he was going to help her.

“Let me see,” Bucky ordered.

Y/N slowly turned to him to allow him access to her shoulder. Bucky delicately lifted the cloth off her body to have a closer look. She yelped out in pain when his metal fingers got in contact with her skin, palpating her shoulder to understand what was going on.

"Dislocation." Y/N stated, already fully aware of what he just had deduced and of what he was about to do. "Please do it quickly," she whispered.

Bucky nodded and abruptly pulled on her right arm in a certain direction. The sound of her arm bone getting back in the joint made Alpine hiss; the sound was as uncomfortable to hear as it must have been for her to feel. In the contrary, Y/N did not make any sound; her left hand was gripped on his right arm, nails digging into his skin. Her eyes were still closed, and her eyelashes were wet. Whatever the amount of Vodka she had drunk it obviously had not been enough for her not to feel the pain. Bucky wished he could have taken it all away for her and cursed himself for not having any painkiller in his damn apartment. It had been a long time since he had felt any physical pain; all he felt now was brief discomfort whenever he would get injured thanks to the serum in his veins, but he knew – he remembered, deep in his guts – what it was like, and he didn’t want anyone feeling that. Especially not her.

“I am sorry,” Bucky said, brushing tears off her cheeks with his metal fingers.

Her breaths were shaky and her breathing rate erratic, as Bucky slowly bent her elbow to have her arm rested against her chest. He was trying to be as gentle as possible while manipulating her arm, remembering his own memories of what happened to his own left arm. The same memories that sometimes still kept him awake at night, even after all those years.

When he looked back at her, her eyes opened to look at him in return. Bucky could see all the details of her iris and he realized how close he was standing from her. This was what he had stupidly craved for so long, to breathe the same air as she was, and that was how life gave it to him.

“I'll get you cleaned up and changed, okay?”

She nodded, releasing his arm from her hold. The idea of bringing her to the hospital had completely disappear from Bucky’s mind. He would take care of her himself, he knew this was the right thing to do, but he would still have 911 dialed on his phone, ready to call anyway.

  Bucky started by getting back to his bedroom to pick from his closet a T-shirt and one of the few scarves he owned. When he got back into the bathroom, Y/N was standing against the sink counter and Alpine was sat on the counter just at her side, looking up at her, purring. Though it surprised him – Alpine wasn’t very fond of people just like he was, he noticed how the purring was calming Y/N down.

Bucky left his clothes on the next side of the counter and stood in front of her, wondering what he should do first. “I need to take it off,” he said, pointing to her shirt.

Y/N nodded again, and he started unbuttoning it. He discovered a lacy nude bra underneath, something he never thought he would see, but he purposely chose not to think about it and remove her left arm sleeve first; it was then easier to remove the right arm sleeve without moving her injured upper limb much.

She stood there, in her jeans and bra, looking up at him. She could have done something, but she just stayed still, letting him take care of her, like she knew he had done all those months when he was looking out for her. Though tonight, he clearly failed.

Bucky tried to ignore the fuzzy feeling in his chest by focusing on cleaning some dirt off her collar bone with another washcloth he had took from the cupboard underneath the sink. He then had a look at her cut on her stomach; the wound did not look as bad as he thought. Though it went from her right side to nearly the other side and Bucky knew it would leave a nasty scar once it had healed, it was mostly superficial. He gently cleaned it, removing the dry blood, and looked back at her. She nodded again, understanding without a single word was he wanted to do, and Bucky reached to the bottle of alcohol. She grimaced when he pressed a cotton pad soaked in the liquid to her skin.

After disinfecting her wound, he helped her put his T-shirt on and improvised a sling for her right arm with one of his scarves. He made sure not to tug on her hair when he tied the scarf around her shoulder, while she observed his every move in silence. Bucky smiled softly when he realized his T-shirt was way too big for her. Even looking like terrible, she was still looking cute.

  Once he was done with the sling, Bucky moved to the lower part of her body. He squatted down, to remove her shoes and unbutton her jeans. Before getting her pants off, he needed to remove the tourniquet. He silently prayed all the gods in the universe to not make her bleed out and it seemed for once, they had listened. By some kinds of miracle, the gunshot wound was not bleeding anymore so he continued and slowly removed her pants. Shivers run through her body at the contact of his fingers on her skin.

Bucky repeated the same actions as he did for the wound on her stomach: cleaning and disinfecting. Thankfully the bullet had gone straight through her outer thigh and didn’t touch any artery. She got lucky, a few millimeters down and it would have shattered her knee. The hole was quite big, and it would probably require stitches to heal properly, but for now, he would leave it in the open air.

Once he was done, Bucky got up to face Y/N again. She was now standing there in her underwear and his oversized black T-shirt. “Thank you.” Was all she could say.

Bucky softly looked back at her. “I’ll get you lay down, okay? You need to rest.”

She nodded again and took the hand he was offering her for support. He helped her walk to his bed, Alpine following close behind. Y/N was limping as she couldn’t let too much of her weight resting on her left leg. It took her a good three minutes to walk a total of six steps, and Bucky reallywondered how she had made it to his place. He made her sit on the end of the bed, while he removed the comforter for her to lie down.

“Did you hit your head?” She looked at him confused, instinctively touching her face as if it was going to help her understand what he was talking about.

“I need to know if you have a head trauma,” Bucky said before helping her move to the spot he had prepared for her.

“I can recall all the potato chips flavors you have in your kitchen cupboard – who even eats salt and vinegar chips?” She laughed at him slowly as he lifted her legs off the floor and put them under the comforter. When he looked at her and she saw the concern still on his face, she insisted: “I am fine.”

“Alright, missy,” he mocked her in return, putting the comforter up to her chest, carefully of not touching her right arm. “For your information, salt and vinegar flavor is the best chips flavor.” She chuckled in response, settling more comfortably into his bed, and smiled as Alpine lie down on the other pillow next to her. Short after, she was closing her eyes and falling asleep.

  For a couple of hours, Bucky stayed there, sat against his nightstand, listening to Y/N’s breathing, and making sure she was still alive. She had not moved one muscle, caught up in one of those dreamless sleeps he always wished for before falling asleep. He should have tried to get some sleep too, but instead he couldn’t stop thinking. How had Tom known? Y/N was right, Tom hadn’t suspected a thing and nothing unusual had happened these past few days. Y/N and Tom were preparing for their first super-soldier serum delivery and Bucky and the team had been busy preparing their good haul – the grand finale as Macro was calling it. There was no way Tom would have discovered the truth on his own; someone must have told him. But who?

A sharp knock on his front door brought him back to reality. His breath caught up in his throat and he looked at Y/N, just to make sure she was still asleep. Alpine, in the other hand, was now wide awake, listening carefully to what was going on. Another knock on the door and Bucky slowly got up.

"You keep an eye on her," he ordered Alpine in a whisper. The cat only blinked at him in return.

Bucky nodded and made his way to the front door. Slowly, he closed the door of his bedroom and got his gun out. He didn’t know who could be at his door at this time of the night, and for a moment, he could only see Tom, being there to finish his work.

Another knock on the door. Bucky removed slowly and as silently as he could the safety lock of his gun, ready to shoot. When he got to the door, he cleared his throat, trying to sound as normal as possible. “Who is it?”

There was some talking that Bucky couldn’t really understand through the door as the sound was muffled. It took a few seconds to realize who that was, put the safety lock on his gun again and open the door.

“Sam?”

His partner, Sam, entered the apartment as soon as Bucky opened the door, shouting: “Can’t you answer your damn phone! I’ve been trying to reach you all night.” Sam thrown, looking at Bucky, with a gun in his hands, who was checking the rest of the floor to make sure Sam was alone. “What are you doing?”

Bucky locked the door behind them and moved past Sam to open the bedroom door, showing him the person still fast asleep in his bed.

“Oh, thank god.”

Sam’s face lighted up when he saw Y/N asleep in his friend’s bed. He moved closer to the bed, eyeing her to assess her injuries and making sure she was alive. Alpine got up to greet him and Sam offered some strokes to say hello. When he was done, he got back to Bucky at the bedroom doorstep and Alpine laid down near Y/N again.

“How did you get her?”

“She was there when I got back. I had to clean her up with Vodka and I didn’t even have any band-aids and-”

“Hey, it’s alright.” Sam put a hand to his friend’s shoulder, trying to ground him in the present moment and stop the wave of panic that was starting to shake him. Bucky took a deep breath, nodding. “She is alive, that’s all that matters.”

[sincerelyella]

Everything Has Changed Chapter 9 - Butterflies

Book: The Royal Romance (AU)

Song Inspiration: Butterflies by MAX & Ali Gate

Pairings: past Liam x MC (Ella); Drake x OC

Characters belong to Pixelberry; MC Ella Brooks belongs to me

Summary: What if Liam was promised as a child to another kingdom’s princess?

A/N: Sorry for this taking forever guys, thanks for pestering me about this chapter!

Catch up here -> EHC masterlist

Thank you @ofpixelsandscribbles and @alyssalauren​ for prereading! Y’all know I get nervous before posting anything. Love you!

Warnings: Angst; fluff

Words: 1428

I won't stop getting butterflies, I get 'em every time I look into your eyes

You won't stop running through my mind, For the rest of both our lives

You give me butterflies

Liam, now 13 years old, was introduced to the court as the Prince of Cordonia. His father insisted that a ball needed to be thrown and whatever Constantine wanted, he got. Liam spoke with some of the court with his father and then sat in the corner of the ballroom and played a dice game with Tariq. Now and then, he would look up and try to find 10-year-old Ella in the crowded room. She was with her parents that night and wore a royal blue floor-length gown with tulle and a rhinestone belt that shone in the bright lights. She’s really pretty.

“Hello? Earth to Liam! It’s your turn,” Tariq pushed the dice into the young prince’s hand. “Who are you staring at?”

“Nobody,” he mumbled and tossed the dice against the wall. 

The boys played for a few moments until Liam heard a little voice.

“Prince Liam.”

He looked up and saw Ella smiling down at him. “Hello, Princess.”

Ella playfully curtsied. They both giggled.

“May I dance with the Prince of Cordonia tonight?”

“I suppose I have time,” he turned to Tariq. “See you later, my friend.”

Tariq waved at both of them and the two turned and walked towards the dance floor.

Ella’s little arm was curled through Liam’s. “So, are we doing the Flamingo?”

Liam let out a loud laugh. “Our parents would not find that appropriate.”

They turned to face each other, Liam putting his hand on the small of her back and holding her right hand in his left. As soon as the Prince and Princess began to glide across the dance floor, the entire court stepped back to watch them. Royalty was always expected to learn to perfect the art of dance at a young age, but these two held everyone’s attention. They danced like grown adults that had been doing this for years.

“Everyone is staring at us,” Ella whispered as she gazed into Liam’s eyes.

“No, they’re staring at you,” Liam had always noticed Ella’s almond-shaped, light brown eyes, how they lightened under the sun, how they darkened and turned almost grey when she cried. This time, however, her eyes were almost green. Liam felt a fluttering in his chest, then it moved to his stomach. Am I hungry? He had never felt this sensation before. “Did you know that your eyes change colors?”

Their movements were practiced and natural, elegant in every way. They didn’t even need to think about what came next, their bodies already in sync. Ella shook her head. “Nobody has stared at my eyeballs long enough to know.”

Liam chuckled softly. “Well, they do. They’re really pretty - you’re really pretty.”

Ella bit her bottom lip. “Thank you, Prince Liam.”

“I’m not telling you as a prince, El,” Liam swallowed nervously. “I mean, I am. I think you’re beautiful,” he stammered. “But I’m also telling you as a boy. As Liam.” The fluttering was back, this time he felt it everywhere, his chest, his stomach; he felt the tingling in his fingers as he held her hand, emptiness when she let go of him to twirl under his arm.

“You’re very sweet,” Ella’s cheeks turned a rosy pink color. “Thank you, you’re very handsome too.”

Present-day

Liam and Ella stared at each other - both trying to decide if this was real or just a dream. He felt the butterflies flutter in his chest just like he did the first time he danced with her all those years ago.

Liam was the first to break the reverie and took a tentative step forward. “Can we … talk?” He was overcome with emotion but kept his stoic facade in place.

Ella nodded, unable to form words.

Liam quickly took her hold of her arm and gently led her to the VIP area where it was darker and a bit quieter. Security let the two by and Liam slid towards the back of the booth, Ella following.

They turned to look at each other and began talking at once.

“Are you here?” “Oh my God, it’s you!”

Liam couldn’t help himself, he had to touch her. He still got butterflies when he looked at her. Even when they were kids, the love he felt never went away. If anything, it got stronger as the years went by. Liam gently cupped her cheek and he let out an audible gasp. “You’re real,” he whispered.

Ella leaned into his hand, relishing in how her feelings for him came back all at once; it hit her like a freight truck. When she locked eyes with him by the bar, her heart stopped for a moment. “I’m real,” she whispered back.

“Where … have you … been? I looked … for you,” Liam was crying now, a slow, steady stream of tears trickled down his cheeks. Four years. Four years of missing her, afraid for her, not knowing where she was. Almost believing that she had died with her family.

Ella’s cheeks were already wet with her tears; she could barely speak. “We … were attacked,” she closed her eyes to try to keep her breathing normal but she couldn’t.

“Shhh,” Liam whispered as he leaned in to kiss his long-lost love. The salt from their tears mixed when their lips met; it was like everything they both had endured in these four years apart was worth it. Liam pulled back and wiped her tears away with his thumb. “What happened, Ella?”

“They took … over our kingdom. Killed … my mom,” Ella cried. “My name is … different … for protection.”

Liam put his forehead against hers and they stayed that way for several minutes. Both crying, both trying to get their emotions under control, otherwise this conversation would never happen.

“What is your name now?”

Ella gave him a small smile. “My name is Ellie Wheeler.”

Liam sat back and held out his hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Ellie, my name is Liam.”

Ella let out a giggle and put her hand in his. “The pleasure is all mine.”

Liam softly kissed her knuckles and took in her scent. The coconut and lavender instantly hit his brain and he felt drunk off of it. “So, Ellie, you’re here in L.A., what about your kingdom?”

“Hey!”

The two turned to see Riya staring at them with an arm in the air. “What are you doing in there, El? And who is that?!”

“Is that your friend?” Liam noted that he saw her at the bar, in her red jumper.

“Oh, yes that’s Riya,” Ella waved and Liam nodded to security that it was fine to let her in. Drake, who was still at the bar looking for Liam, heard what was going on and made his way to the VIP section.

Riya huffed and placed her hands on her hips. “You ditched me to hang out with” - she motioned to Liam - “this snack?!” She studied him intently, then her eyes widened in shock. “Oh my God, you’re Liam!”

“Brooks?!” Drake exclaimed from behind Riya as he stared in shock.

“Hey, Drake,” Ella grinned sheepishly.

“Why is he calling you Brooks?” Riya demanded.

“Who are you?” Riya and Drake had turned to face each other as they spoke at the same time.

Liam stood from his seat and waved his hands in the air. “Okay, timeout! There’s a lot of explaining to do. Can you both please sit down?” He gestured for them to join him “They have the same scowl and both are drinking whiskey,” Liam whispered to Ella quickly before their friends slid into the booth.

Ella clapped a hand over her mouth to stop her giggles.

“Okay,” Drake quipped as he set his tumbler down onto the table. “So, what’s going on?”

Ella explained what happened at the palace four years ago, how her father’s men had tried to kill her family, taken over the country, and that she fled to California with her dad.

“Damn, I’m so sorry about your mom, Brooks,” Drake lifted his glass in the air as a salute and knocked it back. “Alright, so is the arrangement off then?”

Ella’s nose crinkled. “Arrangement?”

Liam’s eyes showed remorse as he turned to look at Ella. “Ah, well … I have something I need to tell you.”

[hotpinkhoshi]

kiss it better | three

pairing: mark tuan x reader

genre: angst, smut, brother’s best friend au (sort of)

warnings: age gap (nine years), cursing, explicit sex, slow burn

summary: you were off limits for more reasons than mark could count. but everything changed for him the day you walked into his tattoo shop with those big innocent eyes and a laugh like his favorite song. he couldn’t. he wouldn’t. and yet…

a/n: hi everyone! thank you for being so patient with me for this chapter! if you follow me i’ve mentioned a few times that i’m struggling with writer’s block these days, but i’m pushing through it. i hope you guys like this chapter and if you have any questions or feelings pls don’t hesitate to let me know! 

✩ index here ✩

In his thirty years and some odd months of life, Mark had learned one unquestionable thing about himself.

He liked to be alone - in all senses of the word. 

In his experience, nothing good could come from allowing anyone past your emotional walls. If he was alone, he was safe. No one could hurt him without his permission. But he’d be lying if he said that having you around wasn’t like a sliver of sunshine peeking over those walls he’d built brick by brick. 

Milo loved you, and another thing he’d learned in all of his wise years was that if his dog liked you, then you were alright. The moment you walked through the door that first morning, Milo had been at your heels, sniffing and licking your shins affectionately. So, one point in your favor.

Mark slept in most mornings since he wasn’t needed at the shop until eleven, so by the time he woke up you’d been up for hours. You took it upon yourself to clean, organize, and revive the dullness of Mark’s apartment. Another point for you. 

You spent most evenings at the dingy diner you worked at until nearly midnight. When you came home, Mark’s usual spot was on the couch, with Milo on his chest and a de-stressing round of Overwatch on the TV. 

For the first few nights, you all but scurried past him to the bedroom to quickly change for bed and then he didn’t see you at all for the rest of the night. He could tell you were doing everything you could to practically be invisible - so different from the fiery girl that had rolled her eyes at him and called him an old man. 

“Y/N,” he called to you the next night when you arrived home from work. He caught you just before you went down the hallway. 

“Yeah?” you said meekly, turning on your heels to face him. 

Mark sat up further, arms holding Milo on his lap. Even your body language seemed like you wanted to disappear. Your arms were behind your back as you stood straight, hands clasped like a servant. 

“You know you don’t have to hide, right? You live here. You can watch TV or have a friend over, or whatever you want.” 

He could see the hesitation in your eyes, like you didn’t quite believe him. He just wanted you to feel at home; something unfortunate had clearly happened before you moved to Seoul. It wasn’t his place to pry or ask questions, but he wanted you to feel comfortable. 

“I… it’s okay, really.” You chewed at your lip, eyes on the floor. 

Mark sighed. “Y/N, just come sit and watch TV with me. No excuses.”

“I should really-”

Milo barked, high pitched and sudden. He was looking at you expectantly as if he was also joining in on the debate. 

“See?” Mark asked. “Milo wants you to hang out with us.”

Mark watched as your features softened bit by bit until you caved. “Okay. I just need to go shower and change, though.” You tugged at your plain black polo that you were forced to wear for work, a little baggy around your figure which made him wonder if the shirt was too big or if you’d lost weight. 

It wasn’t his business, not really, but he still felt this pull to you, towards taking care of you like your parents had done for him. They had saved his life and he’d always been so sure he would never be able to repay them - until now. 

Half an hour later, Mark looked up to find you coming out of your room, no longer in your stuffy uniform but in something more comfortable. Quite comfortable. A pair of shorts and a tank top that was loose on your shoulders, revealing your collarbone and smooth shoulders still glistening from your shower. 

“Hey, can you look at this?” you asked as you sat down next to him on the couch, angling your body so that he could see your tattoo. You slid the strap off your shoulder and pulled your damp hair to the side, revealing the intricate purple flower to him. 

Mark found his throat going a bit dry for some reason, seeing your bare skin like this, smelling the scent of your coconut shampoo. In his defense, it had been a long time since he’d seen this much skin in the flesh outside of the tattoo shop - female skin, to be specific. It was a shock to his system, that’s all. 

“It really itches. Is that normal? I can’t get a good look at it,” you told him, tucking your chin over your shoulder to look back at him. “I’ve been good with the ointment, I swear.”

Staring down at his own design, Mark brought a tentative hand up to your shoulder, tracing his index finger over the lines he’d created. It hadn’t healed completely yet, and it was beginning to shed the top layer, so he could still feel the ridges under the pad of his finger. 

“The itching is normal,” he said, after clearing his throat. “As the tissue heals, it’s trying to repair itself and prevent infection. So that causes itching, kind of like when you get a scab. If it continues for a few more days or starts to hurt, just tell me. It looks like it’s healing well, though.”

You nodded. Mark noticed you didn’t turn away yet, not until his eyes flicked up to meet yours. He had never been this close to you. Had you always had that freckle above your lip? And he’d never noticed the little scar above your eyebrow either, just a little nick that was probably from a tumble you’d taken as a child. 

And he realized with a start that you had been a child not so long ago. It may have been ten years ago, but he still vividly remembered your gangly limbs and braces from when you were twelve. You were Taehyung’s kid sister, and there was no good reason for him to be tracing over your shoulder and going dizzy from the smell of your shampoo. 

Milo saved the day, wedging himself between your bodies until he settled upon your lap, curling into a tiny fur ball. Mark laughed, grateful for the break in the tension. You giggled and sat back against the couch, cradling Milo in your arms. 

“So, what are we watching?”

— — —

And thus began a new routine. 

In the morning, you still woke up earlier than he did. You still made breakfast, except now you waited until just before Mark woke up so that he could start his day with the scent of eggs and bacon as it sizzled in the frying pan. And instead of leaving it on a plate to warm in the oven, you actually sat with him to eat. 

He learned a lot about you. There were still many blanks and question marks but slowly, you revealed little bits of yourself that almost made him feel like he knew you. Not kid you, real you. The woman you’d grown to be in the last several years. 

You were timid, as a whole, but he could see that part of you was slowly beginning to melt away. Once you warmed up to him, he found that you actually had a lot to say. 

Mostly about the food he ate. 

“Mark, that is not a lunch.”

You stood with your hands on your hips, watching with a frown as he grabbed a granola bar out of the pantry and tucked it under his arm along with the flimsy sandwich that he’d thrown together. He wasn’t picky, he just had simple tastes. When you grew up lucky to get two meals in your belly in a day, it made you realize food was just something to keep your body moving. 

“Huh? This is fine. It has nuts in it,” he told you, holding up the granola bar. “Nuts are healthy.”

By the way your lips pursed together, he could tell that you weren’t appeased by that. “At least take an apple with you, they’re fresh.”

Mark humored you at least, grabbing an apple before he was on his way. As he was grabbing his wallet and keys, he had to press his lips together to hide the half smile fighting its way onto his lips. 

— — —

You tried not to think about it. Really, you did. 

It was your day off, so after Mark left, you tackled your first load of laundry since moving in. It had been piling up ever since you were staying in the hostel, where half the laundry machines were almost always taken and the other half were out of order. 

Once you had thrown your clothes into the washer, you tidied up your room. It was a small room, one you suspected was actually meant for a child when the apartment was built - but it was enough for you. More than enough. 

It didn’t take long for you to clean up the room, putting away any clothes you hadn’t folded and put into your drawers just yet. It was silent in the apartment, leaving you only with your thoughts. 

You wondered what Mark was doing. It was nearing noon by now, and he’d mentioned he had two back to back appointments. It didn’t leave him with much time for a meal… not that he’d brought one with him, anyway. 

It wasn’t like you were doing anything. It wouldn’t hurt to throw something together for him quick, and run it down to the shop, would it? Honestly, it was the least you could do. He was allowing you to live in his apartment, rent free, not asking for a single thing in return. 

You found yourself in the kitchen, rifling through the cabinets to see what exactly he had on hand. Not much, you realized. From what you could tell, he lived mostly on take out and the occasional instant meal. Luckily, you found some vegetable broth and enough spices to scrounge together a stew. You’d bought some short ribs the other night, planning on making something delicious over the weekend as a thank you to Mark. 

You’d always loved cooking. Ever since you were a child, it was the one thing you could share with your mother. She wasn’t a cold woman, but she wasn’t one for many words. You never laid your head on her lap and confessed your worries while she played with your hair, or cried in her arms when you were upset. Instead, you cooked. 

If you came home from school, eyes wet with tears, your mother wouldn’t say a word - she would simply fire up the stove and list the ingredients for you to gather from the refrigerator. The only sound while you cooked besides that of the sizzling pans and bubbling broth was the humming - a soft, wordless tune that even now, you could hear in the back of your mind. 

You moved quickly, more confident in your steps than you had been in months. For just a moment, it felt like you were home again. 

— — —

Clutching the paper bag in your hands, you looked up when you heard the ‘ding’ of the bell above your head, signaling your entrance into the tattoo shop. It was noticeably more lively than it had been during your first visit - three young boys were sitting on the couch, flipping through a binder of tattoo designs and exclaiming over each one. 

In the back, you could hear the metallic buzz of a tattoo gun. Dahyun was at the counter with another customer, a girl your age deciding between several types of facial piercings. The former looked up as you entered, offering you a smile when she recognized you. 

“Ah, Y/N!” 

You returned her smile and gave a polite nod. “Hello,” you replied, unable to help but glance around, looking for Mark. It was as if he sensed your presence - no less than five seconds later, he was emerging from one of the rooms down the hallway and coming towards you. 

“Y/N?” he asked, eyebrows furrowed. 

Mark ran his fingers through his hair, pushing it out of his face. He was in the same outfit you’d seen him in earlier, a black top and jeans with a blue flannel. Except now he’d taken the flannel off, revealing the toned, tattooed skin of his biceps underneath. 

You tore your eyes away from his muscular arms and stared up at him, swallowing the dryness from your mouth. “Hi.” 

“What’s that?” he asked, jutting his chin towards the bag in your hand. 

You had to glance down to remember what you’d brought with you. Sticking your arms out towards him, you pressed the bag into Mark’s chest. 

“Food,” you answered simply.

Mark rolled his eyes, though you noticed the smile tugging at his lips. “Ah, you really didn’t have to. I told you, I’m alright.” 

You huffed. “It’s real food, not granola or whatever greasy meal you were planning on ordering. Short rib soup. And rice.” 

Mark took the bag, unfolding the top to investigate its contents. He blinked a few times before looking up at you, an unfamiliar expression on his face. Almost like he was touched, but you couldn’t quite understand why. It was just food. 

“I was going to make it anyway, this weekend-” you started. 

“Thank you,” Mark told you, voice surprisingly sincere. It made you feel as if there was something in between the lines, something you couldn’t put your finger on. “Is it… your mom’s recipe?” 

He asked the question slowly, carefully. Mark was a smart man, you knew he’d picked up on the tension between yourself and your family, yet he never pushed. He avoided the topic, and never pried when you mentioned them off hand. 

You swallowed thickly, then nodded. “Yeah.” 

Mark’s face softened as he looked at you. Just as he took a step closer, Dahyun’s voice broke the bubble that had apparently been surrounding the two of you for the last few minutes. 

“Hey, what are you doing tonight?” 

Dahyun was looking between the two of you with a very interested stare, a knowing smirk on her lips as she ignored the customer she’d been helping. 

“Nothing, why?” you asked, a bit hesitant. You were off work, and Yerin was pulling an extra shift at the restaurant tonight. She was your only friend, so it left your night wide open. 

“Well,” Dahyun said, leaning her chin upon her hand. “We were going to go bowling tonight with a couple of other people, and we need an even number. If you came, it’d be perfect. Yugyeom’s girlfriend bailed, something lame about a massive nursing exam tomorrow.” 

Mark sighed. “You really don’t have to - it’s fine.” 

“I’m really bad at bowling…” you said, already preparing your polite rejection. 

“So is everyone else,” Dahyun replied. “I mean, Mark’s good. And Jackson pretends he is. But mostly we just get drunk and make fun of ourselves.” 

Your instincts were telling you to say no. Your social circle, even at home, had been very small. Large group settings weren’t your thing, especially with strangers. But you’d decided as soon as you moved to the city that you would try every new thing you could. 

“You should come,” Mark offered. When you looked at him, he was chewing at his lip, but he offered you an encouraging smile nonetheless. “If only for the entertainment of watching Jackson lose his mind every time he bowls a gutter ball.” 

This was what you’d come here for. You’d left your life behind, everything you knew, so that you could live. You couldn’t do that if you refused to step outside of your comfort zone any time an opportunity presented itself. 

Besides, if you could get a tattoo, surely you could handle a little drunk bowling. 

“Okay,” you finally agreed. “I’ll be there.” 

[calypsoff]

Thirteen.

Staring off into the thin air, I am in stuck in the third meeting this week about my album rollout, which is great, and I am used to it but I have been meaning to see Chris now that he has moved to Texas, I promised him I would and then something comes up. Chris moved pretty quickly, he went back to Virginia and then up and left, he let his parents sell the apartment and he got the money for it, but I miss him so much. We are in April and we saw each other in February, I am annoyed. I have been in Barbados for most part but then I had to come to California, the album is done but we are trying to get the rollout of it done perfectly. I am annoyed because I like to live up to my promises and I am not, I keep saying this week, and then the week after. It’s a mess, I want us to work so much but how can I leave a man without sex and without me for all this time. It’s too long, it does worry me so much because it’s been so long “so Rihanna, what we are proposing on the dates from the forth May, seven days, seven countries, seven shows. Inclusive for fans to tour with you but also see these private shows, just fans. This is all fan based” shaking my head “I am busy on that day” I think the fuck not, that is Chris’ birthday and I will not miss his birthday for anything “album rollout is during then Rihanna what do you mean you are busy?” Jay Brown is being dead ass “it’s my boyfriend’ birthday. I need to spend time with him” Jay Brown chuckled “right, so you held off recording because of that and now this, ok fine. We can move it, sixth May?” shaking my head “start off on the tenth May, I need time to gather myself. It gives me time, gives us time. I just want him to remain a secret” they need to accept that also “give us time?” Jay Brown repeated “yes, I have not seen him for months now, well weeks or whatever. I have been here day and night doing this with you, this is my last meeting, and I am going Texas, so Tenth May or nothing!” I didn’t mean to shout but I got annoyed, the room fell awfully silent “Tenth May it is” I need to calm my ass down, but I am frustrated, I just want to see Chris so badly.

Getting into the SUV, shuffling down so Jen can get in “I wasn’t expecting the little outburst” Jen sat next to me, I sighed out “I know. Because I heard that date and I am like it’s his birthday. I cannot do that to him, imagine me being overseas and I miss his first birthday with me, he did so much for me, and I want to repay that. I feel the strain in this relationship already and it’s really upsetting me. Chris is so hard headed, I want him with me, but he won’t. I should be happy he came to New York that time, but he is stuck on being his own boss. He just moved to Texas, I promised him a week ago I would come to see it, but I haven’t, I have cancelled twice so when he said that I just switched, my bad but yeah. I just want to see him because I got to be back here to film my first single off the album” clasping my hands together “I get it, so you’re going there for how long?” she asked “just for the night, I will be back. The jet is waiting, I am dropping you off first” she cooed out “right, I get it. I don’t think Jay Brown was ready for that, but I did over hear him speak on you being in this relationship. He is shocked you both are together; they are intrigued about him to be honest because he is very much a secret. But don’t feel like it’s being strained?” shaking my head “Jen, he has moved to Texas going on a month now and I haven’t been there, it’s bad and we have had our little arguments here and there and he’s like oh you’re too busy for me, and then it’s like having phone sex sometimes just doesn’t work because I am like I want to be there. Yes I can jump on a jet and just go there but then I can’t settle because I have to be back. Maybe it’s my fault because I rushed to do another album, but I want to get out of this contract” I need to relax “it’s ok, you have a good time and see him. It will get easier for you both, I am sure of it. If you both can get through this then you will get through anything” Jen is right, let me calm down.

“Thank you for dropping me off now go and be with your man, you miss him a lot I can tell” she can tell, I am yearning for him. I have been so needy with him since my birthday ended, I just wanted to see him but he became busy with moving his things around also but he just left Virginia so quick without a care, I am so happy he did because I know he is safe “thanks Jen, I will see you soon. I will only be there for a few days, maybe two but I need to get the music video shot so I can spend time with him for his birthday. I want him to meet everyone, get in the circle. For his birthday I am taking him to a Lakers game, he likes Lakers and always has and I think that gift he will adore so much. So that is one of his surprises, but before that I want him to come to LA, before his birthday. I want him to just meet you guys, just spend time with me but I have to talk him into it, he very much likes to be a man’s man and he should do everything, but I want to spoil him to death, like spoil him a lot so I got courtside seats, which means?” Jen let out an oh “that means going public” nodding my head “which means we go public so I need to speak to him when I get to Texas and we can discuss but I don’t think he will have an issue. So that is why I want you all to see him first, like properly get to know him. So that is his gift, one of them anyways. And then Jay talking about tour, no nigga, I am busy getting dick during then” Jen and I cackled “well I am excited to meet him, and I think he will adore that gift. I will sort him out, he needs to let you spoil him. Because if he gives, maybe you both won’t have this split. He is stubborn, I can tell already. His ass could come to Cali” rolling my eyes “he is cheeky, he said oh well where do you want me to live? You don’t even have a home. I am like you are cheeky, but he is right. He went to Texas because it is cheaper, so there you are. That is Chris, but I adore him and I can’t wait to jump on him” Jen cooed out “take care baby, have fun” hugging Jen close, I cannot wait for them to meet him, they will love him.

I am very much tired, but I am glad to be on the jet going to Texas. Let me check on Chris, I did say I am coming today but you never know with him, he doesn’t believe me. Placing my phone against my ear, Rich asked if he should come and I declined. I should be ok, it’s gated, and we won’t go anywhere so it’s fine “coconut head” he answered “hey poppa” Chris snorted laughing “you like calling me that, why? I mean I know why but still” if he knows why then why ask “because you my poppa, my hard headed baby. But I am on the jet coming to you, this time I am coming” the phone line went silent “TJ! You need to get the women out of the house now” I swear I am going to kill him “code 5!?” TJ shouted in the background, I swear these boys are annoying “I am coming there, and I will sort you niggas out, I swear” I hate them “yeah bro, she is coming so get the girls out” I hate him “don’t piss me off, because you won’t like it” Chris chuckled “I am done, but you see how my niggas ride for me? We got a code 5 on you, but you really coming? Man, I ain’t shaved, my pubes are grown, why didn’t you tell before” I rolled my eyes “you didn’t believe me when I mentioned it remember?” he let out an oh “I am excited to see you” I miss his face “also that house plant better be alive when I get there, I got that gift to make your home a little more like I would be there” Chris snorted laughing “uh yeah, we call the plant code 5 too” all of them niggas at that house are annoying “I can’t wait to sort you out! I will see you soon” he gets on my nerves “call me when you get close to the place, I will wait outside the gates for you and get you in ok?” I feel all giddy now, he will be there waiting for me.

I be doing all this myself now, I get everything sorted with getting the SUV and everything like that, I don’t need anyone to do this for me because if I rely on them I would never be here “he should be at the gate” I said to my driver, I hope he is here “there, he is there” I clapped my hands, the driver stopped and put the window down “Christopher” I feel so emotional, it has been so long and it was never meant to be this long. Watching Chris walk towards the back as he opened the door, I am literally jumping off the seat right now “did you tell him to say my government?” he climbed into the SUV “oh my god” I lunged at him, wrapping my arms around his neck “I missed you so much” this is it, the water works have started. Chris snaked his arm around me “I missed you too” he grabbed my legs and picked me to sit me on his lap “you look so good, you got the red lipstick on too” he would notice that, moving my head back “and you kept your hair long, for me. I don’t care, you can look however you want, I missed so much” pecking his lips “you let me down several times” wiping his lips with my thumb, I don’t want to cover it with lipstick now.

Chris lifted the hood up on his jacket “it’s a little busy here so, let’s keep you like this” it smells like him so I don’t mind it “hopefully nobody has a Rihanna foot fetish, they we doomed. Thank you, I will take this” Chris took my carry on suitcase, Chris held onto my hand and honestly my heart skipped a beat, I just missed him looking after me. His presence around me so much, it’s nothing like facetiming. I needed him here with me, holding me like this “welcome to Houston, me and Beyonce are best friends now” he is annoying, walking into the building with him. I can’t even look up because Chris told me not too, he said it’s bust “y’all hear that? Rihanna is releasing a new album, apparently but we don’t support Rihanna here, it’s all about Beyonce” I would kick him if I could “you funny, I rate Rihanna” some guy said, Chris let go of my hand as we stopped walking. Looking up at him, we are getting the elevator “Rihanna sucks” he grinned “dick” I am just going to side eye him, I will get him back. Putting my head down as the elevator opened and people left, it is kind of busy here and I thought it was quiet.

I am so glad that I can take this hood off “you suck, I hate you” unzipping his jacket “well that is my chance to annoy you. You look so beautiful, wait. Hold your face there” looking up at him, he picked at my face “this is what happens when you cry” he blew the eyelash away “does my makeup look bad, I couldn’t help it. I have missed you like crazy and I feel bad because I didn’t come here quick enough” he shushed me “it’s cool, you’re here now so shall we. Barry and TJ are here, on their best behaviour they promise, so come in. This is the little walk way, the first door on the left is TJ’ room, I will take you to the couch you will be sleeping on” he know damn well I won’t be “come” following behind Chris, it looks nice already. Bigger than the old one, very vibrant “code 5 here?” TJ said “she is” Chris looked at me smiling as I walked into the very big open planned living area, I have seen it on facetime but it’s bigger in person. TJ’ mouth hung open as the game they were playing paused “hi” I said smiling, Barry got up from the couch “welcome to the place” he made his way to me “I get it, you see me as Rihanna” Barry laughed “uh yeah, it’s a little weird to split the Robyn from school, but it’s good seeing you” he hugged me, they will get used to it “don’t mind TJ, he has some crush on you” Barry stepped to the side “Rihanna is in my living room, you look bomb” I chuckled “you’re not being loud now huh” he shyed away, he is shy “that is cute” Barry and Chris busted out laughing “I think we need Rihanna here forever, wow” he is so quiet now.

I am most intrigued to see his bedroom, I swear if that is a mess I will be angry “so we are entering where all the sex happens, you are the third woman to enter this room” he is winking at me like I won’t kick him, walking into his bedroom “oh ok, I see you Chris” I am amazed how clean this bedroom is “oh this wall” I pointed “yeah, I am still doing it. I am doing graffiti one wall and keeping the rest white, anime characters I like and then Lakers, we got to add that in. But we getting there, got the mirror here and I been waiting on you. I got this longer mirror for when you come, you can do your thing, your makeup or whatever. I got a little spot for your clothes” he opened the door “here, it’s a closet. I got the desk with the Macbook, the box here is mock ups of the clothing brand we are doing currently, so yeah. It’s not that busy because my mind is busy so I wanted my room to be minimal. It’s busy without it being busy, if you know. This bed, it’s bomb. Brand new, I spend most of my lonely nights here because my girlfriend is too busy for me” Chris walked into me, wrapping his arms around me “I have missed you, the hugs. The love, I am only here for one night” I didn’t add that before “maybe two max” hopefully that makes it better “deadass!?” he moved back “so after all these weeks I get a few days, how does this progress? Man I ain’t had sex in so long, I ain’t had you here. I ain’t going to argue” he putting his hands up, he is not happy at all.

[powermetalhag]

Digging Deeper

 @alienfuckeronmain​ tagged me in this massive tag meme (Thank you!! I love doing these things). If I tag you, feel free to ignore this if you don’t feel up to doing it/reading it. If you aren’t tagged and want to be, feel free to just say I tagged you ❤

I tag: @flowerkitten @meemimajima @darlingdear @wizards1977 @violet-tea @lickthatbattery @lusamine @misfit-on-a-journey @lampshroomomg @cyrsed @wooden-duck @wildbayou @curse-you @ghostly-rowlf​ @icedchailatte​ @oni-lover​

1. Do you prefer writing with a black pen or blue pen? black

2. Would you prefer to live in the country or city? City

3. If you could learn a new skill what would it be? I’d love to be able to sing and metal-scream really well. I’m trying to learn but I practice pretty inconsistently and it’s an uphill battle bc I don’t have much natural aptitude for it. Also it would be really cool to be a contortionist. 

4. Do you drink your tea/coffee with sugar? I don’t drink coffee. Sometimes I sweeten tea, sometimes I don’t.

5. What was your favourite book as a child? I didn’t like reading books much as a child. When it came to reading novels, my reading comprehension was pretty below average (I think I posted about this ages ago, but when I tried to read Harry potter when I was 7 I couldn’t follow it at all. I somehow thought that Harry and Hagrid were the same character and that Hagrid was just the name for Harry’s Wizard self. My concentration just wasn’t there). I read a lot of manga though. I think my favourites were fushigi yuugi, saint tail, and miracle girls.

6. Do you prefer baths or showers? showers.

7. If you could be a mythical creature, which one would it be? Hobbit

8. Paper or electronic books? I prefer paper books, but I mostly use electronic ones.

9. What is your favourite item of clothing? my cloud-print long sleeved mesh shirt

10. Do you like your name or would you like to change it? I used to want to change it, I don’t anymore. 

11. Who is a mentor to you? I don’t think I have one

12. Would you like to be famous and if so, what for? I like the idea of creative projects of mine becoming a little bit known, but I’d never want to be famous.

13. Are you a restless sleeper? Not really

14. Do you consider yourself a romantic person? I’m probably less romantic than the average person, but in the right situation I can be.

15. Which element best represents you? I associate myself with fire (bc I'm a leo) but in some ways water or air might better represent me. Idk.

16. Who do you want to be closer to? Honestly? Pretty much all of my friends. My life is complicated and the severity of my ocd makes me keep everyone at a distance more than I’d like to.

17. Do you miss someone at the moment? Everyone who I haven’t seen since quarantine started.

18. Tell us about an early childhood memory. As young kids my sister and I hated Tracey Sketchit from pokemon so passionately that we would draw his face on the bottom of our feet before going to jump on the trampoline so that we could feel like we were jumping on him

19. What is the strangest thing you have eaten? When we were little my sister and I would sometimes eat raw dried spaghetti dipped in vegemite when there was no other easy snacks in the house. We called them cardboard sticks. (The food situation in my house wasn’t dire or anything, we were just too lazy to make a sandwich or something lol)

20. What are you most thankful for? I am thankful for the people I have in my life and for the amount of stability i’ve been able to have in my life in recent times.

21. Do you like spicy food? I do, but if I eat it often enough to increase my tolerance to it I get bad reflux. So I remain a spice wimp who can only have mild.

22. Have you ever met someone famous? Zakk Wylde, Chris Lilley, and some guy who was on Blue Heelers. Also I spoke to Tracy Grimshaw on the phone once. Meeting Zakk Wylde was funny because I was REALLY weird and embarrassing.

(Long story ahead, feel free to skip) Basically, my friend and I were 16 and wandering through the city high on acid. We saw Zakk standing near Hungry Jacks and became completely captivated by him. We had no idea he was some big famous rockstar, we thought he was just some random guy. I cannot convey to you how intense his presence felt at that time. It was like he was everything that is and ever will be metal but congealed into a human being and magnified by 2000x. (in case you don’t know him, he looks like this)

We were so high that we were very in our own world and felt like we were the only ones who really existed and that everything else was just kinda there for us to observe. So we started following him and discussing him as if he couldn’t hear every word we were saying. 

I remember us being like “He’s the most metal thing i’ve seen in my life” “He’s like Neptune, king of the sea, but a brutal version” “He’s the raw original concept that all other metalheads were disseminated from. He’s the true, the original.” It made sense at the time that he could be the origin point of metal and the first ever metalhead because time and space felt like it existed in a looser way than usual. We were really fixated on the idea that metal was invented through his very existence as a direct expression of self, then people copied him, then people copied those people and so on. The further they got from the source (Zakk) the more diluted the essence became. That’s why being around normal metalheads wasn’t as viscerally overwhelming as being in the presence of the raw undiluted concept. We concluded that no metalheads were actually expressing themselves through their subcultural identity. Unknowingly, they’re just expressing him. And we were saying all of this while walking maybe a metre and a half behind him while he ignored us.

Eventually some of the people he was with noticed we were following him and started talking to us (they may have been members of Black label society or they may have just been friends of his, idk). They were friendly and said that they used to do acid when they were younger too and invited us to get drunk with them. We said yes and walked with them for a little. I don’t think Zakk said a word to us the entire time. He probably found us annoying. But we kept staring at Zakk and getting overwhelmed by how intense it was just to be in his presence. Then me and my friend abruptly turned and left without saying anything because being around Zakk was getting to be too much. It was like a sensory overload. As we walked away we barely heard them yelling back to us “something something something ZAKK WYLDE!”. I was familiar with the name but I’d never known how he looked. I googled him a few days later and learned that it was indeed Zakk Wylde who we met and that he’d been in Brisbane with black label society.

And that’s the story of how I passed up the once in a lifetime opportunity to get drunk with Zakk Wylde because his vibes were off the charts.

23. Do you do you keep a diary or journal? No. Kinda wish I could, but the habit doesn’t stick.

24. Do you prefer to use a pen or a pencil?  Pencil

25. What is your star sign? Leo sun (Virgo cusp), Scorpio moon, Sagittarius rising.

26. Do you like your cereal soggy or crunchy? Crunchy

27. What would you want your legacy to be? I’d like to have a positive effect on the people in my life and leave art behind that people might enjoy or relate to (I use the word art loosely, I mean any kind of creative project). I think I've become more aware recently of how important that is to me, which is why I've been so uncharacteristically dedicated to finishing my comic.

28. Do you like reading, what was the last book you read? I like reading books but I don’t always have the attention span for it. I tend to read more non-fiction than fiction. The last book I read was Nothing Feels Good: Punk Rock, Teenagers, and Emo. A really great book if you want to learn about emo history. The only downside is that it was published in 2003, before emo really took off in the mainstream. Had some insightful things to say regardless.

29. How do you show someone you love them? Idk I can’t think of a concise answer for this. I think it varies depending on who it is and what our dynamic is. When I took that love language test it said my love language was quality time.

30. Do you like ice in your drinks? I don’t like it in water. It’s fine in most other drinks.

31. What are you afraid of? I don’t think I can answer this without oversharing or getting too bleak

32. What is your favourite scent? I like tropical scents like mango and coconut

33. Do you address older people by their name or surname? By their name

34. If money was not a factor, how would you live your life? I’d buy a house with my sister and I wouldn’t have a job but I'd volunteer and do freelance creative work. I’d donate a lot more and help people out more. I’d learn lots of new skills and make lots of art. I would have an amazing wardrobe too.

A kinda sillier dream is that I'd start a cheerleading team where our routines are exclusively to metal songs. As well as entering competitions, we would also be an opening act for bands (in this dream i’m much better at cheerleading than I currently am). It would be cool ok

35. Do you prefer swimming in pools or the ocean.? Ocean. I miss going to the beach so much

36. What would you do if you found £50 on the ground? See if someone dropped it. Then idk, would depend on my financial situation at the time.

37. Have you ever seen a shooting star? Yes

38. What is the one thing you would want to teach your children? I’m not going to have children. I’d like to be a good influence in my friend’s children’s lives though.

39. If you had to have a tattoo, what would it be and where would you get it? Probably some old-school gradient style neopets art (maybe an aisha) or 90s tamagotchi art or a cool wizard. I’d get it on my thigh. I’m very unlikely to ever get a tattoo though

40. What can you hear now? The hum of my computer. It’s old and loud and on its way out

41. Where do you feel the safest? In my bed at home with my cat Luna or hanging out w my sister

42. What is the one thing you want to overcome/conquer? Once coronavirus is less of an issue (which may be in the near future where I live), I’d like to try and push myself to start dating again. I haven’t done that in a long while. The limitations that ocd causes me makes it hard for me to imagine a relationship-- even a casual one--being workable. But I ought to at least try before I decide that. Sometimes things turn out to be easier than I think they’ll be 🤷‍♀️.

43. If you could travel back to any era, what would it be? This is so hard!!

If this is purely for enjoyment and not to change the past, i’d probably just want to see all my favourite bands live while they were in their prime and like, cry the whole way through because I am so moved.

44. What is your most used emoji? :) or :/ 

45. Describe yourself using one word. I’m really bad at questions like this

46. What do you regret the most? Eh, that’s a bit personal. I feel like i’ve overshared enough in this thing.

47. Last movie you saw? Diary of a Wimpy Kid: Dog Days

48. Last tv show you watched? Degrassi the next generation

49. Invent a word and it’s meaning. Idk

If you’ve read this far ty!! Here’s a little sheep for your trouble

[cathygeha]

REVIEW

The Vineyard at Painted Moon by Susan Mallery

 Emotion laden, deeply moving, intensely poignant, well crafted – this story grabbed me and didn’t let me go till I finished at 3am. I felt so much and at times wanted to jump into the pages to “fix” things knowing that the author would bring things right for at least some of the characters by the end of the book…or at least I hope she would! This is a story of love, loss, growth, endurance, values, goals and family. It is a keeper and one I would reread in the future.

 What I liked:

* Mackenzie:  dedicated, focused, interesting. She has been stymied for a while and may need to move on from the safe haven she has lived within for over a decade and a half. She has a rough time of it but comes through rather brilliantly in the end.

* Catherine: sister-in-law to Mackenzie, loving, kind, in tune with the earth, grounded, warm, creative…really liked her.

* Stephanie: sister-in-law to Mackenzie, divorced, mother of two teens, stuck in a rut and trying to move forward but it isn’t easy for her to do so. She is Mackenzie’s best friend and has been since college.

* Bruno: wealthy, attractive, investor, wine distributor, and intriguing. He is warm, a good friend, caring, communicates brilliantly and is perfect for the woman he ends up with.

* Kyle: a good father, professional, a bit selfish…divorced from Stephanie and father of her children

* Rhys: not a bad guy, married to Mackenzie, wants what is best for both of them, a bit heavy handed at times and sometimes rather clueless…and also selfish, perhaps.

* Georgio: a good man, loving, kind, generous, and perfect for the right woman – the boyfriend of Barbara (mother-in-law of Mackenzie)

* The close relationships that were friendly, warm, and caring.

* That there was growth in a number of characters.

* The dynamics between various individuals and groups.

* The way verbalization of feelings, thoughts, and insight into the characters

* Learning a bit more about the winemaking business.

* The setting – love that area of the world!

* All of it really except…

 What I didn’t like:

* Barbara: I won’t give details but if you read the book you will probably feel the same

* Lori: daughter of Barbara and quite a bit like her, I fear.

* The sadness I felt as I empathized with Mackenzie.

 Did I enjoy this book? Yes

Would I read more by this author? Definitely

 Thank you to NetGalley and Harlequen (HQN) for the ARC – This is my honest review.

 5 Stars

BLURB

MacKenzie Dienes's life isn't perfect, but it's as close as she could ever hope to get. Her marriage to Rhys, her best friend's brother, is more friendship than true love. But passion is highly overrated, right? And she loves her job as the winemaker at Bel Apres, her in-laws' vineyard. So what if it's a family business and, even after decades of marriage and incredible professional success, she's still barred from the family business meetings? It's all enough...until one last night spent together leads to an incredibly honest—and painful—conversation. Rhys suggests that they divorce. They haven't had a marriage in a long time and, while he wants her to keep her job at Bel Apres, he doesn't think they should be married any longer. Shocked, MacKenzie reels at the prospect of losing the only family she's ever really known...even though she knows deep in her heart that Rhys is right.

But when MacKenzie discovers she's pregnant, walking away to begin a new life isn't so easy. She never could have anticipated the changes it would bring to the relationships she cherishes most: her relationship with Barbara, her mother-in-law and partner at Bel Apres, Stephanie, her sister-in-law and best friend, and Bel Apres, the company she's worked so hard to put on the map.

MacKenzie has always dreamed of creating a vineyard of her own, a chance to leave a legacy for her unborn child. So when the opportunity arises, she jumps at it and builds the Vineyard at Painted Moon. But following her dreams will come at a high price—one that MacKenzie isn't so sure she's willing to pay…

  EXTRACT

Chapter One

“Not that what you’re wearing isn’t great, but the party starts in an hour.”

Mackenzie Dienes looked up from the grapevine she’d been studying, her mind still on the tight clusters of small, hard grapes that would, come late September, be ripe and sweet and ready for harvest. Between now and then, she would monitor their progress, willing them to greatness and protecting them from danger, be it mold, weather or hungry deer.

She blinked at the man standing in front of her, tall and familiar, with an easy smile and broad, capable shoulders.

“Party?” she asked, letting her thoughts of the vineyards go and remembering that, yes, indeed, it was the evening of the annual Solstice Party, hosted by the Barcellona family. As she was a Barcellona, by marriage if not by name, she would be expected to attend.

Wanted to attend, she reminded herself. It was always a good time, and Stephanie, her sister-in-law, worked hard to make it a perfect night.

“The party,” she repeated, her voice slightly more panicked this time, then glanced down at herself. “Crap. What time is it?”

Rhys, her husband, shook his head. “You really don’t listen when I talk, do you? We have an hour. You’ll be fine.”

She pulled off her gloves and shoved them into the left front pocket of her coveralls, then stepped behind Rhys and gave him a little push toward the flatbed truck he’d driven out to the west vineyards.

“You say that because all you have to do is shower and get dressed. I have to do the girl thing.”

“Which takes you maybe ten minutes.” He put his arm around her as they hurried toward the truck. “Happy with the grapes?”

“I think so,” she said, glancing toward the healthy vines growing on either side of them. “We might have to do some thinning in a couple of weeks, but so far, so good.”

As they slid onto the bench seat of the old truck, he glanced at her. She smiled, knowing there was a fifty-fifty chance he would call her out on her thinning statement. He was, after all, the vineyard manager. Technically all the decisions about the vineyard were made by him with her input, but not her instruction. As winemaker, she managed the grapes from the moment they were picked until the wine was bottled.

But at Bel Après, areas of responsibility often overlapped. Theirs was a large, boisterous family in which everyone had opinions. Not that Mackenzie listened to a lot of other ideas when it came to her wines, although as Rhys often pointed out, she was very free offering hers when it came to his work.

He drove along the dirt path that circled the vineyard, stopping by her truck. She slid into the cab, then followed him back to the family compound. The main road leading into Walla Walla was thick with tourists who wanted to enjoy the longest day of the year. She merged into the slow-moving traffic, doing her best to keep from glancing at the clock on the truck’s dashboard as she inched along.

Vineyards stretched out on either side of the road, flat on the left and rising toward the hills on the right. Bright green leaves topped sturdy trunks that had been carefully trained to grow exactly as she wanted them to. The rows were long and neat, and the spaces between them were filled with native grasses that held in moisture and protected the roots from the heat.

Looking at her healthy crop kept her mind off the fact that she and Rhys were going to be desperately late.

Twenty minutes later, she followed him off the highway onto a less crowded secondary road—a back way home. Five minutes after that, they parked the trucks by the processing buildings behind the big tasting room. Rhys had already claimed one of the golf carts the family used to get around. She slid in next to him and they took off toward the center of the property.

Bel Après Winery and the surrounding land had been in the Barcellona family for nearly sixty years. Rhys and his siblings were third-generation. The original main house had been updated several times. When Rhys and Mackenzie had married, Barbara, Rhys’s mother, had suggested they build themselves a house close to hers, rather than commute from town. Eager to stay in the good graces of her new mother-in-law, Mackenzie had agreed.

A large two-story home had been built. Barbara and Mackenzie had decorated every room, the act of choosing everything from light fixtures to doorknobs cementing their affection for each other.

A few years later, Stephanie, the second of Barbara’s four children, had gotten a divorce and moved back home with her two kids, requiring another house to be constructed. When the youngest of the three girls had married, the last house had been added. Only Lori, the middle daughter, still lived in the original home.

All four houses faced a huge central courtyard. Mexican pavers were shaded by vine-covered pergolas. The extended family used the space for big dinners and as a kids’ play area. If one of the women baked cookies, a cookie flag was hung out the front door, inviting anyone to stop by. At Christmas, a large tree was brought in from Wishing Tree, and for the annual Summer Solstice Party, dozens of long tables were brought in to seat the two hundred or so guests.

Rhys swung the golf cart behind the large main house, circling counterclockwise. Normally he would cut across the courtyard, but with all the party preparations, he had to go the long way. He pulled up at the rear entrance to their house and they dashed inside.

Mackenzie paused to unlace her boots and left them in the mudroom. Rhys did the same. They raced up the stairs together, separating at the landing to head to their individual en suite bedrooms.

Once in her bathroom, she started the shower. Thankfully, she’d already picked out the dress she would wear. She raced through a shower. After she dried off, she wrapped her hair in a towel and dug out the scented body lotion Rhys had given her a couple of years ago. Why anyone would want to smell like coconut and vanilla was beyond her, but he liked it.

She walked into the large closet and opened her underwear drawer. To the right were all the sensible bikini panties she usually wore—to the left were the fancier ones for special occasions. She chose a black pair and slipped them on, then went to the second drawer and looked for the matching push-up bra. When it and the pads were in place and doing the best they could with her modest curves, she pulled on a robe and returned to the bathroom.

After plugging in her hot rollers, it took her only a few minutes to apply eyeliner and mascara. She was flushed from the day working outside, so she didn’t bother with any other makeup.

Her hair took a lot longer. First she had to dry the dark red shoulder-length waves, then she had to curl them. While the rollers were in place, she searched for a pair of black high-heel sandals that wouldn’t leave her crippled by the end of the night.

Those found, she opened her small jewelry box and pulled out her wedding set, sliding both the engagement ring and the wedding band into place on her left hand. Diamond stud earrings followed. She’d barely stepped into her sleeveless black dress when Rhys walked into the closet, fully dressed in black slacks and a dark gray shirt.

She sighed when she saw him. “See. You have it so much easier than me.”

“Yes, but in the end, you’re more beautiful. That should be worth something.”

“I’d rather have the extra time.”

She turned, presenting him with her back. He pulled up the zipper, then bent to collect her shoes. They retreated to her bathroom and together began removing the curlers.

“We’re late,” Mackenzie said, catching sight of his watch. “Your mom is going to be all snippy.”

“She’ll be too busy welcoming her guests.” The last of the curlers was flung onto the counter. Mackenzie fluffed her hair, then pointed to the bedroom.

“Retreat,” she said, reaching for the can of hair spray.

Rhys ducked to safety. She sprayed the curls into submission before running into the bedroom to escape the death cloud. Rhys was on the bench at the foot of the large bed. She sat next to him and quickly put on her shoes.

“Done,” she said, pausing to reacquaint herself with the seldom-used skill of walking in heels.

She grabbed her husband’s wrist. “Seven fifteen. Barbara’s going to kill us.”

“She’s not. I’m her only son and you’re just plain her favorite.”

“We weren’t ready exactly at seven. I can already hear the death-march music in my head. I want to be buried on Red Mountain.”

Rhys chuckled as he led the way downstairs. “In the vineyard? I’m not sure your decaying body is going to be considered organic.”

“Are you saying I’m toxic?” she asked with a laugh as they walked toward the front door.

“I’m saying you’re wonderful and I’d like us to have a good night.”

There was something in his tone, she thought, meeting his gaze. She’d known this man her entire adult life. They’d met over Christmas her freshman year of college. Her roommate, his sister Stephanie, had dragged Mackenzie home to meet the family. Grateful not to have to spend the holiday by herself, Mackenzie had gone willingly and had quickly found herself falling not only for her best friend’s hunky older brother but for the entire Barcellona family and the vineyards they owned. Barbara had been like a surrogate mother, and the vineyards, well, they had been just as magical as Rhys’s sexy kisses.

Now she studied her husband’s expression, seeing the hint of sadness lurking behind his easy smile. She saw it because she hid the same emotion deep inside herself. The days of stealing away for sexy kisses were long gone. There were no lingering looks, no intimacy. They had a routine and a life, but she was less sure about them still having a marriage.

“I’d like that, too,” she murmured, knowing he wasn’t asking them not to fight. They never did. Harsh words required a level of involvement they simply didn’t have anymore.

“Then let’s make that happen,” he said lightly, taking her hand in his and opening the front door.

  AUTHOR BIO

#1 NYT bestselling author Susan Mallery writes heartwarming, humorous novels about the relationships that define our lives―family, friendship, romance. She's known for putting nuanced characters in emotional situations that surprise readers to laughter. Beloved by millions, her books have been translated into 28 languages. Susan lives in Washington with her husband, two cats, and a small poodle with delusions of grandeur. Visit her at SusanMallery.com.

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Q and A with Susan Mallery on The Vineyard at Painted Moon

 1.      Where did inspiration for the book come from?

 The Vineyard at Painted Moon was really inspired by the gorgeous wine country of Washington State. My readers have told me that they love when my books have wish-you-were-there settings, like the tulip farms in Secrets of the Tulip Sisters and the monastery-turned-mansion of The Summer of Sunshine and Margot. So I knew I wanted to set my next hardcover somewhere that would give readers a beautiful, scenic escape—and this was well before I knew the book would come out during a pandemic, when we’re all trapped at home a lot more than usual.

 So I started daydreaming about beautiful settings, and I landed on Washington wine country. Breathtaking. Seriously, look it up.

 Every evening before dinner, Mr. Mallery and I have a glass of wine together and tell one another about our day. This daily ritual makes us feel close and connected even when life gets hectic, and it has led us to learn more about how wine is made. I thought it could be really interesting to write about a female winemaker, because this is still very much a male-dominated field. I asked myself, “What is the worst thing that could happen to a winemaker?”

 “What if,” I thought, “she lost the land she loved?”

 And not because of fire or natural disaster, but because of an emotional earthquake—Mackenzie Dienes is the winemaker at a family winery. But it’s her husband’s family. . . and their marriage is in trouble. She could stay if she’s willing to be nothing more than an employee for the rest of her life. But if she wants something more, something of her own, she’ll have to be brave.

 The Vineyard at Painted Moon is the story of Mackenzie’s search for happiness and self-fulfillment after divorce. With some pretty spectacular scenery thrown in. Oh, and wine. Lots and lots of wine.

 2.      What are your favourite scenes? Why?

 This is a tricky question for me to answer without spoilers, because my favorite scenes are the emotional turning points of the story. I don’t really want to reveal them here, as I think readers will want to experience them on their own. I will answer, but it’s going to be vague and somewhat frustrating. Teasers, rather than spoilers.

 I love the scene where Mackenzie and Rhys realize that their marriage is over. (That doesn’t count as a spoiler, since it’s revealed on the back cover of the book.) The way they come to the realization and move through the scene is completely unexpected and unlike any breakup scene I’ve ever written—or read, for that matter. It’s heartbreaking and poignant and beautiful and even a little funny. If you have a heart, it’ll make you cry. I think readers are going to fall in love with Rhys even as Mackenzie is accepting that she’s not in love with him anymore.

 One of my other favorite scenes is one that I’m not sure will stand out as much in readers’ minds. It’s a scene in which Mackenzie finds out just how highly she is esteemed by her colleagues in the wine world. She never knew. She never thought of working anywhere but the family winery—she was just so grateful to have a family through her husband, since she had none of her own. In this scene, nothing really changes but her perception—of herself, and of how people perceive her—but perception is reality. Suddenly, Mackenzie realizes that she has options. She can dare to dream.

 And that changes everything.

 3.      What was the hardest scene to write and why?

 At the risk of repeating myself, that scene in which Mackenzie and Rhys finally acknowledge that their marriage is over was certainly one of the hardest to write. The emotional intricacies of the situation were incredibly nuanced. I had to get it exactly right. Rhys is not a point-of-view character, so the whole scene is told from Mackenzie’s perspective, but I wanted the reader to understand and empathize with Rhys, as well. It’s a deeply emotional scene, and I’m very curious to see how readers will respond to it.

 4.      Do you have advice for me wanting to write in the same genre?

 Never give up. There are a lot of very talented writers who will never be published simply because they gave up trying. You never know if the next book will be the one. You have to want it enough to keep going.

 5.      Where did the idea for the title come from? It’s so original.

 Thank you! I almost never come up with the titles for my own books. My file names are just the first name of the main character, so the working title on this book was Mackenzie. When it’s time to title the book, the whole team makes suggestions—my editor, agent, assistant, the marketing department. It’s trickier now than it’s ever been because I’ve written a lot of books, and we don’t want the titles to be too similar. And yet they have to appeal to the same audience.

 All that said, I was the one to suggest The Vineyard at Painted Moon. I thought it would be appropriate to feature the beautiful setting in the title, since it plays such an important role in the book. I’m glad you like it!

 6.      Who is your favorite character and why?

 I love Stephanie and Four, Rhys’s sisters and Mackenzie’s best friends. They’re the kind of friend that every woman should have—and that every woman should be. Close female friendships are a hallmark of my books. In The Vineyard at Painted Moon, the friendships were especially complex because they were also sisters-in-law. . . soon to be exes. But at the end of the day, this truly is Mackenzie's story, so she would be the favorite.

 7.      What is your favorite book genre to read?

 For the most part, I read what I write—women’s fiction and romance. I’m not into thrillers or anything that involves violence and murder. I’m much more interested in emotional drama, in the inherent conflict between people who want different things.

[sadisticsmiles]

Next Heartbeat Chapter 2 (Toshiki Kasumi Fanfic)

How It Began

Maruo Nakano was the stepfather of the quintuplets and he was a physician at his own hospital. He had connections to the heads of schools, politicians, along with other hospitals in Japan. One of his stepdaughters had gotten married quite recently to the son of an acquaintance from high school. Though oddly enough, the rest of quintuplets had tagged along for the married couple’s honeymoon trip. However, the same thing had happened for the high school celebration trip as well.

           The rule that formed the quintuplets’ bond was to stick together, always. By that, it was simply a metaphor to stay through when things needed them to. Helping each other and whatnot is what any family would do.

           While Maruo’s daughters and son-in-law were still on their trip, he had requested an appointment with Dean Matsunaga and Chief Kasumi at Seimei University Hospital in the morning.

           “Maruo,” Dean Matsunaga greeted, “it’s been some time since your last visit! How was the wedding?”

           Maruo indifferently replied as he took a seat. “It was wonderful, thank you. Everyone was happy and the honeymoon is still going on.”

           Chief Kasumi said, “I’m sorry we couldn’t attend the wedding with all the emergency surgeries going on at Seimei.”

           “It’s all right,” Maruo said. “I understand it’s a busy time for your staff.”

           Dean Matsunaga asked, “By the way, are the rest of the girls on the trip? I mean honeymoons are for the newlyweds, but…”

           Maruo nodded. “It’s just like the graduation trip they had five years ago.”

           “I see,” Chief Kasumi noted. “All five quintuplets are together.”

           “Hahaha!” Dean Matsunaga laughed. “I find their bond as quintuplets cute. Still, university studies and working different jobs are part of youth; they’re absolutely taxing to humans.”

           Ignoring the dean’s casual comments, Chief Kasumi asked, “Anyhow, what brings you here so soon, Dr. Nakano?”

           “It’s been nearly a year since you’ve accepted a female resident to the EICU, if I recall,” Maruo noted.

           “Indeed it has,” Dean Matsunaga said. “She’s quite a promising young doctor and she learns well.”

           “Dr. Takado has mentored her,” Chief Kasumi responded. “Is there a patient from your hospital who needs to be admitted to Seimei?”

           Maruo put his hand up. “Actually no. Chief Kasumi, I recall the EICU is full of unique and popular individuals. Why don’t you all take some time off every once in a while? I’ll pay for your food expenses.”

           Chief Kasumi and Dean Matsunaga’s eyes widened.

           “That’s all…?” Chief Kasumi inquired.

           “That’s all. You may tell whoever’s serving your food and drink bills that I’ll be paying.”

           Maruo stood up and walked out the door.

           A silence was in the dean’s office but it took a few seconds for Dean Matsunaga to smile brightly.

           “Well!” he exclaimed. “Let’s go tell the rest of your team to eat out tonight, Kasumi!”

           Chief Kasumi averted his gaze and with his perpetual frown on his face, he said. “…I don’t think we should celebrate so soon.”

           Dean Matsunaga was baffled. “Huh? Why not?”

           “Everyone in the EICU is doing their fair share of operations for the week.”

           Dean Matsunaga frowned. “I thought we agreed to cut the workload for you all.”

           “I don’t see why it’s a bad idea to keep them working. It’s important to save people while we still can.”

           Dean Matsunaga frowned. “Hey, now don’t be a sourpuss. But if there’s nothing we can do about the surgeries that are scheduled, I guess we can wait for another time.”

 ~

 A few days had passed by since the Nakano quintuplets had gone on the honeymoon trip for Fuutaro and Yotsuba (the fourth sister of the quintuplets). Ichika, the oldest one, had returned to her work as an actress, but she went overseas yet again for her acting career. Nino (the second oldest) and Miku (the middle daughter) ran a café together. Meanwhile, Itsuki (the youngest) was a teacher and she drove to school daily.

           It was sometime in the evening when Nino and Miku had gotten a call for a reservation from Eiichi Matsunaga. He and the members of the EICU would eat over at the Nakano Café instead of the Pen, a bar which they frequently gathered together. It was rare to have a switch to where the doctors would dine at, but a change of pace was nice occasionally.

           Soon, the door opened and six people entered the café.

           “Howdy there, girls!” Matsunaga exclaimed. “How’ve you been?”

           Miku Nakano bowed lightly. “We’re doing well. Anyway, Dean Matsunaga and everyone from the EICU, welcome. Please take a seat wherever you would all like to sit at.“

           “Adorable as ever, Miku!” Dean Matsunaga complimented, taking a seat at the table in the middle with his colleagues. “And what about you, Nino?”

           Nino Nakano looked at the group and said, “Honestly, you don’t change, Matsunaga. Miku and I just came back from a trip.”

           “Kasumi and I’ve heard from Maruo,” Matsunaga said. “You girls really like to go on trips together.”

           Toshiki Kasumi, chief of the EICU, added, “But more importantly, congratulations to Yotsuba for getting married.” Similar to Maruo Nakano, he was a stoic, yet young-looking guy.

           Sentaro Kyogoku said, “Right, we weren’t able to attend the wedding with work going on. How was the wedding?”

           Recalling how all five quintuplets had their final “quintuplet game” as a test for Fuutaro, the groom and the schoolmate who had been hired as their tutor five years ago, was a really sweet memory for Nino and Miku, as well for their sisters. The girls had put Fuutaro in a situation to guess which of them was the correct bride, but seeing how well their bond was with him, he nailed the bride-guessing game and could tell the quintuplets apart from one another.

           Nino quickly responded, “I-I’ll get started on the food!” She then sped walked to the kitchen.

           Miku glanced at Nino as the latter had disappeared before answering Sentaro’s question. “Ah.” She smiled. “The wedding was spectacular. Yotsuba was happy to make her dream as a bride come true.”

           “Is Nino okay, though?” Sentaro asked.

           Miku said, “She will be. It’s just a jog down memory lane for us, but let’s move on.” She took out a notepad and pen. “What drinks would you all like to order?”

           “A vanilla soybean milk,” Toshiki said.

           Sentaro smiled casually. “I’ll have the same as Kasumi.”

           Kaede Ekuni, who was quite listless and introverted, said, “Just water for me.”

           “Oolong tea,” Munechika Takado, a guy whose face seemed menacing compared to everyone else, said.

           “Matcha soda!” Yuuko Benihime exclaimed while she raised her right hand up. She was the female doctor in the EICU and was also Munechika’s protégé. She was more of the eccentric and energetic type of person, but Dean Matsunaga hired her for her skills and (slightly) for the EICU’s sake. Yuuko was quite amusing, and she was similar to Yotsuba in several ways.

           “You really love what Miku likes, Yuuko” said Tetsuya Hosho. “I’ll have a coconut juice.”

           Matsunaga said, “I’ll have… whatever you recommend for me, Miku.”

           Miku walked to the kitchen to prepare the group’s beverages.

           Yuuko spoke up as the group watched Miku disappear from their sight. “Is Nino really going to be okay?”

           Munechika had a blank expression on his face. “Says the one who ordered matcha soda.”

           “It’s actually a good beverage despite the name,” Yuuko gleefully said. “Dr. Takado, if you’d stop ordering from your kids menu food from the Pen, it would be a nice change of pace.”

           Munechika folded his arms. “We didn’t get to order any food yet.”

           Kaede bluntly said, “Takado’s face is the most intimidating thing that keeps us from getting Nino and Miku to take food orders for us.”

           Tetsuya laughed. “Ahaha, I see.” Then he had a more concerned expression on his face. “Though, I wonder what happened on the wedding day.”

           Sentaro shrugged. “Who knows?”

           Dean Matsunaga smiled thoughtfully. “Kasumi, do you think… it’s that?”

           Knowing what Dean Matsunaga was referring to, Toshiki said, “It’s got to be.”

           Everyone else but Munechika blinked.

           “What’s that?” Yuuko asked as she placed a finger near her lips.

           “You’ve got to be kidding me,” Munechika said. He grimaced at what Matsunaga and Kasumi were referring to.

           “I see Dr. Takado knows something,” Tetsuya grinned.

           “It’s typical for him to know things we don’t,” Kaede flatly replied.

           Sentaro said, “I guess that’s how long he’s known the Nakano quintuplets.”

           Yuuko frowned, her eyes still full of wonder. “Hmm? Will someone please explain what that is?”

           Munechika flicked Yuuko on the forehead. “You don’t need to know.”

           Toshiki blandly added, “Another time, Benihime.”

           “Aww, come on!” Yuuko pouted. “I’m dying to know now that Dr. Takado and Kasumi have shut me down!”

           “Will you guys be quiet already?!” a voice yelled.

           Everyone jolted in their seats with shocked looks on their faces. Though, only Toshiki was devoid of any emotion, so he was totally calm. Nino was back; she stood behind the counter, holding onto a tray full of appetizers. She huffed lightly. As she walked toward the group’s table, one of her feet kicked the floor and she nearly tripped.

           “Ah—” Nino’s eyes widened. She was still holding onto the tray.

           Most of the doctors saw that she was about to drop the tray, but one of them got up from their seat and swiftly made their way to the rescue. Their hands caught onto the tray, pushing the dishes from lunging forward.

           “…!” Nino’s eyes were wide once again as they locked onto the most beautiful light gray eyes any doctor ever had.

           “Are you okay, Nino?” Toshiki asked.

[secretradiobrooklyn]

Shroud of Pigeon | 12.5.20

Secret Radio | 12.5.20 | Hear it here.

1. Yos Olarang - title unknown

This is a real score in my book. Generally known as Yol Aularon, this guy is Cambodia’s greatest rock musician, turning out garage rock that knows no equal in America or anywhere else, in my opinion. I tracked down this song on a tape attributed to “Yol Aularon” which includes his big hit, “Cyclo,” but also this song which I haven’t heard on any other collections. Honestly, though, I may yet run across it in a prominent collection, because I have no way of figuring out the title — every bit of the text I can find is in Cambodian. In any case, we LOVE this track! It’s almost like a catalog of Olarang’s laughs: there’s a merry snort, a giggle, and a malevolent cackle all built into the melody. I believe he’s the blazing lead guitarist as well. It’s just such a perfect gem of pure rock energy.

2. Gedou - “Scent” (I think)

Speaking of pure rock energy — DAMN, SAM! This was our introduction to Gedou, a blasting burst of Japanese glam rock whose costumes match the sounds you hear here. These guys were only originally active from ’73-’76, and then got back together sporadically after that; I believe this is from that original lineup. It’s well worth it to check the live video that this comes from. It’s an electric thrill just to see them leaning back to back, singing into the same mic, doing kicks and losing their minds in shining kimonos and silk hiphuggers. It feels like a Japanese MC5 whose wardrobe directly influenced David Bowie. One note I read says that they were popular with Japanese biker gangs at the time — and there are certainly bikes aplenty in the video. I’m looking forward to finding out more about the impact they had in Japan, and whether they made an impression in the rest of the world. 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uHfBhJsqrD8

3. Clothilde - “Saperlipopette”

What a strange little slab of chamber pop! Clothilde was barely even a one-hit wonder in France — she released two 45s in 1967 and, as far as I know, that was it. But what a song! It’s like a vanful of pop records crashed into a classical instrument shop. I especially dig the xylophone or whatever that is back there — hardly necessary given the hyperactive harpsichord, but it takes the poppy flavor right over the top. So many bands have tried to get to this level of fizz, but I’ve never heard it succeed like this!

- King Kong - “Ten Long Years”

Slint is one of indie rock’s most unimpeachably cool bands, which makes the silliness of King Kong all the more endearing. Band leader Ethan Buckler was the original bassist in Slint, and all of the Slint lineup got into the act at one point or another. In 1995 Drag City released King Kong’s “Me Hungry,” a sort of funky concept album about a caveman, his yak, and an inhospitable world. Sean Nelson and I spent many not-sober nights enjoying that record — “I push em out, I push em out” — and got to see them play the Crocodile Cafe. I definitely remember appreciating how groovy King Kong was, like Neanderthal B-52s. Butler even looked a bit like a shaved caver. 

4. Star Feminine Band - “Femme Africaine”

Born Bad is our new favorite label, right up there with Analog Africa. They’re based in France, and release music both archival and new. Star Feminine Band is based in Benin, home to so much of our favorite music. It’s definitely worth watching the video for this song just to see how young and full of potential the girls in the band are. They were assembled in a School of Rock sort of situation, taught to play instruments and encouraged to write lyrics. The lyrics of this song are so directly uplifting it’s enough to put a lump in the throat. Meanwhile, the music is such a pleasure to listen to! The whole album is full of good stuff, but this song is pretty much their theme song. It translates to: 

“Oh woman, African woman

Oh woman, Beninese woman

Black woman, get up, don't sleep

You can become president of the republic

You can become prime minister of the country

Get up, something must be done

African woman, be independent

The country needs us, go to school

Africa needs you, you have to work

The world needs us, let's stand up we'll defend

African woman, be independent”

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bdDp6VAXXbk

5. Young Signorino - “Mmh Ha Ha Ha”

A few years ago a friend posted the video for this song on FB with a note that was like, “Ever see something you should hate but you can’t stop watching?” I watched it, watched it again… and watched it again. It eventually slipped out of my mind, but I was thrilled to remember it the other day in the context of WBFF. The song’s language, such as it is, is Italian, but it also just fits perfectly into the post-language mix that has been turning our cranks lately. I’m really glad to get a chance to present it here first as a piece of music, because the video really affects the experience. 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=K9bf4PT-aEk

6. Yura Yura Teikoku - ゆらゆら帝国で考え中  “Yura Yura Keikoku de Kangaechuu” (I think?)

This is another sweet find in a broadcast full of em! Yura Yura Teikoku is a trio formed in 1989 and have a huge rep in Japan as a psychedelic band, but apparently by 2000 they were crafting super-awesome pop songs that rocked hard. The video of this song features a singer with adorably mussed hair and a striped shirt against an orange background, looking super hip and on top of the world. From what I’ve read they were gigantic in Japan but utterly unknown outside, which changed a bit when they played New York in 2007 and again a year later, to packed houses. But that didn’t seem to do the trick, and they finally broke up in 2010. They have several good songs from this period, but this one, from a three-song 45, is the one that has hooked us the hardest so far. We can’t seem to find out even what the song title is, but as far as I can tell the band’s name translates to The Wobbling Empire, and the song title is “Thinking in the Wobbling Empire.” It’s bizarre to us that this kind of hip tight rock didn’t find a way into the bigger world… but I guess singing in Japanese was the deciding factor. Really glad to have uncovered it though!

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M9CM44MohAs

7. Can - “Mother Sky”

I know a lot of bigger Can fans than me, but this track has so much of what we love in the drones, the freakouts, the lockdowns, the Engl-ish vocals, the long climb towards the climax… it feels sometimes like flying, sometimes like swimming, sometimes like burrowing deeper and deeper downwards.

8. Señor Coconut - “Showroom Dummies”

Can and Kraftwerk share enough DNA that they seem like a natural pairing. But… Señor Coconut’s version of this classic track of “Trans-Europe Express” is honestly my preferred version of the song. It sounds so sincere and strange, and I find myself thinking about the lives of mannequins even as I also hear the palm leaves switching in the breeze. The album “El Baile Aleman” — “German Dance” — was released in 1999, and apparently Kraftwerk was fine with it. Thank goodness. 

- Lithics - “A Highly Textured Ceiling”

Every time I hear this track I think of Six Finger Satellite’s “The Pigeon Is the Most Popular Bird,” a crucial album for me. I learned about all of these tones for the first time from that record. I’ma write more about this band in a sec, when they show back up. 

9. Schwervon! - “American Idle” 

Years ago Mike Appelstein hipped us to Schwervon!, a two-piece band who were about to make the opposite journey of our own eventual path, moving from NYC to Missouri — in their case Kansas City. They turned out to be lovely individuals and an instant favorite band, and we hosted them whenever they came through STL. Their album “Courage” plays like a lost ’90s classic, and “American Idle” is one of the best tracks on there. The production of the album, by Matt Mason, is straight-up enviable. As is so often the case, good people have good friends, and they led us to Jeffrey Lewis, who has been a pleasure to get to know better since we made our own way east last year. I don’t think Matt and Nan are writing songs together anymore, but we’re glad that they did. 

10. Boney M. - “Rasputin”

I saw this song peeking at me from my computer now and then, but didn’t check it out til recently. What a complete banger! The lyrics are absolutely fantastic — “Rah! Rah! Rasputin, Russia’s greatest love machine, it was a shame how he carried on!” — but so is the production… and the video, for that matter. Apparently this was a hit track in 1978. I’ve spent most of my life avoiding disco, though, so I had no idea. I love how the narrative weight shifts from the lead male voice to the chorus voices. It’s such a strange read of Rasputin’s life and death — the unkillable Casanova of Russia!

11. Rafaella Carrá - “Festa”

Did I mention that I used to hate disco? Well, this is my big comeup. We’ve been dabbling in disco on WBFF here and there, but this pairing is meant strictly for the dancefloor! This is the original Italian version, but Carrá became a massive hit in Spain and recorded most of her songs in Spanish as well. Obviously, the Spanish influence is strong in this song’s amazing flamenco claps and trumpet passages. 

12. T.P. Orchestre Poly-Rythmo de Cotonou Benin et Loko Pierre - “Djo Mi Do”

There’s nowhere to go from disco but back to our prime fascination: Tout Puissant! This album is a collaboration with saxophonist Loko Pierre, and every track hits hard. But this track’s chorus, “djo mi do, djo mi do!” is such a gotdamn hook! This band continues to surprise and reward the deeper we dig into their catalog, and I feel like we’re still just getting started. So funky and fresh every time.

The chorus makes me think of a song we first heard on KDHX about a decade ago — “Dominos,” by The Big Pink. I really liked the hook of the song but loathed the cold-blooded lyrics, so I found myself hating it. You know how it is. I’m really glad to find a song that can replace it in my head — and it’s a way better song!

13. Bruno Leys - “Hallucinations”

Credit to Born Bad records once again for this song. It’s a true rarity. Bruno Leys fell in with some fellow students in Paris in 1967 including a guy named Emmanuel Pairault, who was obsessed with an instrument called the ondes Martenot, which is a very very early electronic instrument that works a little like a theremin — though it’s played by wearing a ring on one finger and sliding it along a wire, depressing the wire to change the note — but has a crazy range of sounds. The instrumental hook in this song, as well as the backing notes, are on the onde Martenot. Leys co-wrote and recorded four songs with the band, they got signed up with a label, released a 7”, then he had to leave for compulsory military service… and by the time he got back two years later there was no band and no label. The 7” was practically unobtainable til this year, when Born Bad records finally released it anew. I hope Leys is still alive to appreciate that it finally made its way into the world!

- The Psycheground Group - “Psycheground”

14. Troubadour Dali - “Spirit of ’67”

Oh, Troubadour… Sleepy Kitty shared a label with Troubadour Dali for several years, and we were big fans of their whirling swirling psychedelia. They had a couple of chicks (I think they’d approve of the word) projecting old-school colored oil-and-water light effects on the band, and when they were on, they looked and felt like the greatest band in the land. Troubadour went through an impressive number of players over the years, and there was generally some sort of drama or mayhem going on — not too surprising for a band who loved Brian Jonestown Massacre. The main songwriter was a lanky, handsome fella named Ben, though there were also great songs by Kevin and, every once in a great while, a powerful contribution by a quiet, snappy dresser named Benjamin. Benjamin apparently put this recording together entirely on his own. When he showed it to the band they flipped out — it’s obviously a winner — and they quickly got together a live version of it. Man, it tore the house down every time. At some point, though, in the midst of some of that drama, Benjamin started to kind of slip sideways out of the band. As they were finishing up their second full length, he declined to let the band record this song, or to make the demo available, despite their pleas. Eventually they went forward without it, and I don’t know what happened to Benjamin but I do know that Paige happened to rediscover her copy of “Spirit of ‘67″ recently, tucked into a stack of burned CDs. We’re very glad to get to drop this very special song into this secret radio mix.

- The Psycheground Group - “Psycheground”

Rare Italian instrumental noodles from the mid ’70s.

15. The Velvet Underground - “After Hours”

*Not ruined. Affected, but not ruined. She said so. 

16. Jean Cussac in “Le Livre de la Jungle” - “Etre un homme comme vous”

One musical adventure we’ve really enjoyed is checking out familiar musicals in unfamiliar tongues. And though you may not think of Disney’s “Jungle Book” as a musical, you’d be mistaken. This version of “I Want to Be Like You” is a particular delight. It plays straight with the original, but the presence of the French language inflects the rhythms with a Parisian flavor that I’d never noticed before.

17. Duch Kim Hak - “Neary Sok Khley”

Another hit from the Cambodian treasure chest. Paige noted as we listened the first time, “This one has good chords,” and we took to referring to it as Cambodian ska. I think it’s meant to be a simple twist song, but there’s a royal quality to the chords that really puts it above a straightforward dance novelty. And his vocal delivery is ace!

18. The Fall - “Terry Waite Sez”

Not much needed on this one! This is one in a host of classics from 1986’s “Bend Sinister.” The Brix E. period of The Fall is just the BEST. 

19. Twiggy - “When I Think of You”

Paige: “I was made aware of this record by The Deccas [a band she briefly sang with in Chicago]. They knew every single girl group song that had ever been recorded. This was the same band where the guy who was obsessed with Scott Walker and looked like him and his house was very /60s and he had a word processor. I didn’t even know what a word processor was. That’s unrelated to this song though. She’s one of the great singing models — and maybe next week we’ll play another one. There are three known.”

- Psycheground Group - “Psycheground”

20. Hallelujah Chicken Run Band - “Alikulila” 

SO happy to have this album on vinyl at last! It was just released in this format, and Analog Africa is always so good at including notes about the album’s genesis. These guys are from Zambia, and they pioneered the translation of mbira parts into guitar parts, while writing these amazing songs that I’ve never heard anything like. Except for one. One of their songs sounds a bit like a Bound Stems song. Which is weird, because obviously we’d never heard them when we wrote “Cloak of Blue Sky.” It just proves to me that they were both way ahead of their time and working in an idiom that could and should be hit music today. It sounds so alive and creative and insightful, like good indie rock should. 

21. Lithics - “Snake Tattoo / Twisting Vine”

Lithics is one of my favorite contemporary bands. They played Foam in St. Louis like five years ago, right after I’d discovered their existence via the excellent album “Borrowed Floors.” Foam was a tiny little club that fit maybe 50 people and was sure to go apeshit for this show. I was SO psyched to be there… but the night of, we couldn’t get out because we were staying out in the Illinois woods and it was snowing enough to make the return trip too treacherous. As much as that’s one of the main shows of my life I wish I’d seen, I’m glad that Brad got to see them and tell me about it later. I hope I can catch them in NYC.

22. Sunny Blacks Band - “Mission spéciale”

OK, I admit that I’m obsessed with Melome Clement — or Meloclem, as he is known by some in Benin. He’s the composer of hundreds of T.P. Orchestre songs, and I’ve written about him a ton. I know he plays some horns and I believe he plays the slashing guitar that you hear in this track. I don’t think that’s him singing but I’m not sure; his voice is very malleable. Sunny Blacks Band is the group he was playing with when the T.P. Orchestre guys found him. It’s hard music to track down, but I love how much it rocks — or “jerks,” as they said at the time. We’ve also played the track “Holonon Die” on here and it jerks too, with an extended, wild electric guitar solo over pulsing trap and hand drums. What a freakin powerhouse Meloclem is.

23. Betti-Betti - “La Vie de Bettie Bettie Chanteuse Camerounaise”

This recording is a beautiful mystery. It appears in a film called “Badiaga,” which I encountered while looking for music by Betti-Betti, a superstar within her nation of Cameroon. This comes from one of the final scenes in the movie. There are different summations of the film (we don’t understand the language of the film itself), but apparently the story is “inspired by” the story of Betti-Betti, who was discovered as a child wandering in a marketplace, brought up extremely poor and eventually sang (a cappella?) on the radio, whereupon she became an instant success. She played constant shows and played with many of the region’s heaviest hitters, including T.P. Orchestre (they recorded an album together, which is how we found out about her). As for this recording — I don’t know if this is sung by Betti-Betti or by the actress playing her. And I don’t know the male character singing alongside her, though I’m guessing he’s a real-life music figure himself. It’s a beautiful duet, rich with feeling, and the performance footage throughout the movie is electrifying. 

P.S. This film is also how I found out about Eko Roosevelt, whose “Me To a Dey My Own” is an epic upbeat number we’ve played on WBFF!

24. Guided By Voices - “The Goldheart Mountaintop Queen Directory”

A perfect song, meant for the opposite of social distancing: to be sung full-bore in a crowd with one’s arms slung around sweating strangers, straight into the face of the band (I’ll be the one hooting the recorder part). This is how legends are made. 

 - Janko Nilovic & Soul Surfers - “Maze of Sounds”

I love the bass part on this album as much as the album artwork, which we will surely have included somewhere around here. This guy’s story is pretty interesting: he was born in Istanbul to a Montenegrin father and Greek mother, and his career started by working with French singer Davy Jones (but not THAT Davy Jones) in 1967. He got into recording for sound libraries, working in soul and funk and psych music, gained a serious composing rep and eventually, maybe inevitably, his music started getting sampled by the likes of Dr. Dre and Jay Z. Not bad, not bad!

25. Gnonnas Pedro et Ses Dadjes - “La Musica en Verité”

Maybe someday we’ll release the version of this song that we recorded in the early days of the pandemic. This is the final track (if not the final song) on the immortal “Legends of Benin” album on Analog Africa. My favorite aspect is how the guitar plays the same mesmerizing piece throughout, but the percussion evolves over the course of the song until it has gradually changed completely. It’s a subtle dynamic but it’s a master clinic in how to run a drone song the right way. Also, that organ part is just beautiful.

[queenielynn19]

Hi pumpkins! I haven’t gotten any requests but I still want to write, so I’m just gonna do some general head cannons for the Mystic Messenger characters. Hope you enjoy :)

General Headcannons:

Yoosung-

•Yoosung really loves animals, but he has a huge aversion to bugs and insects of any kind.

•If his MC is also afraid of bugs, you can be assured he will be calling Seven over to kill the spider in the corner.

•His favorite food is Omurice, and he will cook it for his MC whenever they ask (even if the presentation isn’t good)

•He owns underwear from like 6 years ago and even though they’re covered in holes and bleach stains, he refuses to throw them away.

•Getting him to do laundry is a chore in itself, and if you catch him doing laundry out of free will, call the police, that’s not Yoosung

•He also has an aversion to leather. He says it feels weird on his skin. He opts to have a car with cloth interiors and couches that are cloth over leather.

Zen-

•You may think Zen has perfect genetics, and that skincare only compliments what he already has

•You’d be wrong

•Zen actually struggled a lot with acne throughout highschool. His skin was very sensitive and would break out all the time

•After his first major production, he was able to afford Acutane medicine which cleared his skin up almost instantly.

•Of course, he’s obsessed with skincare now to maintain his look, but if his MC ever feels insecure about their acne, he always assures them that he’s been there too.

•He also despises anything that smells like the beach. He says is doesn’t feel authentic.

•He claims the beach doesn’t have a smell, and it’s just usually obnoxious coconut and lime scents sold in a pretty bottle. He much more prefers perfumes and colognes with a sweeter scent like baked goods or spices.

Jaehee-

•Despite how tired you’d think she’d be after dealing with all of Jumin’s shit, she’s actually a very light sleeper

•Even the slightest sound like the sink being turned on can wake her up in a second

•While this is the case, she really never minds being woken up by her MC

•She’s very cuddly when she’s tired and clings to you like a koala.

•Despite what she may say, she much prefers a sweet latte than an espresso drink.

•She feels that by saying she prefers strong coffee, it gives her a more professional edge.

•In reality, she loves a good French vanilla latte with soy milk

Jumin

•Mr Trustfund Kid has trust issues

•He’s always been known to be quite stingy with his money, always keeping track of his finances because you can never be sure when an emergency will happen and you’re only left with the clothes on your back.

•However, if MC even gives the slightest inclination that they want something, he’s practically already bought it.

•Unless it’s another cat

•He says that he doesn’t see himself getting another cat after Elizabeth The 3rd has passed on, as he doesn’t think he can feel that same connection with a different cat

•Regardless, he is and will always be a cat person. They have the same energy.

Seven-

(Preface, he is my fav character hehehe)

•Seven seems very happy go lucky on the outside, but he can have a very sensitive and sweet side when he wants to

•He acts very confident around others, but his MC makes him feel very open to his emotions

•His favorite thing to do when he finishes a long day of work is to snuggle on the couch with MC and watch a movie or TV show.

•He really likes Indian take-out food, and suggest it for practically every meal

•While Vanderwood usually denies his requests and makes him eat something healthier, on occasion he will give in and place an order of curry and rice.

•Seven has a severe allergy to shellfish and carries an epipen with him pretty much anywhere he goes

•He calls it his “Anti-Death Meth” which makes Vanderwood laugh out loud whenever he calls it that

•He’s only had to use it once, and it was when he was drunk with Yoosung, and decided to order shrimp cocktail at a restaurant

•Needless to say, that didn’t go well. It did make for a very eventful night in the hospital where the RFA came to visit him

•His eyes were so swollen he couldn’t see, and Zen won’t ever let him live it down

Hope you guys enjoyed! This is my first time writing headcannons so my writing style may not be perfect. Requests are open!

-Queenie 🧃

[artificialqueens]

Not Casual At All: Things Left Unsaid (biadore) - Miss Alyssa Secret

Not Casual At All continues with 5,500 words of biadore smut and feelings, based on the prompt of Danny surprising Roy in his dressing room.  Set this past Wednesday 8 May, before Adore appeared at Rain on Saturday.

Related fics:

ABCD dressing room

What Happens in the Sewing Room

I tried for shameless, plotless porn, but failed spectacularly.  - MAS  

********

Bianca paused across the dressing room threshold, leaning back on the closed door with eyes closed and taking a deep breath.  Opening her eyes, she met her reflected gaze in the mirror with a sigh.

Two shows in one day had them all exhausted, the marathon of a musical so different from her own comedy tour.  Staying in one place for an extended amount of time was wonderful, but the intensity of performing daily (and going from boy to queen in less than twenty minutes) was the trade off.

Even out of drag, meeting fans at the stage door - while always enjoyable - meant she was still wearing Bianca.

Bianca’s name was the one people called out, the one signed on programs and tickets.

Bianca was also the reason that Roy Haylock, costumer by day and sharp-tongued comic by night, was able to travel the world and perform for thousands of fans at sold out venues.

A reporter in the Philippines asked what he would be doing without Bianca.  Leaving aside that she had always existed in his head in the form of biting commentary, it wasn’t a particularly difficult question to answer.  Roy had been more than satisfied draping and designing for Broadway and coming home to his shoebox of an apartment with Sammy and Dede.  Life wasn’t empty without Bianca, just different.

Without her though, he never would have had the experience of Drag Race.  Without Drag Race, Bianca wouldn’t have met Adore and Courtney and Darienne.  And without them - especially Adore - he might not have let down the wall around his heart. 

Tossing his Sharpie on the table, Roy pushed his glasses up and ran a hand over his face.  Being in different corners of the world was hardly unusual, but even the group text was no substitute for spending time in person.  He’d been spoiled by those weeks at home, meeting up with friends for brunch and shopping downtown.  Evenings out at the club or bar dancing and drinking with Adore and her endless supply of wigs.  Lazy days with Danny on his couch talking over everything, followed by nights in the same bed. 

Although he tried to tell himself he missed the sex (true), having Danny around meant more than that and it hardly happened every time they were together.  What did you label having regular, non-committed sex with your best friend?  Friends with benefits was too superficial, and ‘relationship’ felt too shallow to describe the kind of connection that went beyond anything physical. 

Sex with Adore, with Danny, was easy and satisfying.  It was interrupting a movie to suck each other off, a sleepy handjob after waking up together, or (one memorable time) pausing in the middle of fucking for conversation because Danny remembered a new restaurant he wanted to try.  Above all, it felt safe falling into bed with someone he trusted.  It was familiar and undemanding, no awkward morning after, with someone who already knew their way around his house, never mind his body. 

Non-committed didn’t mean fucking tons of other people, at least on Roy’s part.  He wasn’t joking about never knowing whether someone was genuinely interested in him or just wanted to get into Bianca’s wardrobe.  At the end of the day, needing to keep some things personal and private won out.  But asking Danny for - or even talking about - that kind of commitment would be unfair when they were on different continents several months out of the year.  

Speaking of separate continents, they wouldn’t cross paths again for months - Adore’s tour in Australia and Europe out of sync with Bianca’s engagements. 

Someone knocked on the door and he straightened from his slouch at the vanity table, twisting his lips into a smile from their introspective frown. 

“Yeah?” 

The knocking continued. 

“You can come in,” he called, wondering if it was some of the theatre staff who were still being far too polite.

He turned as the door opened, and had half a breath to be surprised before Danny lifted him off the chair into a hug. 

“What-“ The strength of his grip squeezed the air from his lungs, and for a moment Roy let himself relax completely, balanced up on his toes and faces buried in each other’s necks. 

Danny finally let go (and had he waited for him to lean back first?), lacing their fingers together tightly.  He was still carrying an overnight bag and smelled like stale airplane air, clothes rumpled (although with her closet, it was difficult to tell what was intentional and what was yesterday’s laundry on the floor).  There was a hint of eyeliner smeared on his lower lids and a dusting of glitter on the temples along with a few days’ worth of stubble, skating the edge of gender construct as ever. 

Roy opened his mouth to say something, but the sudden tightness in his chest choked the words back.  Instead, he squeezed Danny’s hands in silence, soaking in the warmth of Adore’s sweet smile on his face. 

“Hi.” 

******** 

Danny took a moment to really look at him, taking in the loose black sweater and pants, the slouchy knit hat, and exhausted brown eyes.  Even in his oversized glasses and without paint, he could see traces of Bianca clinging to Roy.  It was more than the red stain of lipstick, something about the way his shoulders were tense as if he couldn’t relax enough to shed her presence. 

Dropping the bag, he sat down and pulled Roy onto his lap with only minor protest.  Roy always ran cold out of drag, and he immediately wrapped both arms around him again.  The weight of his head came to rest on Danny’s shoulder, face hidden against his neck. Despite the days of rehearsals and backstage mayhem, he didn’t seem to be noticeably thinner than when Danny kissed him goodbye a few weeks ago.  Relieved that Roy was at least taking care of his body, Danny focused on his energy as he spoke. 

“What are you doing here?  Not that I’m complaining, I just - aren’t you and Bunny hosting at Rain on Saturday?”  Roy didn’t bother lifting his head, words murmured between them. 

“Yup.” 

“You aren’t staying, are you?”  The question was more of a statement, shaded with a hint of wistfulness. 

“Yeah,” Danny shifted their weight enough to slide one hand underneath the baggy sweater, arm curved against bare skin, “I gotta go back tomorrow night.  I was kind of hoping you’d let me crash with you.”  

The way his body sagged into Danny’s arm was both concerning and something that he’d think about later.  Preferably when he wasn’t completely sober, because his situation with Roy was simultaneously the simplest and the most difficult relationship he had in his life. 

Roy raised his head after a moment, not to reply but to rest their foreheads together.  He smelled like coconut oil makeup remover and the musty aroma somehow present in all theatres no matter how new. 

“What are you doing here, pussyface?” 

As if Roy didn’t already know.  But maybe he needed to hear it said out loud? 

Danny carefully extracted one arm, wrapping fingers around the back of his neck to squeeze gently. 

“I’m here for you, Willow.” 

******** 

Being at a loss for words was becoming a pattern tonight, one that was unfamiliar to Roy.  Clown face or not, he usually had a quick answer; Danny taking a trans-Atlantic flight to see him for less than twenty four hours was something else.  His mental Rolodex didn’t have any entries under ‘Best friend: what to do when they do something completely impractical that you shouldn’t encourage but are very happy they did’. 

There wasn’t any need to fill Danny in on how the show was going so far, no small talk to fill the air.  They’d covered that and more via text message and phone calls. 

“Have I mentioned,” he kept his tone light, “that you’re crazy and I love you?” 

The Adore smile was back, the one that curved her painted lips into a bracket of mischief.  Without lipstick, it settled on Danny’s mouth and only widened when he spoke. 

“Not today yet, but I know you were busy.” 

“I’m glad you’re here.  I’m supposed to tell you that you shouldn’t have wasted money and time when you’ve got a gig coming up, but…” Roy was already aware of the calculation in the back of his mind of how much time they really had together. 

“My turn to do something for you, bitch.” 

“Yeah?” 

Danny could usually read Bianca, and by extension Roy, with little effort.  Except this time, he wasn’t sure what exactly he should do, only that he couldn’t not follow the feeling tugging at the pit of his stomach that Roy needed him.  That feeling had led him to buying a plane ticket before he’d even stopped to consider if it was a good idea.

“Yeah.  I’m yours for the next twelve hours.  Thirteen.  Fifteen?  Whatever it is before 5 pm tomorrow.” 

Voices and footsteps passed outside the door, and Roy inhaled sharply, physically unmoving but the slightest emotional step away that prickled against Danny’s intuition.  He talked casually about energy all of the time, but being with Roy made him aware of everything that much more.  Without that sensitivity blunted by a buzz of any type, it felt like he was pulling back and Danny wasn’t going to let him. 

“Stop it.” 

“What?”  Roy frowned, not sure what he was referring to.  “I should take you to meet everyone.  There’s one of the girls in the cast who you’d love, and-mmmmphhhh“ 

The kiss effectively silenced his attempt to follow what should be proper hosting behavior and Roy lost himself in it without a struggle.  Danny’s mouth was soft against his, the way he flicked the tip of his tongue against the inside of his lips familiar and welcome.  Their mouths moved together slowly in a rhythm of licks and caresses that kept the kiss undemanding.  He could feel the heat radiating from Danny’s hand underneath his shirt, fingers fanned out to press firmly between his shoulders.  His own were buried in Danny’s hair, tugging in a way that was less controlling and more about anchoring them closer together. 

They pulled apart a moment later, Danny’s tongue darting out to catch the threads of saliva connecting their lips. 

“What do you need?”  He spoke the words against Roy’s mouth, not kissing but breathing the same air.  “Like, I’m cool with meeting the other guys if that’s what you want.  Or we can hit up the spots from the last time?  Or go back to yours and…” 

Danny paused for a breath, then frowned and leaned back enough to make steady eye contact.  “If you want me tonight, I’m yours.”  

I’m always yours, even when I’m with someone else. 

“However you wanna do things.  I mean, we don’t have to fuck, like of course I’m down if you are, but-“ 

Without Bianca’s blue eyes, Roy’s were soft with exhaustion and what might be a little bit of relief.  Danny waited, impatient but forcing himself to be still. 

“This- this is good.  Right here, us.” 

“Okay.”  If that’s what Roy wanted, Danny was happy to spend another hour making out in the dressing room.  He’d half expected him to insist on going out, maybe walking the London streets together, or going back to his rented flat and fucking each other into the mattress.  They’d done both over the years, and everything in between, but the slow kissing spoke more to Roy’s emotional state than anything else.  Roy always kissed confidently, sometimes dominant and demanding (Danny enjoyed those, usually because they accompanied the kind of rough sex that left them both coming hard), other times gentler and so sweet it made his chest ache strangely to think about.  Tonight though, his kisses felt almost tentative, as if he was afraid that Danny would change his mind if he pushed too hard. 

“Hold on,” he murmured, gripping Roy’s hips until he took the hint, wrapping his legs around Danny’s waist as he stood.  There was a high table by the window already half covered in bouquets and vases, and Danny pivoted to set him down there. 

“Remember the last time?” Roy laughed quietly. 

Danny paused for a moment, thinking about them in the bathroom of another dressing room a few months ago.  The position was the same, but the mood a polar opposite - hungry lust that night versus sensual comfort in the here and now.  He watched as Roy settled with his back to the wall between windows, clearly replaying that night as well.

“Yeah, but no corset no one waiting on us.  Right?” 

“Shouldn’t be.  Who else knows you’re here?” 

Danny moved to flip the lock on the door, also an improvement from the ABCD venue.  “Just John and Mom.  And the guy who let me in, he wanted to see my ID and everything and said he’d only do it if I signed his ass for his girlfriend.  Oh, and the blonde lady.  Faye?  She said hi when I was coming up the stairs.  And uhh, maybe some people I passed in the hall?” 

Instead of becoming impatient waiting for Danny to finish the list, Roy looked more amused with every name, reading between the lines.  “Okay, so half the cast?” 

“…yeah.  What did you tell them?” 

“Nothing to worry about, pussyface.  Just every dick pic you’ve ever sent me and that video of-“ 

“Hey!  You said you deleted it when I asked you to send it!” 

Roy chuckled, not the showy laugh but something quieter and more intimate. 

“I’m kidding.  And I couldn’t delete it, what else am I going to jerk off to in the tub?” 

“You know,” Danny narrowed his eyes, “I still can’t always tell when you’re serious.” 

That set off a Bianca cackle of glee. 

“Get back here, bitch,” he accompanied the words with a tug on Danny’s shirt.  “I missed you.” 

******** 

Ten minutes later, Roy’s sweater was off but otherwise they were still where they started, necking like teenagers in the backseat of a car with hands above the waist.  Danny was careful not to mark him, nothing that couldn’t be covered up easily.  He might not care right now if his castmates knew what they’d been up to, but Danny really was trying to work on the whole professional thing.  

Roy’s ankles were crossed just below Danny’s ass, and he used them to pull their bodies closer.  He groaned against his lips when the erection Danny had been successfully not grinding into him made contact with his thigh. 

“Was wondering if you were too tired from the flight,” Roy teased. 

“Hey, I can’t help it!”  He’d been trying to let Roy set the (extremely slow) pace and not push for more.  “You make me hard.”  Something else was contributing as well, but he kept that to himself for now.  

“Save it till we get back?  Should be a taxi outside, and-“ Roy was already hopping off the table and shoving clothes into his bag. 

“I can, but we don’t have to wait if you don’t want.” 

Slipping his glasses back on, Roy pinned him with a look.  “I really don’t have anything on me in here.  And-“ 

Danny cut him off again, actually ahead of Roy’s infamous over-preparedness for once.  Way ahead.  Possibly the only time, but he’d take it.  He reached into the outer pocket of his own bag, coming up with a travel sized bottle of lube and a condom. 

“Ta da!” 

As he watched, Roy licked his lips and closed his eyes briefly.  When they opened again, he shivered in anticipation at the hungry expression.  Danny recognized the signs of suppressed arousal, and moved closer until they were toe to toe.  

“You can have me right here,” he whispered intimately, “if that’s what you want.” 

“Considering what I’d like to do, you’d be more comfortable at mine.” The calmness of Roy’s voice was belied by his hands clenching against Danny’s sides.

“Nuh uhh.  I’m ready.” 

“…what?” 

“Airport.  Delta lounge.  I told you, I’m here for you however you need.” 

Roy’s gulp was audible, and Danny’s smile widened.  Apparently Bianca was the one picking up Adore’s traits, and not the other way around.  Glancing down, he could see a bulge outlined by Roy’s thin pants, nipples hard against the fabric of his tank top. 

“In fact…” Danny trailed his hand across Roy’s chest, tweaking a nipple through his shirt before sliding down to cup his growing erection.  “I’ve got a surprise for you.” 

It took a moment for the words to register, and Roy’s mouth was dry when he finally spoke. 

“More than just being here?” 

Danny caught Roy’s hands, lifting them to run his tongue over the sensitive skin between his fingers.  Truth be told, he was a bit uncomfortable, but the thought of doing something for Roy who was always a generous lover…well, it didn’t take away the slight awkwardness, but it was worth it. 

He guided their joined hands behind his back, nudging Roy to slip his hand under the waistband of his jeans.  His fingers skated over the edge of the jockstrap, squeezing a little more aggressively as they moved towards the center.  Danny locked their eyes together, tongue flicking across Roy’s palm as his other hand pulled aside the thong and came in contact with silicone. 

Danny had precisely six seconds between Roy finding the plug and then finding himself face down across the table.  All traces of diffidence and hesitation gone, he ground his clothed erection against Danny’s ass and grabbed a fistful of hair to yank his head back sharply.  His eyes were dark with want when their gazes met, breath fanning hot over Danny’s cheek. 

Roy paused for a fraction of a second, waiting for Danny’s slight nod.  The kiss he pressed to Danny’s temple was gentle acknowledgement before using his grip to shove him back down roughly.  His hands made quick work of Danny’s fly, jeans dropping to the floor for him to step out of and revealing the black straps hidden underneath.  Roy moaned low in his throat at the sight.  Danny’s ass was just as gorgeous as his thousands of Instagram followers knew, framed and lifted by the underwear, but he wasn’t bending over for them. 

He took the opportunity to look his fill, discarding his own loose pants and shirt and giving his cock a few slow strokes.  Danny wiggled his ass enticingly, and Roy could see him grinning against the tabletop, reflected in the lights on the window.  He squeezed one cheek and then the other before slapping Danny’s hip sharply. 

“You fucking cunt,” he groaned, affection warring with lust in his voice, “I can’t believe you.” 

Danny responded by reaching back to wrap his fingers around Roy’s cock, rubbing the head firmly against his ass.  “Only for you.” 

It was meant to be seductive and smug, but the quiet sincerity hung in the air between them, even as Roy could feel himself leaking over Danny’s fingers.  There was that thing they didn’t discuss.  

He leaned forward to kiss the back of Danny’s neck, fumbling for the condom as nimble fingers smeared the wetness down his shaft.  Danny’s thumb flicked over the slit, and Roy moaned out a curse, unable to resist thrusting into the tight grip. 

Pulling back reluctantly, he rolled the condom on and reached for the lube, running a teasing finger along the strap of Danny’s thong.  As he popped open the bottle, he took the opportunity to hook his finger underneath and stretched the strap before letting go abruptly.  It pinged back, the sound of elastic striking the silicone overshadowed by Danny’s surprised yelp. 

“Motherfu-“ 

Roy repeated the action, wicked grin forming as Danny whined. 

“I’m not fucking anyone’s mother.  Pussy isn’t-” 

“Fuck off.”  Danny twisted to look at him over his shoulder, face gone serious.  “Bianca isn’t invited tonight.” 

The automatic response was ninety five percent Roy, but he knew what Danny meant. "Sorry.“

“Hurry up, I’m fucking horny as fuck.”  Danny’s voice was back to playful, and Roy drizzled a generous amount of lube over his cock, hissing at the cool liquid. 

As soon as he set the bottle down, Danny was shimmying out of the thong, jockstrap still in place.  Pressing his chest against the table, he spread his legs a little wider and Roy was treated to the sight of dark purple silicone against skin shining with slickness that had nothing to do with his cock.  He’d have to remember to ask Danny later about fingering himself open in an airport bathroom… 

Tracing the base of the plug with one finger, Roy leaned forward until he was nuzzling right under Danny’s ear.  “Sure?  Last chance to change your mind and we can do this in a bed.” 

Danny looked up through heavy-lidded eyes.  Even Adore at her most seductive had nothing on his kiss-bitten lips and the invitation written in the curve of his back.  Roy knew full well it wasn’t surrender or submission.  Sex between them was as hot as it was precisely because they both kept a modicum of control. 

“Fuck.  Me.” 

The velvet-smooth, whiskey-deep demand went straight to his cock, balls tightening.  Straightening, he pinned Danny to the table with a hand between his shoulders and pulled the plug out before pushing all the way in in a single powerful thrust.  A loud moan that rose to end on a breathless whimper punched out from Danny’s lungs, and Roy let go of his shoulder to slap the hand over his mouth instead. 

He dropped the body warmed silicone and wrapped his fingers around the crest of Danny’s hip, gripping just below the band of his jockstrap.  It took a few seconds for the thrill of feeling Danny snug and slick and oh so hot around his cock to settle into something manageable.  When it felt like he wasn’t teetering on the edge of coming, he pulled out almost all the way before snapping his hips forward again once, twice, a dozen times in quick succession. 

Danny’s hands braced against the windowsill, shoving back to meet Roy’s thrusts.  Reflected in the glass, he looked drunk on lust, eyes unfocused and cheeks red above Roy’s hand as he pulled in harsh breaths through his nose.  Each slap of his hips meeting Danny’s ass was followed with muffled moans and whines vibrating against his palm. 

Danny gripped the sill with knuckles gone white, fighting for the leverage to match Roy’s forceful fucking.  Roy was thick enough that he’d be feeling the stretch for hours after they finished, even with the ample preparation.  Every thrust pushed his hips against the edge of the table, bursts of friction against fabric an insufficient tease for his own painfully hard cock. 

On any given day, Danny wasn’t particularly inclined to bottom for most of his partners.  Besides the physical discomfort, it was difficult to be that vulnerable, and equally challenging to come during the act of fucking itself.  Roy was, as ever, an exception.  They still had occasional moments of awkwardness, but it was so much easier to manage when you weren’t worried about what the other person was thinking.  The sound of Roy’s moans alone, the barely audible whimper when he bottomed out, the half-choked back fucks and so good he forced out, were pure erotic music.  Coupled with what Danny could see reflected in the window…more than enough to keep him hard and leaking. 

The vanity bulbs cast their corner of the room in harsh light and shadow, washing out colors and bringing details into sharp contrast.  Roy’s eyes were mostly closed, mouth open as he gasped for air, lips and chest flushed a dusky hue.  His hair was soaked with sweat and clinging to his forehead, stomach muscles flexing with every powerful thrust.      

Shifting his chin up, Danny set his teeth against Roy’s palm and bit down.  He felt so open, but it wasn’t enough.  Not yet.   

Their eyes met in the glass, Danny’s heavy with desire and Roy’s glazed over with pleasure.  He slowed the rhythm of his hips, pulling his hand back from Danny’s mouth as he buried his cock deep before leaning down.  Danny’s whimper in response was drowned out by Roy’s husky growl as he clenched down.  Turning his head, he met Roy’s mouth in an awkwardly angled kiss. 

“Still okay?”  The hand that had been squeezing bruises into Danny’s hip came up to stroke the hair back from his face. 

“…yeah.  M’good.” 

Roy shuddered at the sound of Danny’s sex-ruined voice, hips giving an involuntary jerk.  He curved his fingers around Danny’s cheek in an intimate gesture at odds with the roughness moments ago. 

“Do you -  oh fuck…do you want to change?”  

Danny nodded, pushing his chest off the table and wincing as Roy pulled out.  He boosted himself up to lie flat, smiling thanks when Roy tucked his discarded sweater between his head and the painted brick.  The jockstrap joined the pile of other clothes on the floor and he planted both feet on the edge of the table, legs spread wide around Roy’s hips. 

Black-nailed fingers carefully traced his stretched hole, slicking it with more lube before sliding inside to stroke the cool liquid onto heated flesh. 

“Fuuuuuuuuuuuccccckkkk,” Danny breathed out, palming his own cock and smearing sticky pre-come across the shaft.  The moan turned into a series of whimpers when Roy moved his hand aside, replacing it with his own fingers. 

”Don’t gotta.”  Danny caught his hand clumsily as Roy reached for a condom.  “ ‘m clean.”

“Bitch,” that was definitely a stare Bianca borrowed from Roy as he paused mid-stroke, “why didn’t you tell me before?”

”Not walking back with your cum dripping out of my-“ His words cut off with a moan when Roy deliberately twisted the fingers still knuckle-deep in his ass.

”When have I ever- never mind.”  

Tossing the condom aside, he licked a wet stripe from base to tip, smearing pre-come over his lips, then curled his tongue around the leaking head to draw it into his mouth.   Danny thrust up into heat and tightness, cock sliding over Roy’s swollen lips as he sucked and finger-fucked him.  Two fingers became three, Roy’s moans matching Danny’s with every thrust as he lost himself in pleasuring him.

Danny tugged on his hair a minute later, and Roy let his cock fall from his mouth reluctantly.  He stood with a kiss to a trembling inner thigh, slipping his fingers out. 

“Ready?” 

“Mmmmhmmmm.” 

Danny pressed his shoulders against the table, arching up in invitation.  He kept his eyes open, locked on Roy as he pushed back in slowly.  Catching one of Danny’s legs in the crook of his arm, Roy tipped his hips up to slide in deeper than before.  He paused there, buried to the hilt in Danny’s ass and rocking gently.  

“Fuck…”  If Danny voice was lust-drunk before, he sounded positively fucked out now.  “Oh fuck, B…”  

“Yeah? S’it good?”  Roy kept up the barely-there roll of his hips, fucking into him in a way that made them both moan and Roy wish that he could feel it without a layer of latex between them. That was something (the one thing?) they’d never tried, mutual avoidance of even discussing the possibility.  Roy told himself it was only because it was too risky despite precautions… too much like commitment.

Danny wrapped his free leg around Roy’s trim waist, slipping against sweaty skin and fingers tracing the line left from the corset.  He clamped his heel against the small of his back, effectively preventing Roy from pulling out more than a couple of inches.  Every movement Roy made inside of him felt exquisitely sensitive, from the stretch of his sore hole around the thick cock to the spark of lightning up his spine when he bottomed out.  

Reaching up, he traced over Roy’s throat, fingers traveling across his chin to caress his lips.  Roy caught a teasing finger gently between his teeth and wrapped his lips around it.  Mimicking the actions performed on Danny’s cock, he sucked the full length and lavished attention on the fingertip with his tongue while moaning around it.

The wet pop when Danny pulled his finger free went straight to his balls.  He tugged Roy down until their lips met, hips setting up a counterpoint to the deliciously slow fucking.  Roy always kissed with his eyes open, something that Danny didn’t understand but appreciated in the urgent kisses as they panted into each other’s mouth.  Despite the obscenely sexual context, his eyes held a different kind of intensity mingled with lust.

When Roy tilted his hips a little further up, the new angle provoked a breathless whimper.  He concentrated his thrusts until he heard it again and focused on driving his cock into that spot over and over, Danny’s whimpers mingling with his own satisfied moans.  Danny’s hand dropped from behind his neck, knocking aside bouquets to clamp onto the edge of the table.  Petals scattered around and underneath him and onto the floor, filling the room with the heady scent of roses.

Roy slid his hand underneath Danny’s head, fingers gripping sex-tangled hair as he pressed their cheeks together, needing to be somehow closer.  The motion pushed Danny’s leg further back against his chest, nails digging into Roy’s arm with every thrust.  Maintaining his white-knuckled grip on the table felt like the only thing keeping him anchored, the only thing keeping Danny from blurting out endearments and pleas and promises on each breath.  

He bit down on Roy’s shoulder when he felt his free hand slide between them to circle his cock, jerking him off in tight strokes.  The relentlessly deliberate rhythm of fucking was driving them both to the edge.  Moments later, a wordless, high-pitched whine meant Roy was close, chasing his own orgasm and determined to bring Danny along.  

“Oh fuck…” Roy’s exclamation was barely audible over the sound of their bodies meeting.  “Close, angel.  Can’t…M’gonna-“

Danny clenched down around him, growling against Roy’s shoulder before releasing it from his teeth.  His voice was raspy, ruined when he whispered, “Let go.  Come for me.”

Roy inhaled sharply, driving his cock as far in as possible, and came with a strangled moan. Danny kept up a string of satisfied murmurs and yes, that’s it as Roy rode out his orgasm, hand gone slack between them.  

Letting go of the table, he pushed the nerveless hand aside and rapidly stroked himself, hips rocking to rub the head of his cock against Roy’s stomach.  Roy was still coming down when Danny arched underneath him and cried out his own release, whimpering as he tensed around his over sensitive cock.

Danny opened his eyes an indeterminate amount of time later, legs dropping to hang off the edge of the table.  Roy wasn’t precisely dead weight on his upper body, but it wasn’t far off.  His hand moved to the slick place where they were joined together, caressing the still-throbbing shaft before shoving Roy back with his knuckles.  

“Out.  Sore.”

Roy was gentle pulling out, but he still winced at the slide.  Catching the expression before he could hide it, Roy frowned.

“Too hard?”

”Nah.”

”You’re supposed to tell me if it hurts.”  Roy paused with the condom halfway off, concern written over his face.  “Pussyface, I’ll stop.  You know that.”

”Nuh uhh.”  Speaking in more than single syllables seemed like too much work. “S’good. Just…” Danny’s lips twitched into a hint of a smile, “you.  You’re big.”

Roy huffed out a breath of laughter, reaching for a makeup towel and bottle of water to clean them off.  He soothed the skin with soft touches as he swept away lube and sweat before wiping the cum off their bodies.  A twinge of guilt tugged at him when Danny hissed as he held him open to run the towel gently between his legs.  

Tossing the damp towel into a pile, he held out his hands.

”C’mere.”

They ended up collapsing on the nearby couch together, Danny half on top of him.  The silence was filled with breathing slowly returning to normal, air now stuffy with the smell of sex and crushed roses.

”Thank you.”

Danny raised his head at the quiet words.  Roy wasn’t usually chatty after sex, preferring to communicate in touch until they finished coming down. 

Unsure of the meaning, he answered with a noncommittal, “Mmmm?”

”For this.  Doing this for me.”  Danny tried to prop himself up further, pausing when Roy’s arms tightened around his shoulders.

”What…?  I got off too.”  He pushed against Roy’s chest until he loosened his grip enough for Danny to see his face.

Roy’s dark eyes were half-lidded in sated pleasure, but they were filled with the same intense something from earlier while they were fucking.

He chose the next words carefully, even as he still wasn’t quite sure why it felt important. 

“Anything for you, Willow.”

[hookaroo]

Vocivore, Ltd. (36 of 42?)

Also on FFN and AO3 (ListerofTardis)

Tagging @ouatwinterwhump, @killian-whump, @sancocnutclub, @killianjonesownsmyheart1, @courtorderedcake, @facesiousbutton82 <3

***THE MOST WONDERFUL, HEARTBREAKING, and BEAUTIFULLY WHUMPY COVER ART BY @cocohook38 HERE and HERE!!!!!!!!!*************

***Chapter 12 animation and art that will absolutely astound you!!!!!!!!!**********

***LETHAL Chapter 19 art in all of its BLOODSTAINED GLORY!!!!************

**POOR STABBED KILLIAN falling into the sheriff station! Ch. 7 & 23 art!!**

****KILLIAN AND HIS MASTER IN THE GORGEOUS CATHEDRAL!!!!!!!!!!!!    CHAPTER 1 ART THAT KILLS ME EVERY TIME I SEE IT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!*********

*CH 34 ART! A DEFEATED KILLIAN, HEAD BOWED BEFORE HIS MASTER!!*

***AAAAHHHH!!! THANK YOU MY WONDERFUL COCONUT FRIEND!!!!!!***

Present (Friday, continued)...

The terrible, grating screech of the church's crooked door negated any chance of sneaking in unnoticed, but Jones somehow doubted that stealth was ever Emma's intent. She stormed into the cathedral, yanking her arm from his pretend grip, unraveling the ropes in an explosion of uncontained fury.

"Get away from him, you bastard!!"

Jones caught a brief glimpse of an enormous hulking figure near the opposite end of the sanctuary, its hunched bulk dappled with tinted sunlight, but then his attention turned to a more pressing matter: the group of guard slaves clambering to their feet along either wall. He drew his stun gun and took aim. He could not worry about Emma now; his only chance of helping would be to watch her back.

The continuous ache from his injured sternum grew ever sharper with each squeeze of the trigger; in fact, it seemed to be radiating gradually upward in bursts, like the pulse of blood through his veins. He ignored it and sought a way to blockade themselves inside, to keep out further foes until the Master could be subdued. He heard Emma's gun roaring as she stalked down the center aisle, apparently willing to gamble that Killian would not be struck by a stray bullet.

Another stunned slave went down hard near a tipped pew. Jones bent to grasp the seat, prepared to drag the entire bench in front of the door. They had all the makings of a respectable barricade, if he could only…

His hand flew to his chest with the first pull as massive, crushing pain accompanied the effort, leaving him staggered and breathless, feeling exactly where he'd been three years ago, when the poison in his heart was at its strongest. But that couldn't be... he was cured... it was impossible for…

KNEEL.

The detective found himself on his knees even before the voice had finished reverberating through his mind. He shook his head, disoriented and still clutching his chest. The Master... it was coming... and he had to…

More grim slaves marched through the door, and Jones meant to stun them, but found he could not raise his gun.

He really ought to warn Emma.

NO.

He didn't. Couldn't.

The sheriff put up a good struggle but was quickly overwhelmed.

So was he, unnecessarily. Fellow slaves surrounded him. Not touching, knowing he was as good as bound, there on his knees with his Master's will pressing down.

Emma snarled, a wild sound of pure frustration. The beast on the dais rose and swiveled to face the intruders. Behind it, partially obscured by gnarled crab legs and writhing tentacles, slumped Killian, ashen and still.

The Master, despite an obvious bullet wound through its shoulder, exuded calm. It smiled coldly.

"Sheriff. And Tripod the Second. I've been waiting for this day." It used a handkerchief to clean ominously human-looking blood from its long fingers as it took a step closer. Emma started cussing the monster out; without emotion, it waved a mild hand and the nearest slave drove a fist into her middle. She reeled, silenced, the wind driven from her lungs.

A conflicted Jones knew he ought to take action but could not rise to his feet. No hands held him down; he was being restrained by an invisible force equally as effective. He found himself staring up into the Master's beady eyes. It leered down at him, and it seemed as if it were directly in front of him, not 15 yards away.

"This other human, the one who shares your face... he is a special favorite of mine," said the Master, glancing back at what very well could be Killian's corpse. "I've been... rather rough with him. I'm afraid I may have used him all up."  

It scuttled down the steps, stopped briefly in front of Emma, and said,

"I have enjoyed watching you, Sheriff. Your desperation. I don't normally get much pleasure from female Voices... but yours may be an exception."

Still out of breath, Emma nevertheless took the opportunity to tell the Master exactly where it should go. Its only response was a condescending pat on the head before it moved away.

The searing cramp in Jones' chest grew in intensity, and the small part of his mind that had so far evaded the Master's control wondered if he might be suffering an actual heart attack. In response to the stress of the situation, or the terror of what awaited him now that their plan had failed. He cringed back slightly as the monster neared, then heard the commanding voice again.

GIVE YOURSELF.

He froze, trembling. The Vocivore stopped a few feet away. A tentacle slithered out from beneath its waistcoat and traced the healing gash on his cheek, prompting a flinch that would not come. Absently scratching at its torso, the Master continued exploring its new prize.

"Thus far, you taste much the same, my three-legged one."

SLAVE.

The tentacle snaked its way down his front, past the bandaged torso, lower, lower, until it found the bottom hem of the borrowed slave costume. It curled upward again, lost from view, and for an instant, his Master took on Mother Gothel’s face, her cold leer smothering him in disdain as she held him with her dark power.

"I am inclined to allow myself a more thorough introduction.” The voice and face gradually resolved back into the five-eyed monster, and the tentacle slipped away with obvious reluctance. “But perhaps I should save you for a day when I'm missing my first Tripod..."

It pressed a claw to a violet stain in its clothing, looking vaguely miffed. "On the other hand, I do have need of extra energy just now. You can thank your sheriff friend over there while you scream for me, hmm?"

"Yes... Master..." came the strangled response, and Jones was hauled to his feet. He realized he still held the stun gun, and felt a sudden shame for having launched an attack on his Master. With eyes downcast, he offered the weapon to the imposing figure before him, who took it without a word. Its tentacle slithered down to Jones' handless wrist and curled around the fake ring there.

"Not a bad deception. But did you truly believe I would not sense your approach?"

"We..."

Jones trailed off. What had they been thinking? Why didn't they plan to immediately surrender themselves? In fact, what was the whole United Realms doing, plotting against their rightful Master? "I... I don't..."

He reached up to massage his eyes and found tears there. His chest throbbed fiercely; it was growing more and more difficult to breathe. His Master yanked suddenly on the coat hanger replica, which yielded easily, sliding free of the bandage holding it in place. A pincer joined the tentacle in exploration, gripping the cut end to bend the thin metal out of shape.

"I've lost my assistant, the one who designed and placed the original stake-and-ring restraint in your counterpart over there. But it appears he won't need it for much longer. I'm sure we can arrange for you to inherit it."

Revulsion and fear crashed over him, followed immediately by more shame. His Master knew best.

The Vocivore smiled, still rubbing at some invisible annoyance beneath the bloodstained breast pocket of its waistcoat. "For now, though... well… I was promised a scream."

It opened its pincer, revealing the now-straightened coat hanger entwined in its tentacle. A nod at the slave to Jones' right was enough to communicate its command, and the man snatched his wrist above his clenched fist and stretched his arm out toward their Master.

SCREAM FOR ME.

The jagged, cut end of the hangar snagged the skin of his upturned wrist, trailing fire as it went, until, with a quick and brutal thrust, the metal was driven into the flesh beneath his tattoo. A grunt of pained surprise accompanied the instinctive struggle, despite orders to the contrary. But it was not enough to produce a scream, even when more force was applied and the flexible metal burrowed its way further underneath the painted skin. Jones fought weakly, tense and growling, feeling the scalding, tearing trauma as several inches of foreign body deformed the subcutaneous tissue of his forearm.

Instead of continuing to enter smoothly, the metal suddenly bent at the puncture site, and the Master ceased the application of pressure. Its menacing face and jowls glistened with its own version of sweat, it was panting nearly as rapidly as Jones, and its five eyes reflected the barest hint of uneasy discomfort, but it continued to behave in a most dignified manner.

"Tripod the First was like this, to begin with. Stoic beyond reason. I should have expected no less from his duplicate."

Jones squinted his eyes open, remorse tightening his throat at the thought of having disappointed his Master. He caught a glimpse of the metal protruding from his arm and cringed, but kept silent. He heard Emma renew her efforts to escape; what was she doing? Didn't she know their Master had every right to do with them as it wished? The Vocivore, however, paid her no mind, trusting its guards to keep control. Almost carelessly, it wound the remaining length of hanger around Jones' wrist, fashioning an obscene bracelet of pain. Then it took a single step back.

Its newest slave watched through watering eyes as the monster prodded its own chest and examined the fingers that came away dry. Then it seemed to catch sight of the stun gun still hanging from its other hand, and it rotated the weapon thoughtfully back and forth, lifting it to eye level.

"Non-lethal, yes?" it remarked. Jones nodded. It took no great feat of imagination to predict what would happen next, and his adrenaline levels skyrocketed, but he stood resolute. If his Master willed it...

The muzzle came up to rest against Jones' left shoulder, just below the clavicle.

"At point-blank range?"

"I... don't know," murmured Jones, shivering. The gun pressed deeper; the Master's finger tightened on the trigger.

"Don't!" Emma pleaded, and she received a wallop to the jaw for her efforts.

I REQUIRE YOUR SCREAMS.

The startling pop of discharge preceded a red-hot surge of gunpowder. The force of the electrified projectile twisted Jones sideways and back, out of the grip of his guards. The first blaze of agony was immediately disrupted by a storm of power frying every nerve ending, contracting muscles in uncoordinated spasms and outlining his twitching form in pins and needles. The jolt to his brain restored true awareness of self, just for an instant, so that the Master became once again the enemy they fought. Its grotesque figure flickered with the same sparks swirling in Jones' vision; its voice fled his frazzled thoughts. And Jones knew he was going to die.

He struck the ground in possession of the knowledge, aware of that fact more than any other. When the charge burned itself out and shattered senses slowly gathered into regained continuity, and his diaphragm coordinated enough to resume its vital work, Jones’ thoughts turned to his daughter.

It was like an apology and a goodbye, the clarity of emotion drowning out all physical pain. Regret and yearning, loneliness and grief. He couldn’t bear to leave her, not now, not after all they’d been through… it wouldn’t be fair…

Jones’ screams, when they came, weren’t for the metal buried in his forearm or the shattered shock projectile embedded in his shoulder, but for the familiar, terrible pain in his heart.

And should anyone have chanced a look at the writhing, wounded man on the chapel floor, they may have noticed a pulsing green light shining between the fingers of his white-knuckled fist.

[welcometophu]

Extra: home is where the dinner heart is

So, this morning I thought to myself “I will write a chapter of ITS and all will be well” and that was good. Then I thought “oh hey, I should write a fic for Valentine’s Day” and I tried to pick a fandom and pairing.

Then I wrote this. Which um. Is the story of Valentine’s Day 2017 in the PHU ‘verse that no one asked for? 

This story takes place in Pawel’s home town, and introduces Leo and Colt and their foster kids. And yes, if you look, you’ll notice some references to parental background figures that have appeared, oh so briefly, in the PHU stories thus far.

Timewise, this takes place in the middle of both Not Your Love Song and Missed Fortunes and is sort of a prequel to a book that will eventually get written (it’s one of something like three books that take place during the summer after the current year at PHU). This is also hot off the fingertips and may include typos, sorry!!

home is where the dinner heart is

G, Colt/Leo, ~2200 words foster kids, Valentine’s Day, fluff, a little angst?

“I’ll be back in an hour.” Leo sticks his head into Cap’s office long enough for John to wave at him without looking up. Janusz Szczek may be a stern captain who expects excellence out of his officers, but he’s also fair, and understands family.

Which is a very good thing, because sometimes foster kids require a lot of understanding.

Colt’s waiting for Leo on the steps of the station, leaning against the stone wall near one of the lions that guard the building. It’s deliberate, and Leo would be more amused by Colt’s smirk and careful touch to the lion’s mane if they weren’t already running late. Colt stands before he gets there, greets him with a kiss and hands off a box of donut holes.

“Cookies have been delivered to Jennie’s pre-K this morning, and Nevaeh took Duke and Matthew to the bakery this morning to pick up cake pops for their best friends. Emma’s the only class left,” Colt says. “And yes, I’m coming with. But I’m not going into the station—I’ve heard the Julie’s on the hunt for me, and all case discussions will have to come after dad things.”

“Which means we’d better hit the road now,” Leo says, tucking his free arm in Colt’s and tugging him down the stairs. “John knows I’m gone, but Julie was just about to leave on a break, which means she’s heading this way.”

Colt winces. “Fuck, please tell me she’s not mom-on-duty for Emma’s class. Her kid’s a year older, right?”

“Jason’s in fifth grade, yeah.” Everyone knows everyone else’s family business in the station. Leo used to think it was weird, until he started fostering kids and now he realizes that life is just like that. It suddenly becomes about everything from diapers to driving lessons, and he’s still sorting out exactly how this happened. “And we’re late,” he points out, which is incredibly important because this is Em’s first school holiday in their lives.

“Good, because Julie has never agreed with the whole no work at school rule,” Colt grumbles. “I’ve run into her in the hallway, before Matt moved up to the middle school, and was trapped for a half hour talking case notes for a case I wasn’t even primary on.”

Leo snickers, amused. “I know. I remember you ranting about it.” He unwinds from Colt’s arm as they reach the ground; it’s easier to walk hand in hand, since Colt’s several inches shorter. “You didn’t bring me coffee.”

“You’re already six cups in on the day,” Colt says easily. “Figured you didn’t need more at this point.”

He’s not wrong. Leo’s shift starts at four in the morning, which means Colt’s stuck with getting the kids out the door every day, and Leo starts his day with several cups of coffee to wake up. Sleep has been a myth since Jennie came into their lives four years ago.

Thankfully the walk to the elementary school is only a few blocks, and they arrive with a steady stream of cars and parents walking in. It’s obvious that very little work is getting done that day, the school decorated in bright pinks, reds, and whites, and shouting coming from the classrooms. A pair of boys barrel past Colt and Leo as they wind their way through to the back hall, where the two third grade classrooms are, across the hall from each other.

Leo almost turns into the class on the left before a tug from Colt reminds him that Emma’s been placed in Eleanor Hammond’s class, on the right. Colt pushes open the door, and Leo winces at the shrieks from inside.

There are only twenty students, one teacher, and maybe a dozen parents, but it somehow seems like more. Colt takes the box of donut holes back from Leo and walks over to the table to drop it off, while Leo closes his eyes for a moment so he can focus through the chaos.

He hears Emma’s heartbeat, a tick faster than usual, her breath a soft surprised inhalation as she spots them. He opens his eyes and smiles slowly, raising one hand in greeting.

She blinks and doesn’t move from where she’s sitting at her desk on the far side of the room, right in front of Ms. Hammond’s desk. She’s the only kid still sitting down, and Leo threads through the crowd to get to her. He grabs one of the tiny chairs, lowering his 6’1” frame into it cautiously; it wouldn’t be the first time, if it broke. “Hey,” he says.

“Hey.” She pushes one of her braids back from her face, her jaw set tightly. “You both came.”

“We said we would.”

She picks up the top Valentine’s Day card on the stack on her desk, starts picking at the edge of it, tearing off tiny pieces. “Matt said if I hadn’t started living with you, you wouldn’t have had to do any school parties anymore.”

“He’s not lying.” Leo believes Matt said exactly that. He’s also sure Matt didn’t realize how Emma would take it. “We don’t mind being here. You’re part of the family now. You’re no less one of our kids than any of the others.”

“And maybe next year, when Jennie’s in kindergarten, you can get out of class for a bit and come down to her party with us,” Colt offers. He settles in on Leo’s knee, not bothering with another chair, and apparently not caring that anyone is looking.

Emma’s expression shutters, lips pressed thinly. “I won’t be with you next year,” she says curtly. “My parents will be back.”

Definitely not a conversation for now. “One holiday at a time, Colt,” Leo says, nudging his husband. “I think the bigger question right now is what kind of donut hole Emma prefers.”

Emma frowns. “Chocolate with toasted coconut,” she says, like it’s a challenge.

Colt holds out the hand he had hidden behind his back, two donut holes atop a napkin. Emma’s eyes go wide to see the exact kind she named and grabs for the napkin. She quickly nibbles at one of the donuts.

“Matt,” Colt subvocalizes, low enough that only Leo will pick it up.

That leaves Matt’s score even for the day. He tries. And Leo doesn’t love him any less when he manages to get things wrong. There are days when Matt is more Clan than human.

Emma relaxes slowly, shoulders easing as she finishes the donut holes. Colt goes to get her a juice box and a small plate of fruit and a (lesser, but apparently still okay) jelly filled donut hole. Leo reaches out to touch the stack of Valentines on Emma’s desk.

She wrinkles her nose. “Everyone had to give one to everyone in the class.”

Which Leo knows. Emma had refused to let Leo or Colt work with her the night before as she wrote hers out and carefully addressed tiny cards. Nevaeh had helped her attach a lollipop to each one while Duke sat nearby, sketching.

“They don’t actually know me,” Emma mumbles. “Or care. Besides. I won’t be here long.”

“You know you can stay with us as long as you’d like, right, Em?” Leo says softly. He sets down a card that says You’re Purr-Fect with a picture of a lion on it. She snickers softly when she picks it up.

“Noah’s nice,” she says, before she sets the card down again. Leo isn’t sure who Noah is, but he’s the first student in the class that Emma’s referred to by name, so he counts that as progress.

Leo could push the point, but he won’t, not now. Not yet. It’s only been a few weeks since Emma was found on her own, her parents missing. She was cold and alone and had to be taken from everything she knew to come here. She’s only nine years old, and she’s scared. She’s not Leo and Colt’s first foster—she’s their fifth. And in some ways, she’s their most terrifying. They know the other four are with them for good. Matthew’s parents gave him up when he Emerged, and Nevaeh and Jennie were officially placed after the determination that their parents were a danger to Talented children. Duke’s parents are known to be dead, something Duke still refuses to speak about.

But Emma… her parents are simply missing. They could come back. And no one knows what happened, or whether there’s a danger to Emma herself.

And it may have only been a few weeks, but she’s already part of their small family. Leo hopes that she might find her parents again someday, that they’re safe and Emma will be happy. But at the same time, he’d be loathe to see her go.

Colt returns and sets a plate in front of Emma along with a small box of grape juice. He slides across a small heart-shaped box, and her brow furrows all over again. “What’s that?” she asks.

“Open it,” Colt says. He stands with his hands on Leo’s shoulders, and Leo reaches up to tangle their fingers together.

She pulls the top off, and the chocolate inside doesn’t survive first encounter. A dark chocolate caramel goes into her mouth, shoved to one side as she chews slowly and lifts out the wooden disk that was long ago colored with purple crayon. “Thedinnerheart?” she asks, the words running together and almost indistinct, her mouth still full of caramel.

“Jennie had it for tonight, and she gave it to Nevaeh to give to you,” Leo says. He reaches out, waiting until she leans a little closer before he sets his hand atop her head, strokes lightly over her braids. “She said she didn’t want your heart to hurt so much,” he says quietly. She’d also said that she hopes Emma chooses chocolate, but Leo figures that part doesn’t need to be said.

“But it’s Jennie’s turn,” Emma protests. “We had a lottery and everything. Matt said it wasn’t fair because he hasn’t had it a year and Jennie just had it at Thanksgiving.”

“Matthew will have it on his birthday, if he doesn’t get it before that,” Colt says. He closes Emma’s fingers around the small piece of wood. “It’s yours tonight, but that means you don’t have a lot of time to think about what you want. So I was figuring, you guys won’t be doing much after this party. So maybe you and me will walk Leo back to the station, and then we’ll go shopping to pick up the best Valentine’s Day dinner ever for the house. You can help me cook, and we’ll do whatever you want.”

Emma purses her lips, sits back and tilts her chin. “What if I want chocolate waffles with cherry sauce and vanilla ice cream? And bacon?”

“Then we need to buy ice cream because Duke ate the last of it last night, and we have to find a recipe for chocolate waffles,” Colt replies.

Leo could kiss him when that makes Emma smile.

“I know how to find the best recipe for chocolate waffles,” she confides. “My mom made them.”

It’s the first time she’s mentioned her mother without tears, and Leo prays that maybe it’ll get better from here. It’ll never be perfect, and Emma will probably never be completely all right. Not for a long time. But he’s willing to take progress.

Colt sweeps up the Valentine’s Day cards and tucks them into the paper bag mailbox Emma had made, handing them off to Leo. “Come on,” he says, offering his hand. “Let’s go talk to Ms. Hammond.”

Emma’s gaze drops to her still-full plate and she raises an eyebrow. “How about you go talk to Ms. Hammond, and I’ll eat.”

Colt kisses his fingertips, presses them against her forehead. “We’ll do that, and Leo and I will be waiting by the coats. Come get us when you’re ready to go.”

It’s only a matter of a few minutes to make arrangements with Ms. Hammond, but by the time the look over, there’s a boy and another girl sitting closer to Emma, talking while they all finish eating. Leo could probably listen in if he wanted to but it’s enough for him to see Emma smile shyly.

Colt leans in close, and Leo slides an arm around him, kissing his temple.

“There’s a reason we only let the kids pick dinner on birthdays and holidays,” Colt murmurs. “But this time, especially, I think it’s worth it.”

“Was it really Jennie’s idea?” Leo asks.

Colt snorts. “Not entirely. I’m pretty sure Matt said something, and so did Nevaeh. They’ve all got Emma’s back. She’ll figure it out soon enough. I’m just—I’m thankful for all of them, Leo.”

This is their family, broken and awkward as it is. And Leo is thankful for every single one of them as well. “Wouldn’t be home without them,” he agrees. He resolves to get a picture of the kids that night, something to send off to Lucy and Rowan to show them how well they’re doing. To show that the network’s working, that these kids are safe.

They all have a home.

[zombiiesque]

Nocturne Alchemy Vaults: Part One

Originally published on 4/30/2019

I'm on a mission, after completing my month of samples! I've got a good collection of what I call Vaults - perfumes from the early days of Nocturne Alchemy, long before I started collecting. And I tend to hoard these, rather than wearing them. I don't think I have enough for a solid month, but I'm going to try to do a few weeks of these, spread out over the course of a month, and do a bi-weekly update. Maybe it will force me to wear these beauties as intended!

I have a mixture of both LC (limited collection) and PC (permanent collection), but it's mostly LC in these, so I want to go ahead and warn you now, these are probably hard to get, but it can't hurt to put out an ISO (in search of) in the NA Marketplace Facebook group. They age wonderfully, so it might be worth the hunt!

Let's get this shindig started!

Eternal Egypt Summer Crystalline REZ: White Amber Absolute, Limestone Amber Resin, Lime Zest, Saffron, Gold Santalum, Moonstone (African White Vanilla Bean), with the new addition of Crystalline (Egyptian Vanilla Orchid stigma Resin) Absolute aged with Kyphi (a honey, raisin, & wine based incense), Guaiacwood eo, Mandarin Skin, Egyptian Sugar and French Golden Amber Resin. This baby is a favorite of mine, I have several backups of this with varying fill levels that I've nabbed over time from the Marketplace, and from Laura. It came out in 2015, the first year I started collecting NA. It's SO, SO GOOD. Like, my ultimate summer scent, honestly - besides the Tea collection! I will continue to keep an eagle eye out for more. A girl can never have too many, right? Right!! Hah. Okay, so if you've ever experienced Eternal Egypt, this is an enhanced version, with a zip of citrus (the lime is fabulous, seriously) and the beauty of Crystalline vanilla - honestly, it's just the right amount, it doesn't take over the other notes. It's so aged, I don't get really the kyphi, which I love, or the saffron. But that's okay. It seems simple, but there's definitely some complexity. I have raved and raved about this one, maybe one day they'll make a version something like it in the future! PS. If you haven't tried Eternal Egypt, what in the world are you waiting for? Remedy that as quickly as possible! *wink* Seriously, it's a fan favorite, and it's a lovely scent.

SP 8: Sandalwood, Teak, Rosewood, Cedar, Black Amber, Black Musk, Black Myrrh and Black Patchouli in a sea of memory. This is from 2013. This is a beautifully dark scent, the woods and resins are just, at this point, incredibly potent. I don't need a lot. I love to pair this with a vanilla, like Crystal, or Protoceratops, to keep it from going too dark on me. I think this one is pretty unisex, and I think it would be fantastic on a guy too. The sweetness of the myrrh, amber, and cedar is perfect against the heavier patchouli and black musk. I don't know a lot about this collection, but somewhere in my dusty memory I remember that SP stands for Steam Punk, and this was a pretty limited collection, so I treasure having both this and SKL, below.

SP SKL: Damp woods, Aged Velvet Crystal Vanilla (Vanilla Musk), the scent of old linen in a coffin, a touch of graveyard musk and a sentient of mystery. Like SP 8, this is also from 2013. Gorgeous. I have a bottle of Crystal, from the SL section, and I love it. First thing I catch is that vanilla musk, but it's aged and deepened. Paired with the woods, this is so gothic. I particularly love to wear this one in the fall and winter, it feels very cozy and like a warm, dark hug. There's like a dark sexiness lurking under the snuggly vanilla.

Cleopatra Moon: Fresh Peach Incense, Peach Essence, Egyptian Frankincense Resinoid, Egyptian Myrrh Lite Resinoid, Sapphire Amber-Musk, Persian Sandalwood, White Peppercorn Essential Oil and a drop of Egyptian Hibiscus and a breath of Egyptian Hyacinth Petal. This treasure is from 2011, the Pharaoh Moons collection, from what I can see. I got this one from my friend Melissa, and oh, how hard did I fall for this? She's gorgeous. It starts out with their luscious, juicy peach, just bursting out of the bottle and onto your skin. That's followed closely by a melange of resins, so well blended I can barely pick them out, but I think that the Sapphire keeps this bright and helps the peach linger. I don't really get the hibiscus or hyacinth, on my skin - they may be background notes, or as aged as this is, impossible to discern. I do get a little kick of pepper, which is always a welcome smell for me. It adds the slightest spiciness, but it's not obtrusive. Cleopatra Moon curls around me for quite a long time, I get at least eight hours from it. It's enchanting and mysterious, what I imagine her namesake to be.

Selket Anti-Venom Rez: In the new composition I took the old recipe and changed it toward more of an ode to Crème de Menthe bringing up the mint essential oil note and adding nuances of Crystal, Blue Sugar and a little Incense in the shadows before the scorpion Goddess stings with her tail. The Crème de Menthe composed with marshmallow and peppermint eo. This one came out the same year as Eternal Egypt Summer Crystalline REZ, 2015. If I remember correctly, it came out in the summer - and while I absolutely adore my Victorian Candy Cane Crystalline, this is the mint I reach for when I want something cool feeling in the summer. It's like a creamy, mint drink, on a long screened in verandah. There's a crust of sugar in here, as well - I love their sugar notes. But this definitely feels green, it's different than the Christmas VCCC. There's a slight hint of liqueur. Absolutely adore this, and I should wear it more often, but I'm guilty of hoarding it. I will note that in long drydown - this lasts a while! - the mint fades a little bit, and you're left with a sweet, creamy, sort of musky marshmallow, with just a hint of the mint. Just as beautiful as the beginning stages, though.

Bastet's Witching Hour: Black Incense, Black Vanilla, Black Haitian Voodoo Vetiver, Black Aged Cedar, Black Cherry Extract, Black Aged Saffron and Black Amber rests at the death of this hour. I usually store all my Vaults in the same box, but - in order to confuse myself, hah! - I store my NAlloween Vaults in with the NAlloween box. So I'd actually realized when I was pulling out my Sleep Elixir that I had more Vaults than I realized! Anyway. this beauty is from 2011. I have two bottles of it, this was my first experience with NA's cherry and I fell hard for it. This isn't a candy or cough drop cherry by any means - this is a sexy, alluring fruit and dark resin perfume. The incense curls around you, and entwines with the slightly tart cherry. The vetiver is smoky, and the cedar is sweet and woody, they sure do woods right. I feel dark and witchy when I wear this, and I crave it all year. But of course, my favorite time of year to pull it out is fall, and I reach for it often. Incredible.

Hathor's Peach Kaproret Tea: Sensual Peach, Coconut powder, African Kaproret Tea, Fresh morning Apple (subtle), Tibetan Black Tea Leaves and Egyptian Plum. Here's another early one, from 2009. I've got about a quarter of a bottle left, it's one of the beautiful green 5mls. This one is a lovely summery scent, a little bit of tropical feel with the fruit/tea blend. I'm not sure what kaproret tea is like (EDIT: I've since learned it's a black tea type from Kenya!), but I definitely get the black tea, but there's another tea-scent in there that I've never had myself before, and it's almost got a zing to it, and it works really well with the lush peach and coconut notes. Thankfully I don't need a lot of this, because it's so aged, because I love it, and I'm hoarding it. I do have Peach Cardamom Tea from the Summer Tea Service, but that's quite a bit different than this. If you love tea and fruit, and happen to come across this one, I would not hesitate to get it! As with my other Teas from NA, there's never a bitter edge to the black tea, it's smooth and distinctive, and balances so well with the fruits. I've also worn this with a few of the Tea Service, Coconut Milk, Sugarcube, and Rice Milk, and they all pair well with it.

Y'all, I got pretty behind on this - life got really busy! I meant to have it up a week ago, but there's all kinds of stuff going on here in our little corner of the world. I'll try to get on the second half of this with a little more expediency! I hope you enjoyed this first half, though. There are some pretty amazing treasures to be had in hunting these down.

[sake-and-whiskey]

Siren’s Gold Chapter 7

//It’s been a long time coming, but here it is Siren’s Gold Chapter 7 Read on AO3 HERE Rated M  “ An olive branch is extended, and information shared. “

The first week went well, all things considered.

Well, as well as it could have gone. Hanzo had been insistent upon the rules he had set, which meant Jesse needed to be able to bridge the expanse of water in the cavern to go from the central rocky outcrop to the bank at the back. This had been an ordeal, the two arguing relentlessly. Hanzo could not fathom why Jesse would not just get in the water, and Jesse was not at all eager to return to the sea after nearly drowning the day before. Not to mention that after coming down from his panic attack, he wasn’t positive he could trust getting in the water with the siren in the first place. They argued over the best method, whether or not it was safe, and why Jesse couldn’t just stay on the center island, among other things. It ended with nothing but shouting and cursing, until finally Hanzo had relented, but only for the time being.

That was the first argument between them, and certainly not the last. Hanzo held grudges to prove a point, and would not speak unless Jesse apologized. Jesse was stubborn as all hell, and not willing to budge. So the first night, no words were shared between them, silence filling the space between the rock where Hanzo lay and the shore where Jesse curled up, neither sleeping yet neither speaking, only listening to the sounds of the other breathing and the gentle lapping of the water on the rocky bank.

The day after had been its own adventure. It started with fish, to be specific. Hanzo brought McCree fruit in the mornings after his hunt, and would spill them onto Jesse’s side of the bank before moving to his own to eat the creatures he had hunted. Normally the dragon fed on large fish, which was quite a sight. Hanzo would tear the creature apart with his claws, strong jaw full of sharpened fangs ripping through the flesh easily. McCree would watch from across the cave, slowly chewing his meal of coconuts or mangos or something of the like, eyebrows raised as he watched the dragon feed. He could not decide if he watched out of curiosity or disgust, but either way he couldn’t look away.

Suddenly the dragon had looked up, eyes locking with Jesse’s. Blood was painted across Hanzo’s lips, dripping down his chin onto his scaly tail, and it spilled from the rocks to the water, clouding it with its rich color. The two didn’t speak, only looking at each other before Hanzo wiped his mouth with his hand, only serving to smear the blood further across his face. He looked like a real hunter then, a predator covered in blood, and he gave McCree a challenging smirk, a flash of teeth painted red glinting in the early morning light.

“What is the matter, captain?” he chuckled, clearly amused with himself. “Got something  to say?”

McCree narrowed his eyes before shrugging, nodding his head towards the dragon. “I was admirin’ your dinner. Or at least, what it was before,” He motioned again to the pile of flesh that sat in the dragon’s hands.

Hanzo blinked at this response, thinking a moment before cocking his head in thought. After a moment he grabbed what remained of the fish’s carcass in both hands, heaving it over his head and throwing it at the human. McCree jumped back in surprise as the mass of scales and stripped bone hit the rock in front of him with a wet slap, specks of blood and other liquid splattering around him. “You may have the rest if you are so interested in it,” Hanzo said as he began dunking his hands in the water, slowly clawing away the blood that crusted his nails.

Now it was Jesse’s turn to stare, blinking slowly at the dragon before turning to the pile of raw mush in front of him. A smile slowly cracked on his lips until finally he burst out laughing. Hanzo’s head snapped up, eyes narrowing as he took in the pirate, laughing like a fool before him. “I did not realize I was so humorous,” He snarled, glowering at McCree. “I can take it back.”

McCree shook his head quickly, laughter trailing off but smile remaining. “Nah, nah it ain’t that. I’m mighty happy you were willin’ to share. Just don’t know if I have the stomach for a pile of raw meat.”

Hanzo’s eyes widened, and he raised an eyebrow in surprise. Humans could not eat raw meat? If he remembered correctly, the Shimada clan had been able to eat raw fish. Infact, he knew they had, and could remember beautifully plated and crafted dishes being presented to him and his brother long ago. And yet the foreigner didn’t have a taste for it. That figured, he mused, it was unlikely a man such as the one before him would have a taste for the finer things. “How predictable… Such an unsophisticated taste,” Hanzo grumbled.

Across the rocks, McCree rolled his eyes. “Well excuuuuse me. I’m not sayin’ I won’t eat it, I just can’t eat it raw. If you had any way of cooking it I wouldn’t mind none. But now I’m fine without it, thank you very much.”

The dragon pondered this for a moment, and then turned away, silently washing the blood from his hands and body. Jesse took that to mean the conversation was over, which was fine by him, and turned away, continuing to munch angrily on his breakfast of fruit.

The hours of the day passed slowly for McCree. Hanzo would leave the cave for hours on end, and Jesse would have to find things to entertain himself with. Sometimes it was counting the drips of water that fell from the ceiling. Other times it was building piles and shapes from the empty carcasses of the fruit he had eaten for breakfast. On more than one occasion he did nothing at all, simply laying on the rocks and looking up, or sleeping for many hours.

Hours felt like days when there was nothing to do, which was dangerous for McCree as the voices of the past would whisper to him, filling the silence with their wants and desires. Fareeha would call to him occasionally, reminding him not to give up and to avenge her, or sometimes Reyes would whisper evil things in his ear, taunts and threats of the past. Of course the voices were all in his head, a coping mechanism to keep him from going mad he had developed long ago. But sometimes the voices were too much, and to drown them out, McCree would sing.

While Jesse McCree was a man of many flaws, he was also one of many talents, and one of those was singing. He was not one to brag of his own abilities, but he could hold a tune quite well. His voice was always strong and confident, be it in a pub leading a group of drunken friends in song, or on the deck of his ship, carrying his motley crew in the chorus of a pirate shanty. So sometimes, when the voices became too loud in his head or he couldn’t be bothered to count the stalactites in the ceiling, he would sing.

The songs would vary, for McCree knew a great many. Sometimes they would be filthy pirate songs detailing pillaging ships and sexual conquests. Other times it would be songs from foreign countries, ones he had heard sung by Captain Amari or Fareeha in his youth. And occasionally, he would sing slow songs, romantic and heartfelt. His deep voice would reverberate off the rocks, filling the cavern with his melodic words.

It was during one of these songs when Hanzo returned, silently breaching the surface of the water after a long (and particularly exhausting) conversation with Genji. He had spent the later parts of the day complaining in great detail about everything the pirate did that drove him mad, and Genji had listened with a bemused expression but offered nothing in the way of genuine help or advice, only giving cryptic responses. “If you want the human to like you, try being a little nicer. Get to know him,” Genji had said with a shrug. “You are both too stubborn to make any progress if you do not try.” He sounded like Sojiro Shimada, Hanzo had thought with a huff. All cryptic answers and poetic verses, nothing straight forward. He had left with the same amount of irritation as when he had  arrived at Genji’s lagoon, nothing gained. As he made the journey back to his lair he thought of all the things he could say to the human to put him in his place, to make him be less stubborn.

But as he broke the surface, his thoughts were put on pause. The cave was filled with a beautiful sound, singing unlike any he had heard before. He slowly drew closer to his side of the bank, crawling up the rock just enough to peer at the human on the other side. McCree was laying on his back, eyes closed as he sang. His words were uninhibited, voice low and deep, slow and rumbling across the water.

The words of the song were sweet yet sad, a bitter story of a sailor’s unrequited love with a mysterious woman he had met one night sitting on some rocks on the beach. The woman was beautiful and mysterious, and the two shared a wonderful night together, making love on the sand before falling asleep in each other’s arms. When he awoke in the morning, naked and sprawled out on the beach, all he held in his arms was a pile of shells. The man was, of course, confused and unsure of whether the whole thing had just been a dream. So the next night he came back, and again there the woman was, sitting on the rocks at the beach. The two ran to each other and again made love, and again he fell asleep with her in his arms and awoke to nothing but shells. This went on for several days, until the sailor soon had to go back aboard his ship. The night before he was to set out, he went to the beach to tell the woman that he loved her, but she never came. The man was, of course, heart broken, and set out to sea the next morning with nothing but pain and bitterness.

Hanzo found himself not breathing, hanging on every word the pirate sang. The story progressed on, with the sailor’s ship getting trapped in a storm, and he was thrown overboard. The sailor, of course, could not swim, and as he began to sink into the waves the last thing he saw was the face of the woman he loved, reaching out towards him in the water. When the man awoke, he was on the beach of his home town, and there was the woman he loved. Only now, as she laid with him in the sand, a tail like a fish replaced her legs. The man had fallen in love with a siren, and she had fallen in love with him. And because sirens can see the future, she had known where he would crash into the sea, so she had left so that she might have the chance to save him. The sailor was so happy he could not speak, and the two made love under the stars once more. Eventually the siren gave up her tail and kept her human legs for the man, and the two were together forever, always holding each other under the stars.

When the song ended, Hanzo felt his heart sway, and he let out a quiet breath as the last note resounded off the cave walls. His body released the tension he had built, and he slowly propped his head on his hands, watching the human who continued to lay on the rock across from him. The sun was fading quickly, and pinkish beams of light filled the cavern with a glow as warm as McCree’s voice. After a moment, Hanzo gathered his words, speaking gently.

“That was quite a story,” the dragon said. McCree sat up quickly, reaching for his pistol that lay beside him on the rock, before he realized who had spoken and relaxed, turning to Hanzo.

“Isn’t it? It was always one of my favorites,” He said, only slightly embarrassed. If he had known the dragon was listening, he might’ve picked a different song.

“There are a few things that are incorrect,” Hanzo mused, tilting his head. “But for the sake of the story, they were passable.”

Jesse raised an eyebrow, interested. “Oh? Like what?”

“Well for one,” the dragon began. “Sirens cannot see the future. So she would not have known he was going to be thrown overboard.”

“Well I’ll be damned,” Jesse muttered, taken aback slightly. “I always heard sirens could see the past and the future, and what a man wanted most.”

“A man’s true desire, that is correct,” Hanzo nodded approvingly. “That is how they are able to lure their prey, by appealing to them with that which they desire most. But to see a man’s life is not a skill they posses unless it is directly related to their desire.”

“I see,” McCree muttered.

“And another thing that was incorrect was the part about her legs,” Hanzo said quickly. “Sirens are sirens, they do not possess shapeshifting magic unless they are put under a spell of some sort by another being, they cannot do it themselves. Very few magical creatures have the ability to take the form of man. So the two would have had to remain lovers by the sea.”

Jesse blinked in surprise. The two hadn’t spoken to each other this much since their discussion when Jesse had first arrived, and now the creature was giving him a plethora of information. Perhaps this was a gesture of some kind, an offering of calm instead of the hostility he had grown used to. Whatever it was, he would take this olive branch and extend his own, as well as use this conversation for its potential for valuable information.

“Other magical creatures? How many are there? We sailors only ever really talk about sirens and krakens. Well, the sailors around here anyways,” He corrected. “Some of the foreign sailors talk about selkies and water horses or other things.”

“Ah, there are a great many more than that,” Hanzo nodded. “But those kinds of creatures come from colder water, or fresh waters in different lands. Just as animals on the surface require different conditions to live, so do we under the water. Most do not venture here, but some find their way into the warm waters in which we live.” If he wasn’t mistaken, he was pretty sure Genji actually owned a selkie in his collection of creatures. He was never very interested in Genji’s horde, but now he found himself curious enough to ask in their next meeting.

McCree’s mouth fell open, dumbfounded. Many more? How many more? All the legends and myths were real, just with slight inaccuracies? It was almost too much for him to believe. But his mind drifted to the events only a few days prior, to the creature of smoke and evil intentions that had sunken his ship and put him in this situation. If something like that could exist, then there was no telling what else could live in the world, just out of sight.

“So then… If sirens can’t do all that stuff in the song, where do people get those ideas?” He asked warily. “Surely they can’t all be made up?”

“I would say there is surely a portion that is made up to make your stories more interesting,” Hanzo mused. “But no, a good portion are abilities other stronger creatures possess, as I said before. Humans just can’t tell the difference between us.”

Jesse pondered on this for a moment before coming to a realization, snapping his fingers with understanding. “Like when I called you a siren, and your brother laughed at me? It’s ‘cuz you two aren’t the same as sirens?”

Hanzo rolled his eyes as he remembered Genji’s guffaw at the human’s mistake, but nodded. “Yes. Because we are finned creatures humans imagine us to be the same as Sirens, because that is the only race of sea creature they know. But we are far different.”

“What, uh,” McCree began, unsure of how to phrase his question politely. “What exactly are you two?”

Hanzo cocked his head, smiling with a flash of sharp teeth. “We are Dragons.”

McCree blinked, taken aback only for a moment. “Dragons? Like sea dragons?”

“Something to that affect, yes,” Hanzo chuckled, brushing a piece of long hair behind one of his finned ears. “We are, how would you say… More pure bred creatures of magic. Sirens are born from the sea, where as we are born from a different place. It is hard to explain to someone with no knowledge of the world of magic.”

“Well I, I reckon I wouldn’t mind learning,” Jesse offered, mind racing a thousand miles a minute. Dragons? What in the hell did that mean?  

“Hmm…” Hanzo pondered for a moment before shrugging his shoulders. “Perhaps another time. The sun is gone, and you need rest. I intend to start your swimming  training tomorrow, so you need all the energy you can get. Perhaps depending on your level of success, I will tell you more of what you wish to know.”

McCree hadn’t noticed that the sunlight had died away, pale moonlight streaming down in thin beams. He soured slightly at the concept of getting in the water, but after tonight, he was a little less nervous about the siren- no, the dragon- being there with him. So he sighed, but gave a nod. “I suppose that’s fair. I’ll try and get some rest then.”

Hanzo nodded approvingly, pulling himself onto the rock, his long tail coiling around himself as he tried to get comfortable on the outcropping. “Then we shall speak again in the morning, Jesse McCree.”

The pirate nodded, pulling his coat up over himself as he laid back down on the rocks. “Til then, Hanzo.”

The two did not speak to each other again that night, the cave filled once more with the dripping of water and the lapping of the waves. Their minds were full, and both had many a thing to think about. Eventually, as Hanzo had just closed his eyes, he heard a low rumbling from the otherside of the cave. His ear twitched, picking up the low and sweet voice of Jesse McCree. He sang softly, just loud enough for Hanzo to hear, in a language he did not know. But the words rolled from his tongue, and the dragon felt his mind ease as his breathing grew heavy, lulled to sleep by the songs of the pirate.

[simona-a-marinkova]

February is a great time to escape the grey weather in London by going to tropical paradise like Sri Lanka. Beautiful nature and romantic sunsets, to cash only and dodginess – here is why Sri Lanka can be fun!

After nearly 20 hrs journey from London to Colombo (it was connecting flight, and spent couple of hours at Bahrain), we landed and although it was late evening – it was still so warm and smelled like sea! Local people seemed friendly and welcoming. Immediately we got many offers for “You need a taxi, Madame?”.

We got picked up by a local driver, arranged in advance. It is easy to book a driver before your trip in Sri Lanka – just check reviews on Trip advisor and make a call. It is more expensive than relying on tuk tuks (local taxis) and public transport, but if you want to see the best of the island over few days – driver is the most comfortable option. Prices also vary, so it is good to speak to several providers and see the best quote. Usually a driver for a week would cost around $360 per person (tourist price).

Colombo

We stayed at a hostel on the beach in Colombo that was an hour away from the airport. On the way we got to see the city – long streets full of local shops and street food places, and loads of “don’t drive and drink” billboards. Actually, local Out of home advertisement reminds me old school European ads – big billboards with loads of pictures and big bright messaging. The pics reminded me of old toothpaste ads. On every corner there was a Buddhist or Christian monument, decorated with similar to Christmas lights. That was kinda of cool. I don’t remember seeing mosques, though it is one of the main religions on the island. Overall Colombo is busy and chaotic city, with usual crazy traffic and drivers taking over at all times. There are not many pedestrian zones (even side walks) and crossing a busy street is a challenge. I noticed locals just start walking on the road, and the cars just stop if no other option. If you visit Sri Lanka for limited time – do not waste time in Colombo.

Our hostel was near the beach, so it was great to hear the waves in the evening and wake up to that sounds in the morning. I was happy to see this in view in the morning:

We were hosted by other travellers there, and spent the evening chilling outside in the garden with a cold beer. Apparently some of them were staying in the hostel for months, hanging out together and basically created mini community. I was talking to one of the guys there, who was working on his PHD and travelling around Asia – he was loving Sri Lanka and the “chaos”. Good place to be when you want to escape the old boring and organised Europe. It is cool to be solo traveller, meet new people and create friendships, but then what’s the point of travelling if you get stuck in 1 place for ages? This is what I did not get about these guys. Plus, the beach is 10 secs walk from LBL Colombo (the hostel) but it is so dirty. It looked like locals use it for trash landfill. It’s a shame, given the golden sands!

In any case, I loved the “romantic” bed we had in our room, which was actually anti mosquito bed:

Btw, payment is normally at the check out – and everywhere you pay in cash only. It was funny that the owner of the hostel asked us which rate we were given on booking.com as he did not know the price himself. LOL. He was so chatty though that took us 20 mins to “check out” and go get some water!

Anyway, it was time to head south to the beach in Hikkaduwa.

Hikkaduwa

It’s a small resort town on the South West coast. We stayed at a beautiful guest house “in the jungle”. Villa Red Lobster – it was my favourite accommodation in Sri Lanka – with its beautiful garden, palm trees, birds singing in the morning and fancy room, I was sold. Not to forget the delicious breakfast in the garden.

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It was also several mins walk from the beach, which was great!

Hikkaduwa beach is beautiful – golden fine sand, warm water, and palm trees. The coast line is tripped with bars and restaurants, hotels and shops. I loved talking a walk along the beach, sand, sea and sun – paradise for my feet.

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That’s how we discovered lovely beach restaurant, woth a rooftop view over the sea whilst having shark steak and beer.

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Not so great is the busy road Colombo – Galle, which is right next to the beach. Crossing there can be deadly, and you see old buses and cars, among pedestrians on the side. Health & Safety does not exist here.

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You can buy a coconut to eat/drink for 200 rupees on the beach. Good for breakfast, but cannot replace the beer! Actually, females are not allowed to buy alcohol in Sri Lanka. If you are a female tourist – it is fine, you get the drink you want…eventually. I got into a alcohol shop and tried to get some beers. The sales guy called me to come in, got the beers at the back of the shop, put them in the backpack to hide what we bought and left. I was surprised given the number of tourists and backpackers there. It is similar with restaurants – alcohol is not in the menu, but when you ask the waiter for beers – it does not come to them as a surprise. Most people drink the local beer: LION. Sometimes it can cost up to 750 ruppies (£3) which is nearly the same as drinking cocktails in SL. I bet the brand is doing well, because of all the tourists – as locals do not cope with alcohol that well and local ladies are not drinking there.

Food wise – most restaurants offer mainstream European food – pizza, pasta, burgers. I was glad to find some curry in the menus, as I have heard that this is the best place to taste curry. Tourism industry had made the food quite commercial and in terms of curry – nothing special. I personally think you can find more curries in London (and good curries) than in Sri Lankan restaurants. To try proper local food – you need to go to their street food places, which may not look very appealing especially if there are flies around. If the food is cooked in front of you – it should be fine and it is tasty! We tried a local place, and the food there was pretty good! Also, local people do not eat out and thus restaurants only exist to serve tourists. Often you will see tables in restaurants labelled with “For foreigners only“. I find this discriminative, though it makes sense for local businesses. For example – compare the two:

Driving license fine in Sri Lanka costs 500 rupees

Curry in Mirissa beach restaurant (Mirissa is another popular resort) costs 1800 rupees (around £8-9).

In any case, I enjoyed having dinner at a open restaurant also called “Red Lobster”. It was quite artsy / urban style – walls were decorated with customers feedback. Most of it was from Russians and people from other Soviet republics (the majority of tourists there are Russians, and apparently Sri Lanka is a popular family holiday destination for them.)

I was happy with my calamari curry and pineapple desert. Sri Lanka is the place to have fresh smoothies and fruit salads – avocado, papaya and pineapple everywhere! Again, the staff were friendly and smiley. That made me an impression – in Europe we are way more grumpy, well at least the customer service is.

To end the night – we made a visit to the top rated beach bar “Refresh”. Indeed, it is a stylish bar on the beach, so getting a glass of wine on a candle light, hearing the ocean waves is pretty cool. I get why Sri Lanka is so popular among couples.

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I would stay the staff there was over friendly – started with a nice chat, as we were approached by a guy working in the bar N. He seemed chilled and joint us on our table (not sure how professional that is?). It all seemed perfect – nice conversation, drinks, more drinks and at some point free bottle of arrack (local spirit drink, often mixed with ginger beer). Result is: drunk N and us wanting to leave. The last customers had left long time ago, bar was officially closed and N wanted to come with us, so he followed us on our way to the hotel. We told him “No, we will go alone” and he must have understood somethig else, because he came back with his motorbike asking to join him! OK, this was not funny anymore – we even walked into another bar to get rid of him, still did not work. After several more attempts – we managed to convince him to go away and we rushed into our hotel. So yeah, beware of local men hospitality if you are on your own at night. Btw, night life in Hikkaduwa is overall restricted – most places are closed by 11. Once or twice a week there is a bar open until 1 am (usually Mama’s or Refresh) and this is the time to get some cocktails and dance it out. These are the places to try good quality sea food.

Galle

After 2 days in Hikkaduwa, we headed to the close by town of Galle. It is beautiful coastal town with a tower along the coast, couple of heritage sites, museum and cute artsy streets. Be ware – there are local people, carrying around anacondas – if you fancy a pic with one. I usually go as far as possible from snakes – don’t like the look of it.

Galle is worth a daily visit, walk along the tower and enjoying the scenery. The beach near by is really beautiful, though waves there were quite strong.

  Here we were – end of the beach part of the trip. Time to head north to Ella.

          Destination Sri Lanka: why to give it a go February is a great time to escape the grey weather in London by going to tropical paradise like Sri Lanka.