#and julian has seen me stress over almost every single one of these

[grapejuicegay]

FAKE TALES OF SAN FRANSISCO

- ARCTIC MONKEYS

[dreamwritesimagines]

Burn The Witch 13 - Trouble [Bucky Barnes x Reader]

A.N: Thank you so much for your wonderful support and feedback my loves ! ❤ Here’s the next chapter, I hope you like it as well and please let me know what you think! ❤ Thank you! ❤❤❤

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Warnings: Enemies to lovers, fake dating, mentions of blood, sex, violence, death, manipulation, language, guns, knives.

Summary: Fights can be inevitable.

Series Masterlist

Oh God damn it.

This mission was not supposed to include anything from your real life, and it certainly was not supposed to include your real life ex-boyfriend.

Not only was this going to make things very, very complicated, it also put the entire operation in danger. No part of the background that was specifically created for your cover had any details on your ex relationships and you didn’t think you would have to come up with something now.

Well. For what it was worth, you weren’t the one who came up with it.

“Just joking man. I’m her ex-boyfriend but no worries, I pose no danger.”

Bucky didn’t even dignify that with an answer and you heaved a sigh, trying to control the anger bubbling in your stomach.

“Yeah,” you managed to say, “Yeah, we used to—um, we used to date.”

Bucky frowned, “Didn’t you say you moved here two months ago?”

“I did move here two months ago.”

“We used to date back in Oregon,” Julian explained and Bucky huhed.

“Yet here you are.”

“Yeah you know, the big apple,” Julian motioned around you, “I just got a job here and I figured I could come and see Y/N. Small town people have to look out for each other, you see.”

You gritted your teeth, watching him with narrowed eyes.

“She took you there yet?” Julian asked Bucky “Cannon Beach?”

“No,” you answered on his behalf and Julian clicked his tongue.

“I guess you could take him with you when you visit next month,” he said, “Surely you are visiting next month?”

“I don’t think I am.”

“Come on, no way.” he said, his voice filled with disbelief. “It’s sand castles contest time, you love that contest!”

Right.

Julian had always been the best at playing the civilian and memorizing the back story of any cover. He was great at lying and that was why every mission you had gone on with him was that easy, he could fool anyone.

Including you.

“She came in fourth place two years ago, she made this dragon castle, you should’ve seen it.” He told Bucky, and you rolled your eyes.

Fourth place.

Easy enough to make someone believe, hard enough to find a trace of on the internet.

Julian was an asshole for sure, but he was a great spy and now you were beginning to remember why though every mission with him was a success, you had still avoided it even before your break up.

This was what he did, he took over every single assignment, no matter who was the leader.

Not this time. This was your mission and your mission only.

“Y/N, did you….” Julian let out a chuckle, “Did you tell him about the time your grandma caught us at the—“

“It was good so see you,” you cut him off, glaring at him “But you should probably go now, I’m kind of busy.”

Julian paused only for a moment before holding up his hands, gesturing surrender.

“Okay,” he said, “It was nice to see you too. Again.”

“Yeah, sure.”

“It was nice to meet you Bucky,” he said, “Take care of yourself, Y/N.”

He walked away from you and you closed your eyes for a moment, leaning your head back to the wall.

“Fuck this shit,” you murmured under your breath without even realizing it wasn’t something your cover would say, and opened your eyes to look up at Bucky.

“Was he bothering you or something?” he asked you and you scoffed.

“Please,” you muttered but then pulled yourself together. “He’s not…that type no. Just annoying, that’s all.”

“Are you sure? Because I can—“

“No,” you shook your head fervently, “No, please don’t. It’s fine, it’s just— who he is.”

How dare he?

How dare he try to take over your mission? You had put so much thought into this, coming up with multiple strategies, trying to convince yourself that-

That you were doing the right thing. Even if you felt yourself getting lost in this cover, it didn’t mean that Julian could swoop in and take this over as if you were a rookie agent in need of help.

This whole assignment belonged to you, not to anyone else.

If you were going to betray Bucky’s trust and feel like the most terrible person in the world, the least you could do was not let Julian take the credit.

“I didn’t know you were coming,” you attempted to change the subject and Bucky tilted his head.

“Come on Y/N, don’t do that.”

“Don’t do what?”

“You don’t have to pretend like it’s fine,” he shrugged his shoulders, “I mean you don’t have to pretend, ever.”

Okay, this was too much. You could almost feel your defenses going up, the whole hangover and stress and anger and now Bucky being able to tell you were faking something, it was all getting the best of you and if you weren’t careful, you would say something you would regret later.

“I’m sorry?”

“I just,” he took a deep breath, “Sometimes you’re like…too good to be true, you know? And Sam has this theory that you’re—you’re somehow you’re doing this for me or the people around you but you don’t have to.”

“You think I’m pretending?” you asked, your voice coming out way too defensive for your own cover but you could hardly care.

You were slipping, and you didn’t have the luxury to slip. It seemed to take Bucky by surprise because for the first time since you had met, you were-

Aggressive. That was the word. Less like your cover and more like your real self.

“I didn’t mean it in a bad way,” he said and you let out a bitter chuckle, nodding.

“Yeah,” you said, “Okay. I’m kind of busy you see, I have so much to do at the shop so I should probably go back inside.”

“Y/N—“ he started but you pushed yourself off the wall.

“No it’s fine,” you managed to say, “This is me not pretending, for the record. I’ll see you later I guess.”

With that, you walked past him and went back to the milkshake shop, fury still poisoning your insides.

                                                 ***

You could hardly wait until you could go back to the base. Even though you thought that by then you would have calmed down, that didn’t seem to be the case.

You were fucking good at your job, and you were going to prove it to anyone and everyone. Without any help.

“Is he here yet?” you asked Chloe who rushed to greet you as soon as you stepped out of the elevator into the base and she cleared her throat.

“Who?”

“Don’t even, I know you heard what happened,” you cut her off and she shifted her weight.

“Yeah. I read his report.”

“Exactly. Where is he?”

“Okay, before I tell you where he is I feel like it’s important that you remember we’re not supposed to kill our own agents,” she said, “The paper work is a nightmare.”

“Where is he?”

“Keith says it’s considered rude to kill your team members.”

“Chloe,” you looked her in the eye “Where is he?”

She heaved a sigh, “In the training room.”

“Great, more weapons to use,” you muttered as you walked away from her to walk downstairs to the training room. Anger was pulsing through your veins and you kicked the door open, making the pair currently trying to hit each other stop.

“Get out,” you nodded at the other agent and Julian let out a small chuckle before he wiped his face with the towel. The agent rushed out of the room and you narrowed your eyes at Julian.

“You look upset,” he commented, “Want to exercise it out of your system?”

“What the fuck was that?”

Julian uncapped his water bottle to take a huge sip. “Come on, I saw an opening-“

“You made that opening,” you cut him off, “And crossed the line.”

“Oh please,” he waved a hand in the air, “It worked out perfectly fine.”

You could barely control your voice now, “You almost blew my fucking cover!”

“I would never,” he said, “Trust me, if anything I did you a favor.”

You dug your fingernails into your palms, “A favor?”

“Yeah. Guys love competition, an ex-boyfriend being in the picture will even speed up the process.”

“This is my mission.” You said through your teeth, “You don’t get to make spontaneous decisions without running them by me first.”

“When was the last time you had a proper fight?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“You always get cranky if you haven’t had a good challenge in a while,” he stated, “A good fight. I take it your boyfriend doesn’t tire you out enough?”

The innuendo wasn’t lost on you and you let out a small chuckle.

“You couldn’t tire me out if you tried.”

He tilted his head, “Is that a promise?”

You shot him a look and lunged but he easily dodged you, scowling.

“Come on Y/N,” he taunted you, “I won’t hold back, you shouldn’t either.”

“Oh don’t worry, I won’t hold back.” you grinned at him and darted to grab at him but he twisted your hand to push you back, making your back hit the wall. You pulled your hair into a ponytail and jumped to wrap your legs around his neck, spinning in the air to shove him to the ground. As soon as you both fell, you straddled him and pulled the dagger out of your boots to raise it and slam it to the ground right next to his head. A sly grin pulled at his lips as if he was having the time of his life.

“Look at you babe,” he said, “You got even better.”

You were very, very aware of the position you had both found yourself in. You used to find this whole thing hot, it was like foreplay to you. Mock fighting, training, all of it -especially with Julian- it used to be your second favorite activity.

Now, all you could think about was just how much more fun it would be with Bucky.

Maybe Julian was right. Maybe you were just a wild card.

A smirk curled your lips and you leaned in slightly to lock your eyes with his, looking down at him.

“My mission,” you growled. “Not yours. The next time you try to control what’s mine, I won’t be so nice.”

You pushed the dagger into your boot again and got off of him before storming out of the training room, still trying to keep your anger in check.

For some reason, you had a feeling it wouldn’t work.

                                               ***

No matter what you did for the rest of the evening, it just wasn’t enough to calm you down. Now to think of it, it wasn’t even completely about Julian and his nonsense, it was because—

You didn’t want Bucky to think you were pretending, even if you were.

Just because it was a cover, didn’t mean your reactions and the happiness you felt with him was fake as well. But he could still tell something was off— Sam could still tell something was off despite your best efforts.

Great.

You poured wine into your glass and changed the channel, trying to decide whether you should go and bug Keith or not. You heaved a sigh and tore your eyes from the screen to lean your head back, nibbling on your lip.

Dealing with feelings was much more difficult than taking down a target.

You groaned to yourself and took a huge sip of your wine, but before you could grab your phone you heard the doorbell ring. Your head shot up and you grabbed your gun to walk to the door, but as soon as you looked through the peephole to avoid yet another mistake like actually opening the door to Julian, you froze.

Bucky.

….Fuck.

“Um- just a second!” you called out before rushing to your room to hide your gun, then quickly looked around the apartment to see if there was anything that could tip him off. Overall, it looked perfectly civilian and you ran a hand over your face to pull yourself together.

Your cover was supposed to be angry at him.

You threw your shoulders back and walked to the door to open it, then leaned sideways to the doorframe, your lips pulled into a slight pout.

“Hi,” you murmured and his gaze lingered on your shorts and flimsy tank top before he looked away for a moment.

Ah.

Compared to 1940s, it was almost the same as you opening the door in your underwear.

“Hey,” he said and held up a small box of bagels. “Listen, I know you’re angry but um…I was hoping we could talk?”

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Keith’s door opening and he stepped out but as soon as he caught the sight of Bucky on your doorstep, his eyes widened and he froze. He quickly fixed his jacket so that it would cover his gun tucked into the back of the waistband of his jeans and gawked at you.

“What the fuck?” he mouthed and you got momentarily distracted, causing Bucky to follow your gaze over his shoulder to Keith.

And Keith, the badass spy, probably the only spy in the whole division who could give you a hard time in a fight, whom you had seen take down five armed soldier by himself with no weapons-

He waved at Bucky.

“Hi- hi neighbor,” he stammered as he turned to you and you shot him a forced smile.

“Hi.”

“Thanks for the cookies, I was going to bring you your plate the other day,” he said, “Do you need it now?”

Translation: Do you need back up?

“No, no,” you shook your head, “No worries, it’s fine.”

“Alright then. See you later.”

You cleared your throat and took the box from Bucky.

“Come in,” you turned around to walk to the living room, hearing him close the door behind him. It didn’t take him long to step into the living room and his eyes darted around as if trying to take in as much as he could. You figured it was natural, homes always gave clues about who their owners were.

Not to mention, as an ex-assassin he was automatically finding the nearest exits and things to use as weapons.

You would know. You did the same thing whenever you were in a new place.

You peeked into the box and frowned.

“What is this?”

“To be honest with you, I have no idea,” Bucky admitted, “It’s supposed to be a bagel. I just asked the guy to give me the most modern and weirdest combination.”

“Is this—is this glitter?”

“He said it was edible glitter, yeah. With lavender and cheese with honey.”

“Why is there two of them?”

He put his hands into his pockets. “I figured I could try one.”

You blinked a couple of times, “You want to try a lavender cheese honey bagel with edible glitter.”

Even the sound of it seemed to be painful for him but he pressed his lips together and nodded fervently. “Mm hm.”

You tried to stop the smile threatening to warm your face and put the box on the coffee table before looking up at him.

“Bucky, listen—“

“I’m sorry,” he cut you off, “That comment back there, it was so uncalled for.”

You crossed your arms, “Why did you say that though?” you asked, “Is that—is that what you think?”

“No,” he shook his head fervently, “Of course not.”

“Then?”

“I don’t know if I can give an explanation without it sounding incredibly weird to you.”

“Try me.”

“I didn’t mean it in a bad way,” he said “It’s like— the way you are, it’s like someone somehow looked into my whole life back in 40s before everything and saw every single detail of what I wanted and made you.”

Yeah. That was exactly what you and the division had done.

“I’m not used to…” he motioned at you, “This. It’s like you’re too good to be true, like you’re perfect, does that make sense?”

A dull pain flipped your stomach and you stared up at him, trying to ignore your throat tightening before you went to sit down on the couch.

“I’m not,” you rasped out, “I’m not perfect. You’ll see it sooner or later.”

That right there was as honest as you could be with him. You rubbed at your eyes and grabbed the wine glass to take a huge sip as he sat down beside you, his gaze fixated on you.

“I’m sorry too,” you said, “It was an overreaction, it’s just… Julian’s effect on me.”

He stayed silent for a couple of seconds as if he had no idea how to approach the topic.

“Rough break up?”

“You could say that,” you scoffed a laugh, looking down at your glass, “I mean….you think you know a person, right? And they have no problem with proving you otherwise, prove that you didn’t know them at all. They—they betray your trust and everything was a lie all along and—“

And just like that, the realization hit you like a ton of bricks, making you stop talking.

You were doing exactly the same. It was just another version of the betrayal you had seen from Julian, and you were doing the same thing to Bucky.

He thought he knew you, and you would prove him otherwise, and betray his trust and walk away when this mission was over. In fact, by the time it was over, he would hate you even more than you hated Julian.

You cursed under your breath and took another sip of your wine, trying to ease the crushing guilt making you feel almost breathless.

“Sorry,” you managed to say, “I didn’t mean to unleash it on you, I just don’t want him anywhere near me.”

“I could pay him a visit if you want?”

You pulled your brows together, distracted for a moment before you tilted your head to the side.

“What?”

“To warn him to stay away from you.”

“Uh, I appreciate the chivalry,” you said, “But I can take care of myself.”

“Never said you couldn’t,” he pointed out, “It’s just the old-fashioned thing.”

“Oh the old-fashioned thing?” you repeated with a smile and he shrugged his shoulders.

“Yeah,” he said, “You know, taking care of my girl.”

You thought your heart would leap out of your throat as the warmth spread through you before the idea of betraying him hit you once again. The words felt like they were trying to escape from your mouth, the urge to come clean getting heavier and heavier before you leaned in to brush your lips against his, making him wrap his arms tight around you to pull you closer. You settled in his embrace, the back of your eyes burning but you blinked a couple of times to get rid of tears. He nuzzled into your hair, inhaling your scent.

“Can we stay like this for a while?” you asked and he smiled, pressing a kiss on top of your head.

“Sure thing,” he said and nodded at the TV screen, “What is this movie about?”

“I don’t know, it has cars and criminals,” you said, the guilt making you feel almost nauseous, “Bucky?”

“Hm?”

He would never understand what your confession actually meant, but you felt as if you would choke if you didn’t say it.

“I like who I am when I’m with you.”

A chuckle rumbled in his chest before he reached out to caress your cheekbone.

“Makes two of us darling,” he murmured, “I like who I am when I’m with you too.”

A bitter smile curled your lips and you bit inside your cheek to control yourself, sniffling inaudibly before you closed your eyes, enjoying his warmth.

Chapter 14

[relenafanel]

Squats For Thots - Geralt/Jaskier | PG-13.

This is mostly one long dick joke I wrote as an excuse to use “Squats for Thots” as a title. It’s also mostly foolish men with crushes objectifying each other’s asses. #whoops. 

“The Countess likes her men a little more thicc, you know?” Jaskier said, burning through the starting set Geralt had given him surprisingly well. Well enough that he continued talking, though Geralt wasn’t sure the man ever stopped. “Likes something to hold on to.”

Most of the men Geralt saw at the private club thought targeted exercises were a quick way to improve what they considered to be small problem areas, like there was a cheat sheet to looking like a Hemsworth that wasn’t partially genes. Most of them thought they were a personal trainer away from movie-star abs, and Geralt wasn’t there to disabuse them of the notion.

“I figured,” Jaskier continued, breathing through his final 20, “if I found the trainer with the best ass in the place they’d be the person to show me how to turn this slab into fab.”

“Do you ride?” Geralt asked, making a note to make Thursday’s session more intense.

 “Yeah,” Jaskier said, finally sounding out of breath. He batted his eyelashes and Geralt also made a note to recommend the man invest in a sweatband if it was going to make him blink like that, especially since Jaskier didn’t seem to be perspiring hard yet.

 “How many times a week and for how long?” 

 Jaskier opened his mouth. Closed it. Looked flustered and then flummoxed, though Geralt pretended he didn’t notice since he couldn’t figure out why. Then Jaskier laughed. “Ohh, you mean a horse,” he said. “Not often, not since adolescence, though I can still manage a decent seat when needed. Why? Should it be part of my training? I can’t say I’ve noticed all equestrians have a juicy booty but I don’t know if I’ve been looking for the trend.”

 “Hm,” Geralt answered, aware it wasn’t an answer at all. “My job today is determining your limits.”

 “Yeah,” Jaskier agreed, probably because they’d already been over this before starting. There was also that flirtatious lilt to it that Geralt was realizing he should have been able to identify from the start. 

 Fuck.

 Jaskier was one of those people who stopped by the club a few times a month and spent more time off to the side drinking smoothies and watching the people around him than he did exercising. It was a surprise he was able to keep up with the exercises Geralt had designed to easily break him. “Your lower body is better developed than I assumed.”

 “Thank you for the compliment, even though I think what you really mean is you assumed my fitness level is the same as a 3 year coma patient and tested me accordingly. I don’t think I’m even insulted by that. Though we could have saved some wasted time if you’d ever seen me naked.”

 Geralt leveled him with an unimpressed expression designed to ask ‘why would I want to do that?’

 Jaskier flushed but didn’t look particularly embarrassed or emasculated, which was maybe the first thing he’d done in his favour. “I don’t know,” he said with a shrug, “why does anyone?”

 ****

 “I hear you’ve taken on the Viscount de Lettenhove as a client,” Lambert said, looking far too relaxed against the bar. 

 Geralt shrugged. He had six new clients since the last time he’d spoken with Lambert and the name didn’t sound familiar.

 “Lord Julian?” Lambert continued. “Has a reputation for being very generous in bed, both generally and -“ he made a vague gesture to his dick. “A good third of the people at the club have either already had sex with him, want to have sex with him, or a combination of both. During your session last week, Rodgie said Lettenhove fucked him so well he thought he was gay for another three months, like he’d gone temporarily blind to the charms of women it was so good.”

 Geralt scowled. 

 “I’m just repeating what he said. Don’t pretend you’re beyond gossiping about this.”

 “I can’t place the name,” he admitted instead of answering that. Beyond gossip? Apparently not. Seeking it out? No. Especially about someone referred to as Lord Julian.

 “Really? Tall-ish. Handsome-ish. Good with his hands. Treadmill squad can’t seem to take their eyes off him. Was in on Thursday.”

 New client. Thursday. “Jaskier?”

 “Yes,” Lambert agreed with a snap of his fingers. “That’s the name he uses. Rich people, eh?”

 Jaskier?

 Lambert shook his head. “I can’t tell if you just don’t notice people or if you genuinely aren’t into dick, sometimes.”

 ****

 Geralt was into dick.

 Sometimes.

 ****

 He noticed. 

 Not anything different about Jaskier. The man still talked his way through whatever exercises Geralt threw at him, far too flirtatious for comfort, and never really seemed to notice that he was being openly appraised by almost every single person on exercise machines. 

 But Geralt did. 

 ****

 It wasn’t that Geralt noticed Jaskier, it was just that Jaskier was standing at the smoothie bar on a day they weren’t scheduled to work together and he noticed the incongruity of seeing Jaskier on a Friday morning.

 Wearing shorts.

 It wasn’t really the shorts that kept his attention, it was the same thing about Jaskier that he’d noticed from the first moment they’d started working together - Jaskier’s damn legs and those calves that told of a less sedentary lifestyle than Jaskier pretended.  Geralt didn’t understand why someone would stop by the gym in a health club only to lounge around doing nothing if they obviously spent a lot of time working out their legs (at least).

 It took him a bit longer than it should have to realize he was gawking just as badly as Jaskier’s damn treadmill fanclub. He turned his back and pretended he was very interested in something else. Anything else.

 “Hey,” Jaskier said, handing Geralt the second smoothie in his hands. Geralt was sure the person overdoing it on the rowing machine wilted in jealousy. “Are you in a session?”

 “Technically,” Geralt said and took a sip of the smoothie. It tasted like summer. 

 Jaskier grinned at him. “No show?”

 “Sauna.”

 “That’s an option?” Jaskier asked, but looked more amused than anything. “And here I’ve been exercising like a chump”

 “It’s an option.”

 “Of course, I wouldn’t leave you out here fully clothed. Seems like a waste.” He grinned at Geralt, sly in a way that included Geralt in the joke.  “Maybe you could advise me on the best ways to steam it up.”

 “It’s an option,” Geralt repeated.

 “I…” Jaskier started to say and then closed his mouth.  “Really?”

 “But if you do, you won’t make any progress.”

 “In my butt or with you?” he blurted out.  “And yes, I can hear that sentence is one finished thought away from a dirty joke but I’m going to be the bigger man here.”

 Geralt seriously doubted that.

 “Oh my god. Are you one finished thought from making that into a dick joke?” Jaskier looked delighted.  “Yass, Geralt.”

 The sauna door opened, and Geralt prepared himself to finish the last five minutes of the hour, which consisted of making sure his client was hydrated before sending him on his way, rather than continuing this conversation with Jaskier.  

 “Wait,” Jaskier said, with a hand on Geralt’s arm. “Is there something I can make progress on?”

 Geralt shrugged.  There wasn’t NOT something, which he knew wasn’t an answer either. 

 “Ok, so, that’s not a no. I acknowledge it’s not a yes, but it’s also not a no, and you’re not someone who has trouble with the word no. So.” Jaskier waved his hand, spraying smoothie from the top of his straw.  “That’s cool.”

 That’s cool, Geralt repeated in his head as he walked away. He probably should have said no just to save himself the pain of hearing that’s cool.

 ****

 “There’s a rumour you’re about to get laid,” Lambert said on their bi-weekly meet up for beer. 

 “That’s cool,” Geralt said with a shrug.

 Which, honestly, was worth it just for the look on Lambert’s face.

 ****

 “Ok,” Jaskier said on Monday, which also wasn’t one of their scheduled meetings. He showed up like some kind of annoyance mirage wearing a brightly coloured shirt and shoes meant for lounging. Geralt was in the middle of helping the Earl of Something’s second son work off his weekend bender. The man had run off to puke twice already and Jaskier’s shirt wasn’t helping any. Neither was the way Jaskier snapped his fingers in front of his clammy face. “Off you go, you’re looking a little peaked.”

 “Thank you!”

 Jaskier rolled a yoga ball over with his foot and perched on it, crossing his legs. It occurred to Geralt that Jaskier was like a male peacock posturing, with his vibrant clothes and stupid pose. It also occurred to Geralt that he shouldn’t be into it.  “We should go out for coffee and stuff.”

 “Fine.”

 “What?” Jaskier said, losing his balance and almost falling on the floor.

 “Coffee and stuff. Fine. Let’s go out.”

 “I…” Jaskier opened his mouth. Closed it.  “Expected more of an argument and to maybe leave disappointed.”

 Geralt shrugged.  “Why?”

 “I don’t know!” Jaskier threw up his hands and then stood.  His movements had an ease to them that they wouldn’t if he didn’t fucking exercise somewhere. Geralt was going to figure it out because he was pretty sure if he asked anyone they’d say it was from sex and life didn’t work that way. “Because you asked me if I ride and meant a horse!”

 “You stop by the smoothie bar, grab a lounge chair for a few hours, and take a nap whenever you come in.  Something needed to account for your legs.”

 Jaskier started laughing.

 “Don’t say it,” Geralt told him with annoyance.

 “You noticed,” Jaskier stressed. 

 ****

 “I hate that I know why you look so relaxed,” Lambert grumbled.

[johnny-and-dora]

how sweet the taste of certainty

Finally, she doesn’t have to wonder if their love is doomed to be some quiet, fragile thing. It’s not some fickle flickering candle at all, but rather something as bright and as certain and as inevitable as the sunrise. Something beautiful and familiar that, in earnest, is only just beginning.

or, amy tells her parents the shining, golden reason why she can't marry teddy. (a missing scene of my royalty au)

read on ao3 / read the original  -

The morning after she asks Jake to marry her, Amy stops a couple steps short of the heavy dining room doors, heart in her mouth, feet suddenly and brutally rooted to the ground. The eloquent and respectful speech she spent all night planning has seemingly evaporated, leaving her less of a person and more a pile of nervous mush.

“Are you ready?” Rosa meets her gaze, her armour glinting in the summer morning sunshine.

“No.” Amy admits, smiling nervously, calculating the nearest escape route and how long she could survive in the forest based on her existing hunting and foraging skills. “Do you think this is a bad idea?”

Rosa considers it for a beat. “No. I think it’s crazy, and it might blow up in your face, but I think it’s a good thing. For everyone.”

She can’t help but feel reassured by her best friend’s trademark bluntness, smoothing down her dress and fixing her hair again almost compulsively. It’s just breakfast. A breakfast that may as well be taking place in the middle of a minefield, but still just breakfast. She can handle breakfast.

Amy takes a deep breath, nods at Rosa, and pushes the doors open.

She’s greeted by the tail-end of an idyllic Santiago family meal; her parents sit at the head of the table, looking stoic and serious as usual. Three of her brothers are also dotted around, Julian in the middle of shoving an entire croissant in his mouth as he waves at her. David is mercifully absent. Silver linings. She definitely doesn’t need the golden child around today.

“Amelia – good, we were starting to worry…” Her mom trails off, a weight behind her words that instantly sends an unpleasant lick of irritation down her spine. She clenches her fists, resisting the urge to tell her just how much she really needs to be worried about. Just how close she was to smuggling herself and Jake over the border last night and never looking back.

Amy knows this won’t work unless she’s calm, firm and collected – she needs this to go perfectly, the stakes for this particular conversation so far past the roof they’re practically up in the stratosphere (Jake’s words, not hers). So, instead of letting out all the latent anger kicking around in her chest, she takes a deep breath and smiles politely, the one usually reserved for dukes that condescendingly call her “sweetheart” and then drop their jaws when she can recite state law from memory.

“You guys said you wanted to see me?”

“Prince Theodore has been asking after you. He’s waiting at the West Wing gate.”

“Good. I need to talk to him.” Amy says, forcefully enough that her mother sharply raises an eyebrow, sucking all the air out of the room in the process. “I need to talk to you, too.”

Her mom and dad share a quick, loaded glance. Everyone falls quiet, Tony and Simon no longer squabbling over who gets the last bread roll, Julian letting a blob of jam fall on his shirt without noticing. All eyes are on her as Victor gestures for her to continue – ideally, she’d do this with as little of an audience as possible, but she confesses to Jake later that she couldn’t help but revel slightly in the drama of it all.

She’s Amy Santiago – she’s fluent in five languages, director of the royal art collection, ambassador for human rights and one of the best trade negotiators in the seven kingdoms. She is capable of anything. She can do this. She’d barely last a week in the forest anyway.

“I’m not going to marry him.”

“Amelia…” Her mother sighs disapprovingly – it drills into Amy’s soul, but she stands her ground, making peace with her portrait being one step further away from the mantel. Her father eyes her warily as if he was expecting this.

“No, I know. I know you think it’s what’s best for me. I know a marriage like that worked for you two, and I know that it would benefit the kingdom and that’s great. But I can’t marry someone I don’t love, and you can’t force me to.”

“Accepting his proposal may seem like a risk, but a one worth taking.” Her father says. “He’s good for you, Amy – his reputation, his influence, it could really help you build something. You two are perfectly matched.”

Amy chews her bottom lip, a nervous tic she just can’t shake, gathering her courage. “Maybe in a different situation, Teddy and I would have worked. I see what you see in him. But it’s more than just on principle. I physically can’t marry him.”

“Why not?”

“Because - “Amy says, voice shaking a little, but eyes alight, “-I’m engaged to someone else.”

And, well, there it is. Her whole life changed by a single sentence.

It has the intended effect, increased tenfold thanks to a truly magnificent spit take from Julian as he chokes on his orange juice. Her parents stare at her in stunned disbelief – a wide-eyed Tony pats Julian on the back as his coughing dissolves into laughter. Best of all though, Amy can see Rosa smiling wide and proud in the corner of her eye, and it’s all she needs to feel newly emboldened, heart thumping in a way that makes her feel powerful instead of helpless.

“My God, Amy. I thought I had it with the whole one-night-stand with the Prince of Arabia thing, but you officially just won most dramatic family announcement. Well played.” Julian laughs, uproarious and bright. She’s glad he’s here.

“I…don’t understand. You are…already engaged?” Her mother asks weakly.

“As of last night, yes.” Amy tries to remain as neutral and matter-of-fact as possible, but she can’t help softening at the fresh memory of Jake saying yes over and over again, punctuating each affirmation with a kiss as she laughed, buoyant and alive with unadulterated joy. It’s all still very surreal, especially considering she hasn’t slept since; but if it is all a dream, it’s one she never intends to wake up from.

“I don’t see a ring,” Julian says, a bright grin plastered on his face that Amy ever so slightly mirrors, unable to completely tamp down her happiness any longer. “Isn’t there supposed to be a ring?”

“There is, but he has it. I proposed to him.”

“Oh, of course you did.” Julian shakes his head in a perfect marriage of awe and amusement.

“How…what…who…” Tony stammers – having graciously passed the point of no return, Amy decides to throw all her caution and concern to the wind and dive headfirst into the unknown.

“His name is Jake Peralta and he is the absolute love of my life. I have never been surer about anything than I am about that fact.” She consciously pours every ounce of conviction she has into her words, and it tastes like honey on her tongue, fresh air in her lungs. “He’s a baker and he helps out in the kitchen with Charles and he is the kindest, most loyal, most wonderful person I have ever met.”

There are so many ways to describe him – completely unexpected, completely full of warmth and laughter and more love than she thought any human being was capable of containing. Loving Jake is endlessly surprising, but it’s also the easiest thing she’s ever done.

“I didn’t tell you because I knew you’d never approve of me being with someone who didn’t have ‘reputation’, but the truth is that Jake is good for me in a way that Teddy could never be. He is unconditionally supportive and thoughtful, and he sees me for me, not just as a status symbol or some idealised fairy-tale. I love him and I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with him.”

She says her piece, affection flowing from her almost of its own accord. As she does, she’s flooded with memories – throwing grapes at each other at the picnic they shared in the wildflower meadows beyond the gates. Jake smuggling cupcakes to her to cheer her up on bad days. Him clumsily risking his life climbing through her bedroom window just to help her rehearse her big address at a formal dinner, planting a kiss on her forehead every time she got through a cue card.

Their walks around the castle grounds, laughing at stupid inside jokes. Playing cards in the kitchens with Charles, Terry and Rosa. Teaching him how to paint and sketching him in increasingly ridiculous poses. Having dinner with his mom. Stealing away moments behind the stables and on staircases. Most vividly, their countless private rendezvous in the forest, free of all façades and responsibilities and reputations to uphold.

Amy refuses to hide any of it anymore – he is, openly and unashamedly, the man she loves.

No-one speaks, for a little while; she lets her honesty sink in. Her mother is wearing a look of abject horror – her dad’s expression is stony and unreadable, and it startles her when he is the first one to break the silence, directly addressing Rosa standing guard by the door.

“Diaz. Is all of this true?” Rosa glances at Amy, who gives her an encouraging nod. She knows her father has always valued Rosa’s directness as much as Amy does.

“Yes, sir.” She pauses. “And for the record, I’ve known both of these people a long time, and this is the happiest I’ve seen either of them. It’s kind of sickening, actually.”

Her parents exchange glances, a silent conversation Amy isn’t privy too – she’s too busy feeling her heart swell with further affection, this time for her best friend. She and Jake owe so much to Rosa helping them out, relaying messages back and forth and covering for them. When this is all over, Amy’s definitely embroidering a thank you pillow for her to punch.

“I see. Will you please bring this Jake Peralta here for me?” His tone is even and calm, almost unnervingly so. Rosa nods, quickly disappearing. She knows exactly where Jake will be; in the kitchens, probably stress eating day-old pastry and getting a last-minute pep talk from Charles (which is guaranteed to be largely unhelpful and delivered through hysterical tears).

She’d warned him that they’d probably want to meet him; he’d expressed anxiety about it last night, but Amy had quickly reassured him that no-one else’s opinion mattered to her about this. They’re getting married, whether her parents approve or not.

Obviously, she wants them to like him. She’s dedicated a lot of time to making sure he knows he is loved and accepted, and she’s willing to work even harder to wax lyrical about how wonderful he is for the rest of their lives if she has to. For now, though, she just has to focus on not getting them both exiled.

Her dad calmly asks her brothers to leave the table – Julian mutters in protest as he exits, only stopping to brightly clap Amy on the shoulder and earnestly congratulate her with an enthusiastic high five.

“He sounds great, mimi. I can’t wait to meet him.” For once, her older brother is completely sincere, save perhaps for the suggestive wink he gives her, and it’s a touching gesture that eases some of the relentless anxiety building in her gut. Amy dreads to think how insufferable the pair will be when they do finally meet. She can’t wait either.

Part of her is absolutely fucking terrified to be left alone with her parents with her open defiance and violation of their wishes hanging so ominously in the air – Amy Santiago has never been a rule breaker. She’s always worn the stupid fancy dresses even when she’s dying for something more practical and let Gina give her more and more complicated and ridiculous hairstyles and politely mingled with the endless line of boring high-status bachelors as her parents watched on hopefully. She’s always played the role of the only princess to perfection.

But then she thinks of little six-year-old Amy demanding that she be taught the same combat training as her brothers and twelve-year-old Amy petitioning to allow female members into the Royal Guard and, well. They really should have seen this coming from a mile away.

Thankfully, it doesn’t take long before Rosa strides back in, a clearly nervous Jake hurrying forward in her wake. For a moment, her original plan of whisking him away to start a simple life together swims into her head, a powerful urge to protect him surging over her.

But then their eyes meet, and he waves, a small nervous smile on his face. And then she notices, as it catches the sunlight streaming in through the window and glitters as if enchanted, the engagement ring hung proudly around his neck. And she just knows, as sure as the sun will rise, that they can handle anything.

“I understand that you are engaged to my Amy.”

“Yes, sir.” Jake rocks on his heels slightly, nervously fidgeting the way he always does when he’s anxious. “I’m very lucky to know her and I love her very much.” It’s not the most eloquent speech ever performed in this great hall, but it’s by far her favourite.

“How do I know you are good enough for my only daughter?”

“Oh, there’s no way I’m good enough for Amy. She’s the most incredible person I’ve ever met and the best thing that’s happened to me.” He steps closer to her, silently taking and squeezing her hand as he speaks. “But she still chose me, and I promise you that I will spend every moment of the rest of my life trying to be someone worthy of being loved by her.”

She wants to scream from the top of her lungs that he is completely and utterly good enough, and she wants to hurt anyone who has ever made him feel otherwise. Instead, she squeezes back, and mouths I love you while her parents exchange another hushed conversation.

“Well then - it appears there’s nothing we can do to stop you. Nor do I think we should try.” It could be a trick of the light, but she swears that she sees a glimmer of pride in her father’s eye. Her mom clears her throat, clearly still struggling to comprehend the situation.

“Mija, what we want most for you is for you to be happy. Does he make you happy?” She asks – Amy glances at the man beside her and finds her best friend, her fiancé, her favourite person. Easiest solve in the world.

“More than anything.”

“Then that settles that. You two have our blessing.” Her father says, as simply as if he was commenting on the weather. Amy blinks once, then again, her grip on Jake’s hand getting tighter.

“We…we do?”

“Yes, you do. We clearly have much to discuss, but I must first inform Prince Theodore that other arrangements need to be made.”

“I…wow. Thank you. Thank you, so much, I…” Her brain appears to be malfunctioning, so she does the only thing that feels right; she hugs her parents, whispering another strangled thank you, and then hastily pulls a stunned Jake out of the room, now squeezing his hand so tightly it’s probably cutting off all the circulation. If it does hurt, he doesn’t say anything – then again, in the moment neither of them seems able to speak.

She drags him into the nearest room; Holt’s classroom which, blessedly, is currently empty. Heart pounding, she finally meets Jakes gaze. He looks like he’s just found the end of a rainbow.

“Did they just…”

“Yeah. Yes. I think they did.”

“So, we’re…”

“Getting married. Yep. That is a thing that is officially happening.”

There’s a single moment before they’re both collapsing into shocked, near-hysterical laughter, an amalgamation of relief, disbelief, exhaustion and above all else, joy. Amy practically throws herself around him, performing some kind of strangled hybrid of laughing and crying as she buries herself into his shirt.

They stay like that for a while, completely wrapped up in each other. It could be seconds or minutes or maybe even hours – she doesn’t care. Time has ruled their life together for so long; now, it’s an insignificant enemy, no longer precious, unpredictable or finite. It’s bliss.

“Hey, listen. Rosa told me, uh, what you said. To your parents. About me being the love of your life and all that.” Jake says, suddenly adorably shy.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. She said it with a disgusted look on her face, but I think she’s secretly rooting for us.”

Amy hums in contentment, making a note to call her a secret sap and then hug her the next time she sees her. Jake clears his throat nervously, calling her attention back to him, all soft and warm honey gaze.

“You’re mine too, by the way.” He says sheepishly. “Just in case…I mean I hope you that know by now, but-“ She smothers his nervous ramblings with a firm kiss, finally. Finally, the abstract brush-strokes and subtle hues of the future they could have together come into sharp focus, vivid and prismatic.

Finally, she doesn’t have to wonder if their love is doomed to be some quiet, fragile thing. It’s not some fickle flickering candle at all, but rather something as bright and as certain and as inevitable as the sunrise. Something beautiful and familiar that, in earnest, is only just beginning.

“I love you.”

“I love you too, future wife.” He grins, kissing her again. She’s sure, now, as her lips meld to his that he is the person she was always meant to come home to, to find a home in.

Amy feels a wave of exhaustion overwhelm her; now that the adrenaline is wearing off, the unfortunate side-effects of not sleeping for almost twenty-four hours rapidly take hold. She barely suppresses a yawn, scrunching up her nose as Jake looks at her fondly.

“You wanna go back to bed? I happen to know an excellent nap partner.”

“Oh, great, me too. I’ll see if Hitchcock’s available.” She says, laughing when Jake pouts in offence, draping her arms around him, leaning up so that their noses are almost touching.

“It’s our first day together as an engaged couple. I want to do something special.”

“Ames, we have the rest of our lives to do something special.” He says, gazing down at her with so much undiluted affection that her resolve completely melts away. The rest of their lives. She really likes the sound of that.

“Okay, napping sounds pretty good right now too.”

“Good, because we have about five minutes until I collapse from twelve hours straight of nervous hysteria. Would you mind carrying me to your bedroom?”

She rolls her eyes and shoves him, but also offers him her hand. They soon collapse into Amy’s four-poster bed, quickly pulling the covers over their heads, wriggling around and fighting for space while they giggle like little kids. Amy sleepily leans into him when they’re all settled in, and she’s never felt safer than she does now, being lulled to sleep by the steady rise and fall of his chest.

“We’re getting married.” She whispers reverently, eyelids heavy – she feels his lips gently ghost against the top of her head in response, perhaps subconsciously as if he were made to do it. They drift off, and the last of her anxiety ebbs and flows away as if merely a bad memory.

It’s the best sleep either of them has had for months.

[mashafootball]

Stressed (Julian Brandt Imagine)

A/N: Julian Brandt Imagine (Fluff) 

You sighed in relief as soon as you entered your flat. ‘Finally,’ you mumbled to yourself while hanging up your coat and taking off your shoes. You had spent way more time in your university’s library than at home as important exams were coming up and the thought of failing even one of left you feeling extremely stressed. Due to that you decided that you would have to work harder than ever before – even if that meant studying 24/7. A glance at your phone’s display made you realize how late it already was. Normally, arriving at home always put you at ease, always. But today was different.

When you entered your kitchen, you thought about the upcoming days. Studying, studying and even more studying. You were tired of it and the thought of spending the following days caught up in the library made your eyes glisten. Of course, you were aware of the fact that crying wouldn’t make your situation better, it wouldn’t help with studying and still you weren’t able to stop the tears from falling. You were hungry, but at the same time you felt like any kind of food would make you throw up immediately. You were tired but well aware that there are still some things on today’s to-do list. All you wanted to do was snuggle up against your boyfriend’s chest, forcing him to stroke your hair and falling into a deep sleep.

After deciding against food, you made your way back into the living room, still carrying your bag on your shoulder. Thankfully your boyfriend of three years didn’t leave a mess on the coffe table today – because most of the time he did.

“Hey.”, you didn’t even realize Julian was standing next to you until he spoke out. “Babe it’s almost one am, what are you doing?”, he furrowed his eyebrows at you, slowly rubbing the sleep from his eyes. You shot him a weak smile while shrugging softly. Julian knew that the past few days left you exhausted, but every time he tried to stop you from overworking yourself you snapped at him, telling him to leave you alone. “Oh no Y/N”, he said a little louder as he noticed your eyes watering, immediately walking over to. “I’m sorry.”, your voice came out as a whisper, voice cracking as you shook your head. Why?

“Don’t be.”, whispered Julian against your hair as he pulled you into his toned chest, slowly stroking your back and hair. “It’s ok.”, he reassured you. “I don’t feel like it’s ok.”, again, your voiced cracked and you couldn’t stop more tears from falling. “I think it’s time for bed Liebling.”, Julian said as he closed your laptop, standing up slowly while still holding you in his arms. Due to your immense tiredness you didn’t even complain about his actions and just followed him into your shared bedroom. “I’m going to take a shower.”, you untangled yourself from his grip and wandered off into your walk-in closet and closed the door behind you as your crying got even worse. Crying in front of Julian never made you feel stupid and you usually talk very openly about your issues, but this time you couldn’t even stand looking at him and you didn’t know why. It was something about his knowing, pitifully smile that made you feel even worse.

As you stripped of your clothes and entered the shower you took a deep breath, trying to calm your nerves a little bit. But even while washing your hair the tears wouldn’t stop escaping your eyes. You felt weak and ridiculous while wondering if your anxious behavior in stressful periods would ever stop. After stepping out of the shower and putting on a slip and one of Julian’s shirts you hoped your boyfriend had already fallen asleep again. You didn’t want to talk, you wanted to snuggle and a back-rub, yes, but no talking, because talking to him about it would leave you even more anxious than before – that’s what you thought at least.

When entering the bedroom, you immediately noticed Julian still being awake, strolling through his Instagram page mindlessly. He looked up as soon as he realized that you entered the room and put away his phone, softly pulling the duvet over in order to make some space for you. You sat down on the bed and tied your hair into a braid before laying down. Both you and Julian turned on your side so you could look at each other. He shot you a soft smile, again, almost causing you to cry again. “It is ok. I promise!”, he muttered softly while reaching out to you and pulling you into his arms. You couldn’t answer because you were scared you would start to freak out again. Julian’s heartbeat helped you to calm down a little bit, his hands running along you back making your eyes very heavy.

“I don’t even know why I feel so anxious about it.”, you whispered unsure if Julian was still awake. “You put too much pressure on yourself and to be honest I don’t even know why. You are such a strong, intelligent women, I have never seen you NOT being on top of your game and I’m so proud to call you my girlfriend, but this has to stop. So what if you don’t ace every single one of your exams, hell even if you have to redo a course, nothing should be more important than your wellbeing and you are miserable Y/N, you have been miserable these past few days and it has to stop.”. Julian’s little rant stopped, and you tiled your head so you could look into his face.

There were so many things you wanted to say, expressing your feeling, arguing with his reasons, but all you could do was wrap your arms around his upper body and pressing a kiss on his neck. You always knew that Julian probably was the best boyfriend one could have, but especially moments like this made you feel even more thankful. You felt his arms tightening around you in order to pull you even closer.

“I don’t have training tomorrow and I want to spend the day with you, alright?”, he asked still stroking your hair while shooting you a loving look. “Bu- I know where you are coming from, but my exams will start in less than ten days, I really have to study.”, you reasoned, sounding completely serious. He nodded softly “At least promise me to come home earlier tomorrow, I wanna spend the evening with you. We could order Chinese take-out and watch some of those chick flicks you love sooo much because Ryan Gosling is soooo hot.”, at the end of the sentence he imitated your voice, making you laugh.

“I love you, you know?”, you asked him while looking into his eyes. “And I don’t even know why I deserve you.”

{ tagged: @julianbrandtrelated }

[jordanmu]

TAGGING: Julian Smythe, Kiara Richardson.

LOCATION: Paris, France.

TIMEFRAME: 2/14, evening.

WARNINGS: None.

NOTES: Julian proposes to Kiara on Valentine’s Day.

JULIAN SMYTHE

Julian Smythe was a mess. His heart was beating fast, his hands were clammy, his brain was going a mile a minute as it tried to figure out the words he was going to say later. He was about to take a huge step with the woman that he loved and though he was about ninety-nine percent sure of her answer, it didn't make it any less nerve-wracking. After their dinner at Bateau le Calife - a great view of the Eiffel Tower in the background and even better food - Julian knew it was time. He'd had two glasses of wine because he knew he needed the liquid courage, and he signaled to the manager of the restaurant that it was time. He'd prepared it so that the manager could take pictures and a video from a distance, and he'd obviously paid him a hefty tip for it, too - now it was a matter of actually doing it. "Do you want to go for a walk?" Julian asked Kiara, excited that they were spending Valentine's Day in Paris, of all places, and that he was about to ask her to marry him. He loved her so much and knew she was his soulmate. She was perfect for him and he couldn't wait to spend the rest of his life with her. KIARA RICHARDSON

Being in Paris for Valentine’s Day with Julian was an absolute dream for Kiara, and she was sure that she never wanted it to end. Everything was completely perfect, and she felt as if she was a part of a movie and playing the main character. Having dinner while looking at the Eiffel Tower was breathtaking, but not as breathtaking as Julian. Kiara was so madly in love with him, and this trip to Paris completely sealed the deal for her. She smiled and nodded when Julian asked if she wanted to go on a walk, thankful for something a little bit more private. Even though Kiara was usually loud and opinionated, she was quiet and calm today. She was far too happy and peaceful to let anything ruin that. “Of course, sweetheart,” Kiara nodded, taking one last sip of her wine before grabbing her purse and pushing herself out of her seat. “You lead the way, handsome,” Kiara told him, noticing that he was a little bit off. It seemed as if he had something on his mind, and Kiara selfishly hoped there would be some sort of surprise in her Valentine’s gift. She linked her arms with Julian, waiting for him to guide them on their walk.

JULIAN SMYTHE

Everything was falling into place so easily that it honestly took his breath away. The Parisian night was a little cool but clear, the stars shining bright as they and the Tower lit up the city. He couldn't have asked for a better night or a better backdrop for this moment, and he was so glad that it would be perfect. It's what Kiara deserved. As much as a night with rain or snow would've made for a great anecdote, this was how he envisioned everything. The ring weighed heavy against his chest, the box pressing against his shirt at an awkward angle, but his coat hid it just right. Although he was sure Kiara knew, he did want it to be a surprise. "Beautiful night, isn't it?" he asked, his breath visible in front of them; he was warm now, his cheeks and ears were probably pink due to his blush. Julian kissed Kiara's cheek as the La Seine river flowed near them, adding just a little bit of ambient background noise amongst the other couples having a romantic nighttime stroll. "I don't think we're ever going to top this Valentine's Day, unfortunately" he chuckled, leaning his body against hers, "we're in Paris. Where else could we go in the future that would hold a candle to this?" Not only that, but it would be the day he got down on one knee. Really, what could top today? "I'm in Paris with my girl. I'm the happiest and luckiest man I know." KIARA RICHARDSON

Even though Kiara never really envisioned herself to be a romantic who wore her heart on her sleeve, Julian brought that out in her. She’d always been someone who preferred take out and Netflix, but honestly this had topped every single thing they’d done together. It was magical outside, and she couldn’t help but fall deeper in love with Julian. Even though she hoped that he would’ve proposed by now, she was grateful that they were spending this kind of evening together anyway. “You mean to tell me that Chinese and binging You doesn’t top this?” Kiara joked, somewhat distracted by everything around them. She’d never seen anything this beautiful in person, and she couldn’t believe she was dating someone who had enough money to make things such as this happen. “I’m the happiest person in the world,” Kiara told him, turning her attention towards him. Valentine’s Day was a silly holiday, but now Kiara thought that it might be her favorite. “It’s hard to believe our trip has just begun. I feel so spoiled, like.. Is there really more to do here?” She stopped for a moment, enjoying the scenery, and then turned to kiss Julian’s cheek once more. “Thank you so much for this. You know I won’t ever be able to get you a Christmas gift that holds a candle to this, right?” JULIAN SMYTHE "You know what will top it?" Julian asked, a small smile pulling at his lips as the tension was somewhat eased, although he still felt that weight on his chest - he did need her teasing to take him out of his thoughts. "Us watching something as ridiculous as Gossip Girl or even one of those vampire shows. Let's just go deeper into that trashy hole so we can judge ourselves after." They had pretty stressful jobs with a lot of pressure mounted on them, so they made a pact to always leave that behind once they went home. So, they usually got takeout and watched dumb stuff on Netflix to ease themselves back into being them; he wouldn't change that for the world. Only Kiara would understand what it meant to actually need something like that at the end of the day. Julian hummed when Kiara told him she was the happiest person in the world, ducking his head shyly as he tried to hide his blush. The only thing he ever wanted was to make her happy. "There's so much more to do here, babe. I'll show you. We'll go to my favorite spots and I'll take you to places that mean a lot to me and my family. And places that will mean a lot to us in the future." He shook his head when she mentioned a Christmas gift that would compare to this, murmuring against her cheek, "as long as you're there, spending every Christmas with me, I'll be happy. That's all I'll need." Julian took her hand in his and led them to what he knew would be the spot - he just needed to gather the courage to do what he had been meaning to do for a couple of months. KIARA RICHARDSON 

Everything just felt magical, and all Kiara wanted to do was freeze the moment and time and live in it forever. "Gossip Girl? You've got me, boo," Kiara teased, thinking about all the times that they've watched trashy television shows together. It seemed as if the two of them were perfect for one another, wanting nothing but to cuddle in bed together and watch trashy shows on Netflix. "I love you so much," she ended up saying, quickly and jumbled together. It seemed as if Julian was saying all of the right things, making the butterflies in her stomach swarm crazily. Even though he hadn't proposed to her like she thought he would, at least they would have this beautiful memory between the two of them. "I want to spend every Christmas for the rest of my life with you, Jules," Kiara told him, intertwining their fingers and kissing the tips of all his fingers just to give herself something to do. She was feeling amazing -- slightly tipsy from the wine, awestruck of Paris, and completely and totally in love with Julian. What more could Kiara ask for, really? Instead of saying any of this, Kiara closed the gap between them and kissed him slowly and softly, hoping her emotions would come out through the kiss.

JULIAN SMYTHE

I want to spend every Christmas for the rest of my life with you, Jules. And that was when he knew that this was it. This was the moment. Both Julian and Kiara were on the same page when it came to their relationship, wanting to spend the rest of their lives with one another. There was no turning back, either - not that he'd ever want to. Julian loved her and though he sometimes had a tendency to overthink some things and over-analyze them, he was sure of this. "Me too" he whispered against her lips, cupping her cheek with his right hand and pulling out the box from his jacket with his left, "which is why..." He pulled away, smiling at her nervously as he got down on one knee and opened the box, clearing his throat as he gathered his thoughts. "I love you" he said, clearing his throat again as he tried to make his voice a little louder and less shaky, "and I feel like the luckiest man in the world because I have you in my life. I know you think I'm silly and I make you roll your eyes sometimes, but I know that you love me as much as I love you. I know that you're my soulmate. I know that I wouldn't want to share Paris or the rest of my life with anybody else in the world. I know that the moment I went up to you at that bar that one night... I know that moment changed my life for the better. I know I wouldn't want to share a last name with anybody else but you. I know I want to spend all of my Valentine's, all of my Christmas's... all of my Halloween's and Thanksgiving's... every New Year's kiss... I want it all with you. I love you." Julian smiled at her, tears in his eyes as he presented the ring to her - bright, big, perfect - "Kiara Richardson... will you marry me?" KIARA RICHARDSON

It was almost as if something in the air had changed, and the next thing that Kiara knew, Julian was on one knee in front of her. She couldn’t help but laugh out, completely shocked, ignoring those around her who were getting excited to hear her answer. Right now, this was all about the two of them. In true Julian Smythe fashion, he had quite a bit to say, and by the time that he was finished talking Kiara couldn’t help but start crying happily. Tears streamed down her face and she couldn’t help but nod, completely at a loss for words. As he stood there on one knee in front of her, Kiara knew that there was absolutely no one else in the world she would say yes to. She put her hand out for him to slip the ring on her hand, finally bringing herself to speak: “yes, yes. A million times yes, Julian,” she breathed out, marveling at the ring once it was on her finger. She wrapped her arms around him, bringing him close and kissing him as tears continued to fall. The thought of spending the rest of her life with him was overwhelming, but Kiara knew she wanted it all. She forgot about anyone else in the world and focused on Julian, kissing him soft and slow and was sure he’d tasted the salty tears. “I love you, I love you so much,” Kiara mumbled, pressing their foreheads together, laughing out in surprise once more. “I can’t believe this...” JULIAN SMYTHE

Though Julian had a feeling she would say yes, his heart was still beating fast in anticipation, worry nagging at him as he waited and wondered if maybe he was moving too fast and they weren't ready for the next step in their relationship. His worries were soon nonexistent as she started crying, putting her hand out for him before she even said yes - that was enough. When she actually said yes, though? Julian started crying as well, letting out a breath he didn't know he was holding as he stood up and kissed her softly with all he had. He didn't care if people were watching, he didn't care if they cheered or if they were annoyed that they were making a show. This was their moment and he'd be damned if anyone ruined it for them. "I love you too, baby" he whispered against her lips, pulling her close to him and letting out an incredulous laugh, at a loss because she'd actually said yes. They were going to get married. "Are you ready to be Mrs. Kiara Smythe?" he asked before kissing her again, knowing his tears hadn't stopped falling but... not caring. This moment was perfect; she was perfect. "I love you." KIARA RICHARDSON 

If there was any moment that Kiara wanted to freeze in time forever, it was this one right here. The love she felt for Julian was insurmountable, and all she wanted was to keep her arms wrapped around him and stay just like that. The ring felt heavy on her finger because she was so aware of it, and she couldn't help but look down at it. It was incredibly beautiful and large, just like she imagined it would be. Julian Smythe never did anything half-assed, and certainly not an engagement ring. "It's so beautiful, Jules. The ring.. Wow," she breathed out, wondering if one of her sisters had help him out in choosing the ring or if he did it all by himself. Honestly, neither of those things would've surprised her. When he asked her if she was ready to be Kiara Smythe, she couldn't help but chuckle and nod her head immediately. "Kiara Smythe has a ring to it. I believe you said that a month ago, hm?"

[bishreview]

Lots of Quickies

Hi, I’ve been real busy lately and have started a heap of reviews that I’ve been unable to finish because of time restraints and stress. University can get on my back quickly but I’m finished now so I’m going to finish the ones I started before getting into a top 10 for films, albums and singles for the mid year (probably released before the end of June). 

Avengers: Infinity War

The biggest crossover movie event ever pitted together the 20+ heroes against the big bad villain of the Marvel universe, Thanos. With a giant cast full of big names, a range of genres and a massive story to deal with, there were a lot of risks that the Russo brothers faced to make this movie. Despite it feeling supersaturated with characters and having some pacing issues, they were successful in creating a massive, climatic film, and Infinity War is close to the MCU’s best.

Avengers: Infinity War gets an A-

Breath

Simon Baker’s adaptation of the highly acclaimed Tim Winton novel of the same name had a surprising amount of hype for an Australian film. Although there is some gorgeous cinematography, especially with some of the surfing shots, the movie is bogged down by stale acting, shocking character development, inconsistent pacing, and a directionless plot. With the movie just coming under the 2hr mark, it feels overly long and bland, lacking originality in both the surfing genre and the coming-of-age genre.

Breath gets a D

Deadpool 2

Deadpool was an unbelievable success in 2016, shattering records and expectations as it became one of the most successful R-rated films ever. With the sequel they have expanded the universe, introducing ‘the X Force’ for the future of the franchise. This introduces many new strong characters, including Domino (Zazie Beetz) who steals every scene she’s in, and Firefist/Rusty Collins (Julian Dennison) who is works well with the titular character (Ryan Reynolds). Thankfully they haven’t sacrificed the quality of the film in order to universe build, with the sequel being almost as hilarious as the first, whilst digging into deeper themes of mortality and family.

Deadpool 2 gets an A

Hereditary

I generally split horror films into three categories; the aim to scare, the aim to gross out, and the aim to unsettle. Hereditary falls into the last category. It’s been a long time since a film has me shook by the end of it. This isn’t an enjoyable film at all, instead being a tiresome experience of slowly increasing tension and uncomfortableness. This makes it one of the best horror films I’ve ever seen. Toni Collette and Alex Wolff are both incredible and the cinematography and score are perfect, complimenting the story and giving the tension exactly what it needs to flourish. The use of shadows and wide shots create an atmosphere which is unlike any horror movie I’ve ever seen, giving you enough to be scared but not enough to know why. Hereditary isn’t for anyone, it is slow and there are no payoffs for the tension (like jumpscares), but its a testament to how one can build tension on film and up there with the greats of the genre.

Hereditary gets an A+

Solo: A Star Wars Story

Solo isn’t a complex movie. It doesn’t try to be a massive connection story like Rogue One, nor an epic adventure like The Force Awakens or The Last Jedi. Instead it plays to its strength, a low stakes origin story which gives a few characters some extra screen time. And it works to that extent, Han, Lando and Chewie being introduced well and having a fun adventure. It does have issues with pacing and the overcooked “shock betrayals” towards the climax starts getting cringy more than surprising but the journey is enjoyable fun, becoming a simple popcorn flick with a lot of replay value.

Solo: A Star Wars Story gets a B-

13 Reasons Why

13 Reasons Why has quickly become on the most decisive and controversial TV shows in recent memory. Season One had its issues but still held itself up due to its characters and story development. To put it simple, Season Two didn’t need to be made and it’s very clear that it was forced out. Only three of the characters remain interesting with their story arcs, the script is derivative and banal, and events happen only for the purpose of the plot. This all leads up to terribly cringey moments and a predictable ending (which follows one of the most disturbing and unneeded scenes in TV). I will give the show props though for attempting a realistic court hearing and a beautiful moment in which the main cast come together in memory of their deceased friend, a moment which really should’ve ended the series.

13 Reasons Why gets a D-

Atlanta: Robbin’ Season

Donald Glover’s Atlanta is something else. The debut season explored the African American life, relationships, the Hip Hop scene, poverty and young parenthood in such a unique and fresh way. With Robbin’ Season Glover gets deeper into his characters, exploring their flaws with a realistic lens. It works as well, with each episode making a range of statements, varying from depression and grief, to dating and ‘investments’. By the end of the season the main ensemble has changed so much that season three is a complete unknown. What the show doesn’t pretend to do though is become cliched, with success still an unobtainable goal and their desire to reach it getting more desperate. To summarise, this is honestly one of the best seasons of television ever produced. Also, bonus points for Teddy Perkins being the scariest character ever conceived in a hip hop story.

Atlanta: Robbin’ Season gets an A+

Arctic Monkeys - Tranquillity Base Hotel & Casino

With album number six, Arctic Monkeys attempted to completely re-image themselves. Diverting from their previous, guitar driven, indie rock, TBH&C delves into a smoother, 70s psychedelic inspired direction, with most songs utilising a keyboard to accompany Alex Turner’s almost mindless ramblings (at times successful, other times forced)). Although the band have changed the direction, it seems they’ve changed it to a familiar territory, with a lot of the songs sounds like Alex Turner’s recent The Last Shadow Puppets materiel (and some seeming like the B-sides of them). Although there are stronger moments, there’s a lot of filler and some of the weakest material of the band’s quite consistent career.

Favourite song: ‘The Ultracheese’

Tranquillity Base Hotel & Casino gets a C

 A$AP Rocky - Testing

The A$AP mob’s most successful mainstream member, Rocky, has been moving at a rapid rate. His popularity and critical acclaim has been moving up with every release. Testing is both a step in the right direction and the wrong direction. Although it’s is most ambitious record to date, influenced by psychedelic, electronica and ambient music, it’s quite messy and inconsistent. Songs start well to just fall away in their second half and there’s simply too many tracks to keep interest high. A$AP Rocky is doing very different things in hip hop and Testing will hopefully continue to lead him on his path, it’s just disappointing the album couldn’t be stronger.

Favourite track: ‘Purity (feat. Frank Ocean)’

Testing gets a C+

Courtney Barnett - Tell Me How You Really Feel

I’m one of those people that didn’t rate Courtney Barnett’s breakout debut. I found it redundant and pretentious. With her sophomore though she takes a lot of what was strong from her debut and worked with it. Although there’s a clunky and repetitive middle section, the first third of the album is very good music. Barnett has a wonderful way with melodies when she tries to write melodic music and her voice, although not the strongest, can be really emotive. There’s still some rambling tracks but her development is quite noticeable and from someone who couldn’t get through multiple listens of her debut, this was an enjoyable album.

Favourite track: ‘Hopefulessness’

Tell Me How You Really Feel gets a C+

DMAs - For Now

DMAs’ debut was something special in 2016. A 90s Brit-Pop revival album which was better than most 90s Brit-Pop. For Now continues their journey through British music, sharing similarities with bands like The Cure, The Smiths, Boomtown Rats and The Stone Roses. It’s very successful, with a wide range of influences and styles being incorporated in their sound. The album is much more consistent their debut, with each track being different yet based around the general ‘feel’ of the album. Unfortunately, it doesn’t have that big moment that their debut had, with no tracks really standing out as something incredible. That doesn’t weaken the album too much though, being one of the strongest releases of the year.

Favourite track: ‘Tape Deck Sick’ 

For Now gets an A-

Kanye West - Ye

I love this album cover. It’s very simple but very effective, representing both the minimalist, emotional, and cold album that is to come. Ye isn’t the first Kanye album to be lowkey, or sad, or left of field. It isn’t something special in his career though, an album where it really seems he condenses his talent into a short time (it is only seven songs) and really lets the production of the tracks take over, with some of the best moments being when he’s not on the mic (’Ghost Town’ has an outro which is just brilliant thanks to 070 Shake). That’s not to say Kanye’s voice doesn’t shine, ‘Wouldn’t Leave’ is a testament to his lyrical and rapping strengths, but his production is his best in nearly a decade. Although there are some weaker tracks and some cheesy lyrical moments, Ye reminds us why we continue to love Kanye, because he continues to release some of the best hip hop available.

Favourite track: ‘Ghost Town’

Ye gets a B+

Kids See Ghosts - Kids See Ghosts

If someone gave me a list of all the albums released this year before the year started, a collaboration between Kanye and Kid Cudi would definitely be my most anticipated. An album combining two of the most important voices in hip hop during the late 00s, both of them being instrumental in bringing topics of mental illness into mainstream hip hop. Where I expected Kids See Ghosts to be a darker album though, the album is almost a celebration of overcoming their demons. There are still some darker tracks, like the album closer ‘Cudi Montage’, there’s a lot of fiery tracks (like the conveniently titled ‘Fire’) and uplifting tracks (the album standout ‘Reborn’). There are some brilliant moments on this album, whether it comes from the strangely funny yet creepy sample of Louis Prima’s ‘What Will Santa Claus Say’ in ‘4th Dimension’, the ballsy attempt at scat rap in ‘Feel the Love’, or the gorgeous chorus in ‘Cudi Montage’ which features the beloved noise of Cudi humming (God bless Cudi and his biblical humming). Although the track listing works in its disadvantage some tracks do have some strange choices in direction (the end of ‘Fire’ sounds great but doesn’t fit with the song, nor the album), Kids See Ghosts is a contender for album of the year.

Favourite track: ‘Reborn’

Kids See Ghosts gets an A

Lily Allen - No Shame

Lily Allen will always be one of the most lovable cynics in music. Her career has been largely satirical takes of political and societal issues through upbeat, pop songs. With No Shame she seems to direct her satire on to herself, literally roasting herself, focusing on her recent divorce, motherhood, drug addiction, and balancing her fame and career with family life. This makes for a very deep, and at times dark, listen. Somehow though, through all this, Lily Allen has made her best album, and maybe the best album this year. Lead single ‘Trigger Bang’ is a brilliant pop song, reminding us of her humble beginnings whilst delving into criticisms of the industry and her place in it. Tracks like ‘Lost My Mind’ and ‘Everything to Feel Something’ are some of her saddest, roughly criticising her lifestyle with some beautiful production and instrumentation. And the gorgeous piano-ballad, ‘Three’, is as beautiful as it is rough, the lyrics being from her daughter’s perspective of Allen not being around for her kids. The album does allow a lighter ending, the final few tracks feeling upbeat and optimistic, something rare from albums which explore such dark themes. Although there are a couple of tracks where the dancehall vibe feels slightly too strong considering the lyrical content, No Shame is something special, and a sign of unbelievable growth for an artist over a decade old. 

Favourite track: ‘Everything to Feel Something’

No Shame gets an A

Middle Kids - Lost Friends

Middle Kids are slowly becoming the most underappreciated act in Australia. Their critical acclaim and industry cred are both high but their commercial success hasn’t blossomed in Australia. Their debut album looks to be their big push (it reached #10 on the ARIA album charts), and for good reason. It’s a really consistent album, with each song being a good alternative rock song. There are some lyrical moments which are average and some songs go for a little too long but each track fits well on the album and are enjoyable. For a debut, it’s a good one and really builds up anticipation to hear more from the band and see where they go. 

Favourite track: ‘Edge of Town’

Lost Friends get a B

Nas - Nasir

Nasir is another good release from the recent G.O.O.D Music output with Kanye West, although it’s probably the weakest so far. The production on it is really good, with the beats driving most of the songs, but Nas seems misguided and confused on a lot of the tracks. He has good messages behind the songs, referencing themes from police brutality to finances, but he doesn’t seem to really push his ideas, mostly feeling like there is a lack of passion or interest. It’s still an enjoyable album but the feeling of going through the motions is littered throughout and thus is quite disappointing.

Favourite track: ‘Everything’

Nasir gets a C+

Parkway Drive - Reverence

Australia’s premier Metalcore band, Parkway Drive, have has a mixed career for me. Their previous album, Ire, was one of their best, with the songs being meatier and relentless, not holding back at all whilst bringing new influences in. With album number six I’m not sure whether they’ve gone backwards or forwards. It’s different from their previous releases, leaning on cleaner singing much more often, and the influences are clearly from the heavy metal genre of the late 70′s to the early 90′s, but it doesn’t have a strong identity. At times it seems like a tribute album and really doesn’t standout or have its own image and sound. There are still some strong songs but a lot of the album feels like filler and for a band which has been leading the way in the genre in Australia for so long, it seems like they are now falling behind. 

Favourite track: ‘The Void’

Reverence gets a C-

Post Malone - Beerbongs and Bentley’s

Every now and then Post Malone nails it and he’s definitely ridden off the success of these moments (think the songs ‘Congratulations’ and ‘I Fall Apart’). There is a hidden talent there which is covered up by the cheesy songwriting and cliched style that he presents. On Beerbongs and Bentley’s he hides this talent better than ever. This is a very mediocre album, which is made even worse since it has 18 songs and drags for over an hour. He seems to run out of things to say very quickly and there’s few moments that really standout as interesting or fresh. It’s definitely a step backwards after the far more interesting Stoney. 

Favourite track: ‘Stay’

Beerbongs and Bentley’s gets a D-

The Presets - Hi Viz

One of my first introductions to music was Apocalypso, The Presets breakout sophomore album which blew away the Australian dance scene. It’s been about 10 years since that release and other than the left-of-field Pacifica, The Presets have been relatively quiet besides festival appearances. Hi Viz is the album they needed though. There are so many certified bangers on this album, from the lead single ‘Do What You Want’ to the giant album closer ‘Until the Dark’. They also bring in some really strong features, with both Alison Wonderland and DMAs shining on both their feature tracks. Although there are some filler in the album, and it does get repetitive towards the middle, it’s an excellent return to form from the band and establish them back at the top of the Australian dance scene.

Favourite track: ‘Feel Alone’

Hi Viz gets a B+

Pusha T - Daytona

Daytona was the first album from the G.O.O.D Music trail of releases of the past month and it really kicked off the project well. The production is really strong, the instrumentals on each track are solid, Pusha T’s lyrics are great (like usual) and the features fit nicely. I think the major weakness is that at times Pusha T’s voice doesn’t fit nicely with the music, especially with the mixing of his vocals at times. It seems to sit too high in the mix and seems out of place. Other than that though it’s a really solid album and an enjoyable listen. 

Favourite track: ‘If You Know You Know

Daytona gets a B

[trbl-will-find-me]

Every Exit, An Entrance (30/?)

She commands, and commands, and commands and then she sleeps, but even then, the cycle repeats. The Avenger or the Anthill, the Fog pods or the Chosen, the Council or ADVENT: binary pairs, variations on a theme she can’t escape.

It’s the brief adjustment period that still startles her, a disquieting confusion about where and when she is, memories of a life unlived still fresh in her mind.

It’s better when John is there, when she can ground herself in the steady rise and fall of his chest, the feeling of his fingers on her skin, the smell of his soap in her nose. It is gentler, then.

The mornings alone are the worst. No matter where she wakes, there is a profound feeling that it is wrong, even as her surroundings buoy her towards a sense of place, visual landmarks steeped in familiarity.

The ship or the subterrain, she takes comfort, at least, in the small simple fact that the face that meets her gaze in the mirror is always the same. Small mercies.

It’s not the disorientation so much that bothers her –not anymore– but the lingering notion that something is off. She considers herself to be well-grounded in reality; the daily reminder that she may not be, that stress, or the tank, or something has left that sense forever impaired is what truly bothers her about the process. Most days, it fades without fanfare, like coming to from a dream.

Most, but not all.

--

Of the possibilities she had not properly accounted for, her soldiers reading her work ranks near the top,

“So, this is why they picked you,” Molchetti gestures towards her screen. “I always wondered.”

“I can’t believe you guys are actually reading my papers.”

“Why wouldn’t we?’

“Because you lived them?”

“We did not live your theories on agricultural security in bioterror events.”

She wrinkles her nose. “Oh god, that’s an early one. Why would you read that?”

“Everyone else is.”

It is, unfortunately, a true statement. Her life before XCOM has become a topic of scrutiny for the press, barring any concrete details on her existence since March 1, 2015. She is torn between a vague sort of pride in her work receiving so much attention, and a strong desire to direct that attention towards almost anything else. She feels as if she’s been subjected to a second defense, one at which she is unable to speak, and must only watch as her work is judged by those not truly qualified to evaluate it.

“I know this is what we wanted,” she admits to John over dinner. “But it’s more than a little uncomfortable.”

“It’s been generally good press.”

“Generally?”

“You weren’t really expecting friends at Fox News, were you?”

She laughs. “Not with my publication history.”

“Your publication history, your conference presentations, your commentary. None of it.”

“Tell me someone called me a coastal elite.”

“You’re not getting that kind of attention from them. Who knows, though? Maybe they’ll dig something else up.”

--

The whole mission has spiraled out of control. An abandoned ADVENT facility in the middle of the tropics under the control of a sentient AI initially designed by Raymond Shen would be bad enough, but the addition of Lily’s presence on the field adds another level of unneeded difficulty. A seemingly endless supply of mechs, however rusted, and a forced reliance upon single passenger freight lifts hardly help the situation.

But, of all things, the AI seems to know them, and it seems to be doing its damnedest to find a way under Central’s skin.

“Are you still there, Bradford? I was beginning to wonder if you’d finally drowned yourself in the liquor.”

She watches his hands tighten into fists.

“Menace,” she instructs. “Keep pushing.”

The team has done well, all things considered. They have taken a few wounds, mostly minor, and they’ve kept Lily safe. They just need to find an escape route and, with any luck, disable this Julian character for good.

“Getting tired yet, Central? You’re an old man with one foot in the grave. I wonder why these people put up with you.”

Sally freezes for a moment, her hands hovering over her console.

“Fuck off, you glorified toaster!” Kelly yells.

“Look at them, so willing to defend you,” Julian purrs. “Do they know the blood on your hands? I’ve seen the world you’ve built, and frankly, it’s below even my expectations.”

She watches him reach for his flask, then think better of it, hands coming to grip the Hologlobe’s rails.

Menace advances, making their way towards a chamber at the far end of the room.

“And here I thought you would have run after her, Central. Or are some lives just more valuable than others? You’ve always played fast and loose, haven’t you?”

“Ignore him,” she orders, though she’s not sure if the edict is meant for those onboard the Avenger or off.

“It really would have been better to have just turned yourself in. Think of the lives you would have spared in the two decades it took you to find your precious Commander. And for what? You have to know you can’t win this.”

The ground team makes their way up a flight of stairs towards the smaller chamber.

“Oh, yes, ADVENT may fall. But have you considered that there is worse to come? Or hasn’t she told you?”

Her heart stutters in her chest. She has no idea what Julian is on about, but the last thing she needs is for Bradford to believe she’s keeping secrets. They have both worked so hard to mend things. She can’t have them shattered again.

“I really must thank Father,” Julian drawls. “It seems he really was the only competent one at XCOM.”

“Will somebody shut him up?” Central growls.

On screen, Lily makes her way towards an enormous robotic chassis. It springs to life at her touch, diverting Julian’s attention.

She uses the brief respite to take stock of the bridge crew. They are universally uncomfortable, uncertain of how to respond to Julian’s taunts. While she has no idea what the mad AI could be on about in terms of something worse still to come, even she’s forced to concede its comments to Central have all carried a grain of truth; it’s what allows them to cut so deeply, after all.

Sally watched her guardian with a kind of deep concern on her face, as if she were waiting for something to break. His avoidance of his flask does not seem to reassure.

Her attention snaps back to the screen at the sound of Raymond Shen’s voice, thread and tired. Something in her chest clenches and she’s seized by her own upswell of grief.

But it will have to wait until later as the outer chamber around them floods with a deadly gas.

--

In general, she tries to avoid being overly punitive. The men and women under her command work long hours under intense pressure and without sufficient outlet. She’s watched enough MASH to know what those circumstances breed.

Really, she’s been spared any serious antics. Yes, there had been a brief issue with trophy keeping, and yes, there had been more than a few off-color jokes, but by and large, they have all behaved as professionals.

They still do.

She would just prefer they find other reading material than her publication history.

John sits across from her after dinner, the door to her office securely locked.

“Saudi Arabia.” He says.

She squirms in her chair. “How much?

“Almost a quarter of our operating budget.”

Her eyes goes wide. “And what’s the price tag on that?”

“They want a Firestorm base.”

“It’s our people who operate them.”

“They seem to understand that.”

She rests her elbows on her desk, and buries her head in her hands.

“Lizzie,” he says. “You can’t turn them down. Not if we want this to work.”

“I know, but---”

“No but. They have money and influence. We need both.”

“Their human rights record---”

“China, Russia, Brazil, South Africa, and the US: we’re not free from moral failings on that front as it is.”

He’s right, of course. She can admit that much.

The offer is good – better than good, even – and a Firestorm base in that part of the world would only help them should the worst come to pass. Better coverage would mean a better air game; a better air game might spare cities.

She really can’t find a downside, and her own moral qualms seem small by comparison.

“There’s something else,” he says.

“Good or bad?”

“It puts us over the operating budget we’d need --- over what we had at the peak of hostilities. And they’d likely bring another bloc of support along with them.”

“We’d be free to create a separate charter and decloak.”

He nods. “We’ll keep leaking files, get the documents drawn up, and drop cover.”

“And either succeed brilliantly, or find ourselves arrested.”

“Not the worst stakes we’ve ever lived with.”

“And there’s really no backing down now.”

“Not if you want to keep that research contained.”

She presses her lips together for a moment. “How do we get documents? We don’t have any lawyers in-house.”

“We have ways.”

--

The SPARK had been a surprise, yes, but it had been a pleasant one. The prototype Sectopod, however, had been an entirely different matter.

Even so, they are still here. Yes, the SPARK needs repairs and, yes, Moon will be in the infirmary a few days longer, but their gains far outpace their losses.

It doesn’t hurt that ADVENT remains seemingly none the wiser to their whereabouts.

In the three days since Menace team’s return from the tower, she has seen little of her Central Officer, but their scant interactions have been free of any tension. She suspects that something is amiss, but she refuses to push the matter.

“Commander?” Sally’s voice cuts over the comm. “I think you should see this.”

She can’t be certain, but she’d swear there’s a note of panic.

“Contact? Transmission from one of the Havens?”

“It’s Central, ma’am.”

She feels her skin prickle. “Where are you?”

“Aft-storage, sub-level C.”

“I’ll be right there.”

The sight that greets her is by far the worst surprise she has received as of late. Bradford, curled on the ground, Sally’s fingers hooked over his wrist.

“It’s withdrawal,” she says. “He must have fucked up the taper.”

“How do you know?” She says, kneeling down next to her.

She shakes her head. “It was like this the first time. It’s like this every time. He gets impatient and it all goes to hell. Last time almost killed him. And we had help then.”

“You have help now.”

“Tygan?”

“I know it’s not the best, but the man’s got a degree in pharmacology. He can calculate a dosage, if nothing else.”

Sally wrings her hands. “I don’t think I can do this again.”

The Commander shakes her head. “You’re not going to. Go get Tygan. We’ll handle it.”

The girl makes no effort to move.

“Go,” she says, voice gentle. “I’ll stay with him.”

She nods after a moment and sets off, returning shortly with the Chief Scientist in tow. Between them, they haul Bradford to his feet. They send Sally on ahead, scouting to make sure the halls are clear.  The bridge is mostly empty, save for a skeleton crew on monitoring duty, and they’re able to maneuver him into her quarters without attracting much attention.

She starts an IV line, now grateful that her last medic re-certification had been only three months prior to the invasion. Tygan leaves, then returns with something in a syringe.

“Lorazepam.”

“You think he’s gonna seize?”

“Sally had indicated there was a history.”

She draws in a breath and lets it out. “Well. This could get interesting.”

“In my time with XCOM, Commander, I’ve come to accept that as the norm.”

 She knows she shouldn’t find that quite as funny as she does.

 It’s a quiet few hours. Central spends the bulk of it asleep or otherwise unconscious. She spends the bulk of it perched on the edge of the bed, reaching out every now and then to brush sweat-soaked hair off of his forehead.

“Lizzie? You really here?” He groans when he finally wakes.

I don’t know, she wants to tell him. I don’t know if this is real, or a dream, or some other simulation. I go to sleep here, and I wake up somewhere else. I go to sleep there, and I wake up here. This feels real, sure, but it also feels wrong. Like I’m not supposed to be here. Like I ended up here by mistake. I don’t know. I wish I did. All I know is that you are here and I am here and, for now, that will have to be enough.

“Yeah,” she says. “Yeah, sweetheart. I’m here. You came for me. I’m with you.”

“Don’t know if I believe you.”

“Think that’s the fever talking.”

“You only ever called me that once. And it wasn’t real.”

“What?”

“You know.”

Sweetheart, her brain helpfully supplies. You haven’t called anyone that since. Well.

“It was real,” she says, softly.

“It was a fairytale. You said it yourself. Real you would know that.”

“We both know what happened.”

He reaches out with his free hand, tracing a finger gently down her cheek. “Always meant to tell you,” he says. “Thought I’d have more time.”

“You can tell me after you get some sleep.

“You’ll be gone.”

“Man, are you in for a surprise.” 

“Don’t go.”

“I’m not going anywhere. I’m here. I’m with you.”

“You knew, right?”

The question catches her off guard. “Yeah. I knew.”

[foreverfangirl2011]

Demons From the Past- Prologue + Chapter 1

Hey Lovelies, 

So here is the prologue and first chapter of the Grayson Story I recently posted about. You’ll notice I changes the name a bit, I just think this flows better. This is just the beginning, theres still a hell of a lot more to come. But I hope you like it. 

Love,

- M

Demons From the Past A Grayson Bailey Dolan Story

Prologue

We all go trough hardships in our lives, bad things happen, its just a part of life. Life wouldn’t be life without these things. But its how we choose to deal with them that define us, not the crap itself. Thats where this story starts. I was just your average teenage girl, going through high school, trying to graduate, boy crazy, my head perpetually in the clouds. Like all girls my age I dreamed of being in love; even though I had no idea what real love was. I met him in freshman year of high school, and were together until graduation. His name, Harrison Waverly. The Waverly’s were a high power family, Edward Waverly, Harrison’s father, was a congressman. And his mother; Vivian Waverly; single handedly ran an international fashion empire. Even his little sister Naidene was a violin protege. Obviously Harrison was under a lot of pressure, his parents wanted him to take political science and follow in his fathers footsteps, but his true passion was sculpting, he was always happiest in his studio. His father , however, would never stand for that, “No son of mine is going to be a nobody playing with mud!” He would say. It didn’t help Harrison’s case that he was so gifted in political science, he couldn’t help it, it was in his blood. I loved him so much though, I always encouraged him to follow his heart. But the pressure from his parents was too great to bear, and he feared if he went against their wishes they would take it out on poor Naidene and make her give up her music (which Harrison knew she loved). So with a heavy heart he closed his studio doors and went to Princeton to study law. Unfortunately I couldn’t afford Princeton, instead, I got a scholarship and went to Northwestern for creative writing (fortunately my parents supported my writing dreams). We broke up after graduation, in our hearts we knew we couldn’t make the long distance thing work. We knew we’d just get to busy and drift apart. Anyway, even though Harrison’s parents loved me, they wanted him fully focused on school so that he was ready to step in when Edward retired. A year later, mid softmore year, fate smiled  upon us (or so I thought). We were both home for Christmas and as soon as we laid eyes on each other we just knew. Neither of us had moved on, he kissed me under the mistletoe and we got back together. Surprisingly we mad it work until graduation, the long distance I mean. After our first year back together he gave me a promise ring, it was a silver infinity ring with diamonds down the middle. It was beautiful, he said it was his promise never to leave me again and by wearing it I was making the promise to stay with him always. I loved it and him so much, I never took the thing off. Our bliss was sadly short lived, I could tell it was all getting to Harrison. He was always stressed out and soon became distant. We had arranged that every 2 weeks one of us would visit the other. But he soon started skipping his weekends. I tried to understand, I mean he was in law after all he must’ve just been busy. Anyhow, after we both graduated we would have loads of time for each other I reasoned. I wasn’t alone through it all though, I had made a great friend, who was also from Jersey, coincidentally. We just never crossed paths back home because we lived on opposite sides of town and attended different schools. He was also in the creative writing program. We met the first day freshman year and were best friends for the four years we spent at school together. His name: Grayson Bailey Dolan (I liked to call him Bailey to annoy him as he kind of hated his middle name ;)). He had a twin brother named Ethan who was our third musketeer. It was always the three of us. That is until Ethan started seeing Alicia, his now girlfriend. Then it was just me and Bailey most of the time. But we didn’t mind. We always had a ball together. He was always there for me, after Harrison and I had a big fight, or if Harrison couldn’t make it out for the weekend and I was down. He was sweet and sensitive and always lent me a shoulder to cry on. If it wasn’t for him I don’t know what would’ve happened to me. Anyway, back to Harrison. After I finished my final exams I decided to fly home early to surprise him. His graduation was first and my exams finished a few days before it. The original plan was he was going to send the jet to pick me up the night before the ceremony. But it had been almost a month since we’s seen each other (exams and all) and I wanted to spend a few extra days with him so I hopped a last minute flight back to Jersey. Grayson dropped me at the airport that day. I remember because we sort of fought about it. He was worried because he knew things had been rocky between me and Harrison. You see Harrison was normally a pretty chill guy. But when he got stressed he drank and when he drank… lets just say you wanna stay out of his way. It was like sober Harrison was Mr. Hyde and drunk Harrison was Dr. Jekyll. On more than one occasion he hurt me; the first time it happened he pushed me down and kicked me a few times in the stomach, leaving behind a few bruises on my torso. Another time he twisted me arm so bad he fractured my wrist. I know what your thinking, why the hell didn't I leave him right? The truth is I don’t really know… I know I should’ve… I know Bailey wanted me to, he was furious when he saw me hurt… but I was just so in love with him… and every time I looked down at my hand and saw the ring I couldn’t bring myself to leave him… my heart was telling me that he needed me, and I couldn’t just abandon him. Little did I know he was the one that was abandoning me… Grayson begged me not to go back and just to end things: “Y/N please, he just going to hurt you again. He needs more help than you can give him, cant you see that?” “Grayson I’m not having this argument again, I hate fighting with you and I don’t want another episode like last night.” I say remembering the ugly fight we had the night before. “But-“ “But nothing, I love him… and I promised I would stay and I cant go back on that promise…” I reply glancing at the ring. “The second he raised a hand to you he lost the right to have you. No man has the right to defile a woman like that, especially a woman as incredible as you…” he says moving a stray hair from my face. “Listen Bailey, I love that you care about me like this and worry about me, but I’ll be fine ok. Besides, he’ll be more calm now that finals are over.” I say taking his hands in mine. “Ok… just promise me one thing…” he says running his fingers over my still bandaged right wrist and the fresh bruises on the left one. “What?” “If he lays a hand on you again you leave for good ok? Don’t let him hurt you again.” He says now hugging me. “Ok, I promise. I’ll take care of myself.” I reply hugging him back. The hug lingers a little longer than it should, but I like it… I like the warmth that comes with his embrace and the smell of his crisp cologne. “Last call for flight 810 to New Jersey” a female voice calls over the intercom. “Ok thats me.” I say finally letting go of him. He kisses my forehead softly and watches me walk off. “Have a safe flight, see you for graduation!” I hear him call before entering the gate. “See you soon Bailey!” I call back, catching one last glimpse of him rolling his eyes before handing the lady my ticket and walking through the gate.

A couple hours later; after watching half of the in flight movie, reading a little and of course face timing Gray; I was in a cab on the way to the Waverly Estate; where Harrison was now living in the guest house (he just needed the space and we needed the privacy; but his parents still wanted him close enough to keep an eye on him). I was giddy, I had never been so excited to see him. We pulled up and the cab driver got out, opened the door for me and got my bags. I paid him before walking around back to the guest house. I noticed a car I wasn’t familiar with in the driveway, but didn’t think much of it. Edward was always having colleges over for meetings so it wasn’t unusual to see the odd car parked in the driveway now and again. When I reached the door to the guest house however, I started to worry. I heard sounds… coming from inside. When I heard a female laugh I thought it must be Naidene, she was in 12th grade now and Harrison sometimes let her and her boyfriend Julian use the guest house so they wouldn’t be caught by Edward or Vivian. I slowly opened the door and tiptoed in. The noises continued and started to get louder. “Dene… is that you?” I whispered knocking on the bedroom door, its not closed all the way and it swings open. I gasp, my hands flying to cover my mouth. Its Harrison with some bleach blonde girl I’ve never see before. “Y/N! What are you doing here? Your not supposed to be back til tomorrow!” Harrison screams pulling the sheets up to cover himself and the girl. “Harrison who is this?” The girl asks “Shut up Kelly!” He screams back. “Harrison how could you? After everything we’ve been through! I stayed I kept my promise! I cant- I just can’t…” I stammer, tears streaming down my cheeks now. I pull the ring he gave me off my finger and leave it on the dresser, turning to leave. “Wait- I can explain!” I take a deep breath and without turning around respond: “I don’t want to hear it, its over. We’re done Harrison.” I pull my sleeve up to expose my bruises, not just to remind Harrison of what he’s done, but to silently warn Kelly what she’s in for. Then I leave. I get a cab back to the airport and call Bailey on the way. I tell him the whole ugly story and without seeing him I can tell he’s probably clenching his fists. I tell him to calm down and not to break any walls. All I need is a little ice cream and a little Adele and I’ll be fine. We pull up to the airport and I’m still on the phone with him. I pay the driver, take my bags and walk inside to try to get a ticket back to Illinois. “Do I need to say I told you so Y/N? You knew this was coming, the way he was distant, I mean how often were you guys actually speaking in the last couple weeks?” “Grayson please I don’t need this right now ok! I know he was a douche, I know he was treating me like trash, but I loved him. And  I thought he loved me. We were together for almost eight years! That means something to me! I mean do you have any idea how painful it is to see the one you love in somebody else arms?” I say breaking down into tears. “I’m sorry.” He replies. I look up and see him standing in front of me, phone to his ear. He locks eyes with me and we both hang up as I run into his arms. He wraps his strong arms around me and sob into his chest. “Shh… its gonna be ok.” He whispers, holding me tight and rubbing my back. Little did I know he knew exactly how I felt when I saw Harrison and Kelly… the same way he felt when he saw me and Harrison… He held me like this for a few moments and then we got our tickets. The flight back was quiet, accept of course for my crying. I kept my head on his shoulder and eventually passed out. As I drifted off to sleep I pondered about this being the last time I saw Harrison… boy was I wrong.

Chapter 1: The First Week We spent the week we had off before our graduation together, mostly in the little apartment I had been living in. It was one of the hardest weeks of my life, but it had a happy ending. Ethan and Alicia spent most of their time at the twins place. The day before the ceremony however, E came over with Alicia and the four of us spent the day together. “Hey you… how you feeling?” Ethan said coming into the living room and seeing me under blankets on the sofa surrounded by tissues and junk food. “A little better I guess…” I say standing to hug him. His hug is sweet, but its not the same as Bailey’s, I couldn’t place why at the time, it just felt different. “Hey Y/N, why don’t you hop in the shower while I clean up here a bit, and then we can watch some movies or something?” Bailey says tapping my shoulder gently. “Are you trying to tell me something Bailey?” I say, letting go of Ethan and turning to face Gray, hand on my hip. “No no, of course not. I just meant-“ “I’m just kidding, I get you. I’ll feel much better after a shower. I’ll be back in a few.” I reply going off to the bathroom.

Bailey’s POV

“Baby, I’m gonna go pick up some ice cream and pizza, break up essentials. I’ll be back soon, let her know when she comes back ok?” Alicia says kissing Ethan and then gesturing to me knowingly as she leaves. Ethan gives her an “I know” look and walks her out before coming back to help me clean. “So, what was that look about?” I ask “What look?” “C’mon E, I’m not an idiot.” “Actually you kinda are.” He says patting my on the shoulder and going to the kitchen to throw away some garbage. “What do you mean?” I reply following him “Dude, you realize if you had told her the way you felt weeks ago she may not be in the mess she is now?” “Yeah, like its really that simple. Its not like if I told her I was in love with her she’d just dump the douche and come running to me. She was with him for almost eight years, you cant just undo that with three words!” “Yeah, but you’ve been involve with her since freshman year! Thats almost half the time she’s been with him! You knew he was pushing her around, she wasn’t safe with him and somewhere deep down I have to believe she knew it. She’s too smart not to have. All she needed was a little push to see it. You could have given her that push.” “Don’t you think I’ve been trying! I’ve been begging her for weeks to dump the ass wipe! She was so in love with him, nothing could change that. She doesn’t feel that way about me, I just have to accept that.” “No you don’t bro. I know you better than I know myself, you’ve never felt this way about any girl before and you probably never will again. That means something. Listen, I see the way she looks at you sometimes, the way your always there for her whenever, wherever. I really believe she notices that too. She loves you, I know it, she just doesn’t know it. She’s hurting right now, she has been for a while. But you can help heal that hurt. And when the pain fades and you tell her how you feel, I guarantee she’ll realize she feels the same way.” “Wow dude… that was deep.” “Well it was true.” “Your right, I’m not giving up on-“ “Your not giving up on what?” Y/N says stepping into the kitchen in her robe whilst ringing her hair out with a towel. I just look at her a second, taken aback. I’m mesmerized by the few tiny water droplets that slowly make their way down her legs. For a brief moment I imagine standing in the shower with her, those beautiful legs wrapped around my waist. Before my fantasy escalates I’m brought back into reality by Ethan nudging me. “Earth to Bailey? Where’d you just go?” She asks again. “Oh uh nowhere, I was saying I’m not giving up on… finding the vacuum, where’d you put that thing again?” I nervously stammer. “The hall closet, but you don’t have to worry about that, I can do it after I get dressed.” “Oh no, its my pleasure, I- I mean I don’t mind.” “You’re really to sweet to me Bailey, thanks again.” She replies giving me a peck on the cheek before going back to her room to get dressed. “Be right out!” She calls from her room. “Thank god your not giving up on the vacuum bro!” Ethan jokes once she’s out of sight. “Oh shut up.” I say smacking him on the head and going to get the vacuum.

Y/N’s POV

I go through my drawers trying to find something comfortable to wallow in. I’m rummaging through my shirt drawer and I keep pulling out the Princeton t-shirts Harrison’s been sending me. Frustrated I almost give up before suddenly pulling out one of Bailey’s lacrosse t shirts.  Its purple with the words “NORTHWESTERN LACROSSE” written in block letters and the lacrosse logo below it. Hm, I must’ve borrowed this and forgotten to give it back. I slip it on over my black leggings and bra. Oh its really soft and it still smells like him I think smiling. I decide to keep it on, as its the only thing that’s made me smile the past three days (besides of course Bailey himself). I stroll out into the living room and find the twins chilling on the couch. “Guys the place looks great, thanks so much.” I say walking up to the sofa and rubbing Grayson’s shoulder appreciatively. “No prob, uh Alicia went to get break up essentials.” Ethan says without looking away from his phone.       “Pizza and ice cream?” “Yep.” I walk around to the front of the couch and sit next to Bailey resting my head on his shoulder. “Is that my shirt?” He asks “Oh, yeah I found it in my drawer, I hope its ok that I wear it. The only other clean t shirts I have right now are the bloody ten thousand Princeton shirts Harrison sent me.” “Its cool… do you… do you even remember when you “borrowed it” by the way?” “Not really actually, why the air quotes around “borrow it?”” “Well… because technically you didn’t really borrow it…” he says looking away. “What do you mean?” “Yeah bro, what are you talking about?” Ethan chimes in, now looking up from his phone. “Are you sure you want Ethan hearing this story Y/N?” “How bad is it?” “You know its not your fault, you were really drunk-“ “Oh god, what the hell did I do?” “Well, it was a party that the lacrosse team threw, and Harrison had just told you he wasn’t going to make it here for the weekend… again… and you were understandably pissed and you drank a lot… you were totally wasted and you got up on a table and started dancing… and kind of ripped your shirt off…” “Oh my god! I cant believe I did that! I have no memory of that!” “As soon as you did it I grabbed you off the table and took you to our apartment. Ethan stayed the night at Alicia’s so he wasn’t there. You passed out in my car on the way there, after protesting with me to let you stay at the party. I carried you into my room, placed you on the bed, and had Cameron come over and help clean you up. Then I put one of my t shirts on you and drove you back here.” “And you did all this whilst I was unconscious?” “Yeah, you pretty much slept through all of it.” “So you saw me in my underwear and didn’t tell me?” “Just your bra… you kept your shorts on. I’m sorry if your creeped out… I just wanted to make sure you were ok… and the next day you didn't remember anything, so I though I’d save you the embarrassment and not tell you…” “Creeped out? How could I be creeped out, that is the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me! I mean Harrison never did anything like that.” “Grayson how come you didn't tell me about this?” Ethan asks “Because I couldn’t risk anyone blabbing to her, I made all the guys at the party swear not to say anything either.” “Thank you Bailey, just thank you…” I say wrapping my arms around him. “Your welcome, you can keep the shirt by the way.” Soon Alicia came back with the food and we watched movies together all day. It really was exactly what I needed. After I a few hours I could tell Ethan and Alicia really wanted to leave. For the past twenty minutes they were teasing each other and Ethan now sat with a pillow over his lap. “Its ok really E, you guys have been here all day. Besides I have my Bailey. I won’t be alone.” I say putting my arm around Grayson. “Are you sure babe?” Alicia asks “Positive, you guys go have some alone time.” I say winking at Ethan. “See you later Y/N.” Alicia says hugging me and heading to the door. “God bless you Y/N” Ethan whispers hugging me before following Alicia out. “I apologize for him.” Gray says after they leave. “Its ok, I get it. So its just me and you then Bai- I mean Grayson.” I say grazing his arm. “You know if it really bothers you I’ll stop calling you Bailey…” “I don’t mind, I kinda like that your the only one that calls me that…” he replies locking eyes with me. “Thank you… really for everything.” “Don’t mention it.” I lay my head on his shoulder as he plays the next movie. I’m gonna be ok… I think drifting off.

[otagamerkorin]

A place to belong

My (late) gift for @rotatinghumancircus‘s 2017 OHC Gift Exchange for the lovely @221bcecil! (For some reason it won’t let me @ you.)

You asked for fluffy Julian/John stuff, so I hope you don’t mind me dropping this 17,000 word (feel filled) monstrosity on ya. Apologies for the lateness!

Bonus cameo from @rotatinghumancircus‘s OC Melody!

I hope you like it!

(You can also read it over on AO3 here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/13150632)

(On a side note, for inspiration I used @creepyknees's designs for Julian, John and Laticia and @sketchyhandrawn's Jacques.)

John Cameron’s house has many beds.

Some had been there since the very beginning, whilst others had appeared over time. Leticia’s was one of the former. She’d been John’s confidant and friend for so many years he’d quite forgotten the number. They’d been a pair since back before he owned the house, before he was even the host of the Circus. All the way back to the time when he’d been a stage performer and she a mere stage tech, they’d been practically glued at the hip. Where one went, the other followed. So when he’d struck it big, it was no surprise that she quickly had her own bit of space on his ever growing property. Leticia’s bed was always as neat and well maintained as the room it resided in, the sheets pulled taut and tucked after each use, the blankets and pillows orderly.

As time went on, John slowly came to find that this was not the case with all the sleeping arrangements he acquired.

Jacques bed was always in disarray, the blankets and sheets tugged loose to form a sort of cocoon in the mattresses’ center. Try as the host might to keep it in some semblance of order, his handiwork always seemed to be undone the instant he turned his back, whether the brash stage hand had visited or not.

Pierre and François were a bit of a mix. The two beds shared a room and were kept reasonably tidy, with the occasional wayward pillow or ruffled comforter, but somehow constantly ended up shoved up against each other. No one was entirely sure what that meant, whether the two were together, just got cold easily, or were simply touch-starved (lord knows everyone at the circus seemed to be) and doing some platonic cuddling, but the others seemed to have a silent agreement to let sleeping dogs lie and thus it stayed a mystery.

John Cameron’s house had many beds and many visitors.

But he still got lonely sometimes.

He awoke one morning to the soft sunlight streaming through his window and lay there blinking drowsily at the ceiling. Something seemed off, and it took a bit for his sleep addled mind to clear enough to realize what. The house was silent. No snoring from the surrounding rooms, creak of people walking around or clattering from the distant kitchen.

Suddenly feeling even more exhausted than he’d been pre-sleep, the host gave a sigh, rubbed a hand over his eyes. After a moment he finally clambered out of bed, snatching up his robe and padding out into the hallway. The house, which was really more of a mansion at this point, was really more often full than empty these days, so the stillness simply felt...wrong.

He made his way through the silence to the spacious kitchen, bare footfalls echoing loudly with each step. Setting the coffee to brew, he leaned against the counter and gazed out tall windows at the sunrise in the distance. Looking out over the city from his perch amongst the hills, he could just see the spire of his beloved tower in the distance. At the sight he felt some of the heaviness in the air fade, a small smile stretching across his face as he fetched his drink and returned to the window. John was an easily troubled man, yet the mere thought of the ballroom always proved capable of easing his spirits (even if the things that happened in the ballroom tended to make his blood pressure skyrocket.) Yet even the memories of his cherished work couldn’t entirely keep away his misplaced anxiety as he continued on with his morning, and so as he stood before his front door, posed to leave, his frame was ridged with tension.

“Stop acting like a child John.” The host muttered to himself, brushing his clothes down nervously.

“You’re the host of the Orbiting Human Circus, for gods sake! If you let a touch of...something ruffle you so badly, it’s a wonder the show didn’t go up in flames ages ago.”

Taking a deep breath and squaring his shoulders, he opened the door and made his way down the path to his car.

“We just need to push through this...like we always do.”

*

For how shakily the morning had begun, the work day seemed to be going off without a hitch. The performances were nearly arranged, the set was finished, there wasn’t a single animal on the loose and as of yet no janitors related mishaps. As the sun set, the show began and he found himself slipping into the familiar routine, practically exuding charm and class despite the knot of stress still sitting in his stomach.

“Now ladies and gentlemen, we’ve arrived at our last guest of the evening. I take great pleasure in introducing our act; the monsieur’s Géroux and their amazing acrobatic hounds!”

A spotlight flared to life as John threw a hand out towards the edge of the stage, smiling invitingly as the performers filtered onto stage with him. A few words of greeting then he was quietly slipping away as the music started and they leapt into position. As he entered the cool darkness of the backstage he let his stage persona slip a bit, smile faltering with a little sigh of relief as he swiped the sweat from his forehead with a handkerchief. Bright stage lights and a close fitting suit weren’t always the best combination.

As he made a beeline for his chair, a movement caught his eye and he paused. In the shadows near the curtain there was a figure with a broom, quietly sweeping. Every so often they would look up and out onto the stage with an excited little smile. Feeling a soft smile of his own grow on his face, the host turned and made his way over, coming to a stop just behind the young man.

“Having a good evening Julian? I haven’t seen you around today.” He quietly asked. The young man gave a quiet squeak of a cry and whirled around, fumbling his broom in the process. John caught it before it could hit the ground and watched as the boy flailed a bit, hands seeming unsure what do with themselves.

“A-Ah, Mr. Cameron! I didn’t realize you were there!”

The older man gave a chuckle at the boys panic, waving a hand to calm him as he handed back the broom.

“No, my apologies Julian. I didn’t mean to startle you.”

At that the janitor relaxed and gave the host a wide warm smile.

“It’s no problem Mr. Cameron. I was just distracted by the show. It’s so wonderful this evening!”

The two turned to watch as the two performers and their canines twirled and flipped around each other

“That it is Julian. Must say, my mysterious act finder certainly came through this time.” He replied, lowering his voice at the last bit and leaning sideways closer to the younger man. Unseen by the host, Julian buried his face giddily into the cowl neck of his sweater, grinning happily. He’d found the troupe practicing during one of his many nightly walks in the nearby park and had kept the business card they’d given him on hand just for cases like this.

“Let’s just pray they never run out of material. Sure, the crew could probably pull something together, but I’d just be sitting around like some sad lump the whole time...Makes me wonder why you all even need me at all.”

His expression became melancholy for a moment and Julian gasped, softly grabbing the man’s arm.

“Oh Mr. Cameron! Don’t say that!” He quietly cried.

“Sure, Leticia and Jacque and everyone are really important, but you’re the voice of the circus! Without you, the show wouldn’t have that spark that everybody loves! You make it special.”

It seemed to take a moment for the young man’s words to sink in, but when they did it was as though the host transformed. His shoulders straightened proudly, smile growing wide and honest and eyes twinkling kindly as he looked down at him. He reached out and gently clasped the boy on the shoulder, his hand warm and comforting.

“Perhaps you’re right Julian. Thank you for the sentiment. I truly appreciate it.”

The young man smiled in return and looked away bashfully, releasing the man’s sleeve. It wasn’t an expression that that showed up on the host’s face very often, which was certainly a shame. It looked very good on him if you were to ask the janitor...

“Please shut up.” Julian muttered under his breath and John turned back to him, eyebrow cocked.

“Hmm, did you say something?”

“Ah, nothing at all!”

The music over the speakers suddenly thundered to a stop and applause erupted from beyond the curtain. John seemed to pop back into movement once more, quickly straightening his jacket and smoothing his hair, throwing a sideways smile at Julian.

“That’s my que!”

As the host strode out onto stage he felt more energized that he had all night, his worries suddenly forgotten as his dazzling grin slid back into place.

“The monsieur’s Géroux everyone! Weren’t they great!?” He asked, sweeping an arm out as the men and their dogs took a bow. The host suddenly felt brimming with energy, practically exuding pep and excitement

The crowd gave another round of applause as the group exited, quieting when John settled near the center of the stage, hands folded behind his back.

“Now, dear audience, the night has grown late, and our show is almost done.”

He quickly stole a peek towards where Leticia stood offstage. She glanced at something just out of eyeline and gave him the thumbs up. He gave her a tiny nod then addressed the audience once more.

“But of course, we couldn’t leave you without the main act, now could we?”

Smiling once more toward the backstage, he gave a soft call.

“Julian?”

The janitor emerged from beyond the curtain, singlehandedly pushing the tape machine. As they’d discovered, there was quite a lot of strength hidden in that skinny frame and the young man didn’t even seem to be breaking a sweat as he pushed the contraption to center stage, smiling shyly at the audience as he went.

After the...incident, the crew had made a point of trying various ways to include Julian amongst their number. One such way was allowing him to present the presentation. He already knew how to operate the machine, so it had only been a matter of coaching him on ques and timing. Settling the contraption in place, he took his place between John and player.

“Now, ladies and gentlemen, we present tonight’s feature presentation.”

He nodded to the boy and with a flick of the switch the tape spun to life.

As they all settled in to listen to the tale unfold, he could help but feel his gaze pulled toward the man next to him. The janitor was watching the machine with rapture, sporting the same excited expression he’d worn earlier that night. John felt a warmth settle in his chest at the sight. To find someone as purely fascinated with the magic of the show itself, rather than the wealth and fame it brought with it, was a rare occurrence. And yet he’d never noticed. Before, his opinion of the janitor had been a negative one. He’d viewed him first as a nuisance, a mere annoyance and distraction, then later as a threat once things had begun to hit the fan. True, he’d had his occasional moment of kindness and sympathy towards the individual, but for the most part he’d pushed him away.

And then there was the...incident. It’d felt as though a cornerstone had been pulled from the foundation of the show, all of them suddenly left starring at a gaping void they’d never realized had been filled before. They’d been left to watch as everything crumbled around them while a person they’d never made the effort to know clung to life miles away. And John had hated himself, hated all the mistakes he’d ever made regarding him, all the wrongs he’d committed to the younger man.

Then he was back, leading the very creature that could save them. And they’d clung to him like a young child to their stuffed animal, only now recognizing him as the thing holding them all together.

In the following days, John finally began to take notice of the things he’d seemed to ignore before. The shocking cold of the janitor’s room as he went to fetch the saws for a performance, the stiffness the younger seemed to walk with some days that John immediately recognized as from sleeping on something uncomfortable, the fact he never seemed to see the boy eat. A heater was installed in the closet (to protect the equipment from cold damage), the tiny cot replaced with a proper twin size (after Jacque ‘accidentally’ broke a leg off the former), a surplus of take-out and various other food frequently beginning to appear in the cafeteria (supposedly for the cast, yet none of the others dare touch it till some had been taken.) He’d even tried getting the president to give the boy a good raise, or at least a decent living space, but the fool just didn’t seem to get just. how. important. the janitor was to them, and refused. Of course, the younger man was kept intentionally oblivious to this. He had a surprising amount of pride as they’d learned and likely was too humble to take the help if offered outright. Still, they tried their best, doing their damndest to make up for lost time.

It was when he’d accidentally walked in on the boy once again in the staff showers (Leticia having of course re-instated his privileges to that and all other parts of the tower shortly after his return) that it finally hit him.

He’d been out of coffee that morning and in his sleepy daze hadn’t noticed the sound of running water as he entered to dampen a cloth for his oncoming headache. It wasn’t till a burst of steam blasted him in the face a few feet in the door that he actually looked up and took notice of his surroundings. The first thing he’d noticed was the running shower head and the next was the thin figure standing beneath it. The click of the door swinging closing behind him drew the other man’s attention and he looked over, both freezing when their gazes met. Luckily the janitor-no, Julian. This was Julian to him now, not some mere worker- was partially hidden behind a low wall from this angle, but he still got more than a good look at him from the hips up.

The younger man’s curly hair had been relaxed by the heat of the water, the loose ringlets spilling down his neck and face, wide eyes staring out at him from behind them. The air was scented vanilla from the suds in his locks. (The collection of bathing supplies sitting nearby had been promptly shoved into the closet by Leticia after a falling bucket of oil had soaked him a few weeks earlier.) His skin was pale (always had been, even if it had been made worse by his now mostly nocturnal lifestyle, not that John would know that) and smooth, glistening slightly under the lights above. For once shed of his baggy clothes, John could finally see just how thin he was, not emaciated thank god, but enough so that ribs pressed gently beneath the skin as he shifted and hips formed a sharp v. It was as his gaze trailed over the younger man that he saw them. Four thick jagged lines stretching horizontally from shoulder to hip, still barley just healed and an angry pink. His heart dropped. There could be only one thing that could be from. And it was his fault. His fault, his fault...

Julian’s little squeak of panic is what snapped the world back into motion and, now realizing that he was standing there staring at a very wet, very naked young man, the host’s face flared red and he whipped around on his heel, shouting an apology as he fled. He didn’t stop running until the door of his dressing room slammed shut behind him. He took a moment to pause, breathing heavily, before collapsing onto the nearby couch and letting out a muffled scream into his hands. How did he get into these situations? After a few minutes he had calmed enough to remove his hands and slumped backwards with a sigh, mind running over the events. God, he really needed to learn to knock. His thought drifted back to the scars and he frowned. If only he hadn’t been such an overdramatic fool, he wouldn’t have needed saving.

The man blinked, mind backtracking a bit. Saved. He’d been saved. Somehow he’d never really thought about it much before, just its consequences, but it was true. Julian had saved him.

He sat up, staring at the ground with a confused expression as he thought. But why? Why had the young man saved him? True, the boy had been a fan of sorts towards him, but after everything he’d done, how cruel he’d been, what could possibly have pushed him to risk his own life to protect John’s?

Unless he just... cared. Cared more than any of them knew.

There had been so many signs and he’d just... never noticed. All the times the boy had noticed Jacque begin to shake from stress and helped him sneak out for smoke breaks (ha, as though they didn’t notice). All the times cups of coffee or tea would mysteriously appear when Leticia was at the end of her rope. The leaps and bounds beyond normal kindness he went for John himself. He didn’t just care about the show. He cared about them.

John felt warmth flood through him, a wide smile spreading across him face. Lord, this boy was the blessing none of them deserved. And yet here they were, with an angel in human disguise amongst their ranks.

Reaching up to remove the towel that still hung around his neck, the host suddenly became aware of how heavily his heart was pounding. The warmth permeating him seemed heavily focused there as well. Odd. Last time he felt like this he’d been young and in...Something seemed to click and the man flushed to the tip of his ears. Oh. Oh god. Oh god.  

Leticia found him later, still red as a tomato, pondering how the hell he’d ended up like this and halfway through a bottle of wine.

That, uh, that had been an interesting night for the show.

A small nudge to his hand pulled him back from his ponderings and he looked over to see Julian glancing over at him with a curious look. He gave the younger man a smile and he brightened, turning back to the tape player. John must have been spacing out much longer than he’d though, for soon the story ended and the audience gave their applause. The host nodded to Julian then strode to the edge of the stage as the janitor wheeled the contraption away.

“Now, my dear ladies and gentlemen, we have reached the end of our show. I wish you all sweet dreams and hope that you join us again tomorrow. Goodnight.”

He took a bow as they gave a standing ovation then exited with a wave, the backstage already a buzz of activity as they prepared for tear down. Instinctively his gaze flickered about, taking stock of his crew. For a moment he was worried when he couldn’t find a familiar beanie amongst the crowd, but his emotions stilled when he saw a flicker of movement near the Orkestral’s cage. Mind back on track, he make a beeline for his dressing room. He had a schedule to work out for tomorrow.

By the time he finished the others had already mostly left and he found himself following their lead. As he settled into his car, John suddenly realized the weight in his gut was gone. In fact, now that he thought about it, it had been gone since he talked to...

The man felt himself flush a bit and smile warmly in spite of himself.

The drive home was a quiet one. The streets tended to be fairly empty this late at night most days anyway, and the snowfall from earlier that day seemed to have driven the last few stragglers back into their warm homes. Calm jazz drifted from his radio, filling the quiet cabin the vehicle, and he was half-tempted to roll down the windows and allow it to pour into the silence outside. However, the host preferred his nose stay un-nipped, so he was content to simply drive along in peace.

When he finally reached home and made his way inside, he became aware of the change in atmosphere. It was still as a tomb and whereas the silence outside had been comforting this was just somber and empty. He felt his mood drop once more, suddenly aware of how alone he was. He tilted his head as he gazed around at his surroundings, almost seeming to question the house itself. There had to be something he could do about this.

A thought flashed through his mind and it was as though a light had gone off over his head. Struck with inspiration, the man straightened with a smile and set off into the house, moving with purpose.

If the house was empty, then he’d just need to fill it.

*

“Everyone! Everyone, can I have your attention please?”

Activity across the stage stilled as they all turned towards the voice, finding their host standing stage center. Once he was sure they were listening, the man folded his hands behind him with a smile, gaze flickering over them as he addressed the gathered crowd.

“Now, as you all know, tomorrow is Christmas Eve. It’s been a long an hectic year, and yet we’ve managed to make out way through it.”

“Barely!” Jacque called from somewhere in the wings and John shook his head as laughter rippled through the gathered cast.

“So, as thanks for all your hard work, tomorrow night I will be holding a grand party for you all at my estate!”

Excited chattering broke out through the crowd and he waved his hands to once more catch their attention even as they talked amongst themselves.

“Attendance no way mandatory of course. I know this is quite late notice and many of you likely already have your own plans. But all of you, each and every member of the cast, are more than welcome to drop in if you’re able.”

Julian’s face dropped a bit at the words, heart suddenly uncertain. Surely he didn’t think he wouldn’t be counted?

“But I’m not part of the show. I don’t even work for them.” He quietly argued back to the voice in his head.

“I’m just...I’m just the janitor...”

He trailed off, eyes downcast as the host continued onstage.

Oh Julian...

“If you are able to join us, all I ask is that you dress well. This will be a semi-formal event after all. Now then, the show waits for no one! Let us continue our preparations! Ah, Leticia, could you join me for a moment?”

The woman left the other stage hands to their work and made her way to the host, the man quickly herding her out of earshot.

“Tish, could you do me a favor?”

The Parisian raised an eyebrow, gaze one of deadpan suspicion.

“Does it involve smuggling alcohol in here?”

Wait, wh-wha-? No!” The man stuttered, stumbling over his words and she grinned a tad.

“Oui John. What do you need?”

“Tomorrow, could you drop by the tower and make sure Julian...?”

He too trailed off, making a sort of ‘you know?’ gesture and she nodded. They’d both caught of the look on the janitor’s face earlier. Obviously, despite their best efforts, the fact that they all truly considered the young man a part of the show hadn’t really sunk in for said man yet.

“He truly doesn’t get it...” She muttered, both glancing off in the young man’s direction. They watched as he went back to his sweeping, movements slow and somber, and eventually disappeared back behind the curtains.

“Which is exactly why we need him to be at that party.” John replied with a firm hand on her shoulder.

“Just please, make sure he’s wearing something, anything, nice. It could be a ballgown for all I care.” He continued and she snickered.

“Oh you only wish.”

He flushed deeply at the thought and shoved her off towards the backstage.

“Oh, just get to work!”

The woman let out a peal of laughter as she darted away and the host gave a sigh, shaking his head with a small smile.

“These people will be the death of me...”

*

If John was the voice of the Circus and Julian the heart, then Leticia was the backbone. And as thus, she’d become accustomed to the life of an early riser.

The sun was barely over the horizon when she sat up in bed and stretched, spine giving a satisfying pop. She leaned over to give her girlfriend a kiss, the other woman making a sleepy noise and stealing the blanket, before slipping out of bed. There were things to do and places to be today.

She was prepped, dressed and out of the house before the rest of the city had even gotten to its coffee. All the better, these roads could be hell on a normal winter day, let alone Christmas Eve. Ever the strategist, she planned to get as much of her last-minute shopping done before the crowds could hit as possible.

Just as she fired up her car and moved to turn towards the retail area of the city, the familiar shape of the tower flickered in her peripheral. She paused to look at it, the gears turning in her head. A thought surfaced and slowly she smiled, pulling the wheel around towards the structure. A little bit of company couldn’t hurt.

She let herself in, waving to one of the security guards, and made a beeline for the elevator. She might be in a chipper mood, but there was no way she was climbing that many stairs this morning.

As she drew up beside the small closet door, she paused for a moment. Julian always seemed to have a perpetual tiredness hanging around him. No one really knew how much sleep the young man got, other than they few times they’d found him passed out in random corners (and an air vent that one time). Should she really be waking him this early? She gnawed her lip for a moment before firming her stance. No, if she was going to do this she needed to do it now. They still had a few days off after this, he could always sleep then. With a decisive nod, she reached out and rapped on the door with a soft call.

“Juliea? Are you in there?”

There was a long stretch of silence before she heard shuffling from within and the door creaked open. A familiar face peeked out around it, wiping the sleep from its eyes. She felt a stab of guilt, but smiled as he saw her and tried to speak around his yawn.

“Leticia? What are you doing here? Don’t you have today off?”

“Oh, oui. I just have some business in town. I just stopped by to ask if you’d like to accompany me. I know you don’t get to go out on the town very often.”

He blinked at her sleepily as he processed the information before giving her a smile.

“I’d love to help.”

“Perfect. Ah, also, are you planning on attending John’s party this evening? I could drive us both.”

At her question his face fell, gaze sadly looking down at the ground.

“I...I don’t think so. It’s...not really my thing...”

“Oh, come now. I insist. No one holds a better celebration this time of year than John.” She pushed, and his face sobered even further.

“But...it’s just for members of the show, right? I don’t think I’d be welcome...” He replied and she sighed. Right to the point it seemed. Stepping closer, she grabbed him by the shoulders and leaned in close, the young man sucking in a breath as she got right up in his face.

“Julian, listen to me. I don’t care what you think. You are a part of this show. You always have been and always will be. We were just too thick headed to notice. So you are coming to this party.”

He stared at her for a long moment, then rapidly blinked a few times, eyes growing glassy as he spoke, voice cracking just a tiny bit.

“Okay...”

“Good.” She replied with a firm nod, releasing him and turning away.

“Now, pull out your best for later and get ready. I’ll be back in a moment.”

Leaving the boy to his own devices, she made her way to the cafeteria. It was one of the few places in the building that never actually closed, what with the constant cycle of guards going in and out of the place. Mercifully, the coffee machine had already been fired up and she made quick work of procuring two cups. She sipped at one, black as sin, just the way she liked it, while she loaded the other with milk and a generous dose of honey. Drinks secured, she made her way back. The closet door was ajar when she arrived and she peeked inside. Julian was rising to his feet beside a chest in the corner, one of said containers contents gently unfurling in his grip as he stood. Sensing it was safe to enter, she nudged the door open with her shoulder and walked in.

“Julian, I got you-“

As light poured in through the open door and she got a better look at the object, the stage manager froze.

She honestly wasn’t sure what he was holding. It was probably a suit, but looked at least a few sizes too big and made of an ugly greyish brown fabric. Certainly not something suitable for tonight’s party. In fact, she was fairly certain John might have a heart attack if the janitor showed up wearing that. And not the good sort.

“Er, Julian? What is that?” She asked, trying to sound casual, and the boy turned to her with a slightly confused look.

“It-It’s my suit?” He replied, seeming puzzled and she bit her lip.

“Is that...all the formal wear you have?” She tried gingerly and he glanced back at the chest for a moment, as though a tux would have appeared in the time he’d looked away.

“Um, yes?” He quietly replied, wincing a bit at her grimace.

“Is...is it really that bad?” He hesitantly asked, and the woman swapped the cups to one arm as she rubbed the back of her neck.

“No, just...out of fashion.” She replied and the silence was nearly smothering as he stared at her. Finally she gave a sigh, tiredly running a hand over her face.

“Alright, no, it is hideous. Luckily, we are in Paris. This shouldn’t be hard to fix.”

The young man gave her a startled look of confusion as she grabbed his arm, giving him just enough time to grab his jacket before she was dragging him out the door.

“L-Leticia?! What did you mean? Where are we going?”

“I’ll tell you later.”

She ignored his questions, simply leading the way out of the building, then more or less shoving the poor befuddled boy into her car once they reached it. He finally fell quiet once he realized she wasn’t planning to answer anytime soon and turned to observe the city rolling by outside. After a few minutes of silence, Leticia glanced over to check on him, her eyes meeting an adorable sight. The young man was practically flattened against the window, eyes wide with wonder as he stared out at the city around them, seemingly dazzled by the early morning light on the snow.

“Well, you seem to be enjoying yourself.” She chuckled and he looked over at her with a bashful smile.

“Ah, sorry, it’s just so beautiful out.”

“It is no problem. This really is a beautiful city. Have you not seen it during winter before?” She asked and he burrowed into his sweater sheepishly.

“N-No, not really. It’s usually too cold this time of year for me to go far, so I never really been this far in.”

“Well then, I’ll take the scenic route.” The stage manager replied and the boys smile grew.

“Thank you Lat-“

He was cut off by a loud grumble and hugged his stomach, flushing in embarrassment. The woman merely chuckled though, eyes scanning the streets in front of them.

“It is rather early, isn’t it? Let’s find something to eat, shall we?”

With the same efficient she brought to work every day, Leticia swiftly located an open café for them, parking the car and dragging her shy companion in with her out of the cold. She could see Julian fidgeting nervously behind her as she spoke to the hostess and requested a table out of the way, the two eventually finding themselves tucked away in the corner beside a window. As she folded her coat over her chair, Leticia watched the janitor. He was looking around the cozy shop with an equal mixture of excitement and anxiety, and it was clear he wasn’t used to being around so many people. She almost feared how he’d react once the holiday crowds hit. Well, they’d simply have to cross that bridge when they found it.

“Good morning, can I get you two some drinks?”

Julian jumped a little as the waitress appeared beside them, smiling and laying a pair of menus down in front of them.

“Ah, j-just a water please.” He replied and Leticia gave a little chuckle, ordering a juice. Despite her worries, there was something refreshing about Julian’s reactions of discover about the world as he encountered it. The young woman quickly returned with their drinks and pulled a pen from her pocket, clicking it and readying her notepad.

“Do you know what you’d like?” She asked, turning to Julian and the boy once again withered under her friendly gaze.

“Oh, I’m not feeling very hungry right now. Thank you anyway.” He hurriedly replied and Leticia rolled her eyes. This boy...

“And you miss?”

“Two breakfast platters.” The stage manager replied, glancing over at Julian for a moment and giving the waitress a meaningful look. The young woman seemed to get the message and subtly winked as she wrote the order down.

“Thank you! Your food should be out shortly.”

She nodded and turned back to her companion, striking up casual conversation to keep him distracted. At first it was simple things, like favorite colors and such, but soon it involved into something far more interesting. Despite the fact that he’d lived in the tower for lord knows how long, it had never really occurred to Leticia how many little inside facts Julian actually knew about the show, beyond even her own knowledge. As it turns out, no one knew where the singing saws had originally come from. Apparently Julian himself had found them in an old dusty portion of the prop wing and cleaned them up. It wasn’t till after during one of his many pre-show walks that John had heard them playing for the janitor and though of incorporating them into the show.

The young man was halfway through recounting his first encounter with the Orkestral when the waitress reappeared, hoisting two large platters atop her tray. She swiftly plunked them down before the two and shot them a smile.

“Here you go, two breakfast platters! Please enjoy! Oh, and just let me know if you need anything.” She chirped before making a hasty retreat as another group came through he doors.

As Leticia untied her silverware, she watched for the janitor’s reaction. It was one of confusion certainly, his head cocked at the food as he wondered why it had been set in front of him. The answer suddenly seemed to hit him and he glanced up at the woman across from him.

“Wait, did you get this for...Oh! Oh, it’s alright, I’m really not-“ He was cut off as the stage manager swiftly stabbed a piece of egg and stuffed it into his mouth, giving him a look that said to just try and fight her on this. He blinked a few times and swallowed, before timidly picking up his own cutlery and digging in.

The rest of their meal with quiet, but by the end Leticia could see how just the simply addition to his diet had seemed to re-energize him. The young man’s eyes seemed brighter and more alert, his movements wider and less hesitant. He gave her a quiet word of thanks and a smile as she paid and they set out once more. If anything, he seemed more obsessed with his surroundings than he had been before and she found herself answering a barrage of questions as he pointed out various sights and asked about them. By the time they reached the shopping district, Leticia was feeling about ready for another cup of coffee. Finally finding a parking spot, she stopped the car and stepped out, pulling her coat tighter against the wind.

“Alright Julian, we’re here.”

The janitor glanced over at the storefront and went still, eyes wide. Even for someone relatively new to the wonders of the city, he recognized the name Le Bon Marché. Suddenly self-conscious, he glanced down at his own worn clothes and then back up at the stage manager in worry.

“Um, Latica? Are you sure I can...well, you know. I’m not exactly the most stylish. Maybe I should just stay here...”

“Oh no you don’t.” She replied, swiftly moving around to the cars other side and pulling the young man to his feet.

“I had to carry you down every stair in the tower. You can carry a few bags. Now let’s go. Dépêchons-nous.”

Julian gave a worried noise, but obeyed her command regardless as she started for the doors.

Once they were inside, she made a beeline for the men’s department, the janitor following her like a lost puppy. She paused to fish through a rack, casting a question to the boy behind her as she scanned over the clothes.

“Julian, what size are you?”

“W-What?” He stuttered, startled by her sudden attention and she glanced back at him with a no-nonsense expression.

“What size.”

The boy swallowed nervously, rattling off a few numbers and she nodded, going back to her search. The poor man trailing cluelessly behind her, she wove through the racks and shelves, stopping occasionally to whisk something into her arms. Finally she slowed, glancing down at her haul and nodded once more in satisfaction, before quickly rounding on Julian. The young man jumped a tad as she abruptly shoved the clothing into his arms and began to steer him towards a dressing room.

“Alright, that should be a good starting point. Go try those on.” She commanded and the janitor’s jaw dropped open as he finally realized what was happening.

“Wha-?! Oh, no! Leticia I can’t take thi-!” He began to argue, quickly clamming up as she gave a huff and rolled her eyes.

“Oh would you stop being so humble for once? Just think of them as an early gift. Now. Go. Change.” She replied, giving him another push and the boy’s mouth curled up into a little smile.

She parked herself across from the door like some sort of guard as Julian disappeared into one of the dressing rooms, patiently waiting as she listened to the quiet rustling and shuffling from outside. Few people appeared to be in the store at the moment, with it being early in the day, but she still glared at anyone who wandered in, easily scaring them off without a word. Eventually she heard the lock on the door click and the janitor peeked out around it with a hesitant expression.

“Come on out Julian. Let me get a good look.” She softly requested and he held his breath as he shyly stepped out of hiding. As the lights hit him, a smile broke across her face.

He’d chosen a light smoke colored dress shirt and darker waistcoat, a pair of golden suspenders stretched over his shoulders. Finally in something that actually fit his thin frame, he looked great. Hell, even more than good.

Still, there was something missing.

“Not bad.” The woman praised him, and the young man relaxed with a sigh.

“Now, let’s see what else you’ve got.”

The next few hours swept by in a blur, the stage manager giving the thumbs up for certain items and vetoing others. The dressing room would have been better off having a revolving door at the rate she had him changing, only abandoning her post occasionally to go snatch up a different size or color.

“Alright Julian, what have you got for me next?” She called out, leaning on the stack of ‘keeps’ that had assembled beside her.

“One second! Darn laces...” He chirped back, his shadow swaying beneath the door as he knelt. Finally it shifted again and with a click the door swing open.

If Leticia’s grin had been wide before, now it was head-splitting.

He was dressed in slender slacks and a pair of Oxfords shined to a mirror like gleam, hanging tight to his legs and accenting their slenderness. The main event however was the sweater he wore. It sported an intricate cable knit, the sleeves hanging comfortable loose before narrowing at the cuffs and a thick cowl neckline draped around his throat. The fabric was fine and a rich burnt orange hue, shimmering the tiniest bit in the light.  Whatever it was, it looked regal and clearly expensive. Not that that mattered. Hell, it could have been made of cashmere for all she cared, she was buying it. Because for the first time in their entire little fashion show, the boy looked completely comfortable in his own skin. At her expression he turned to look in the nearby mirror and lit up when he saw his reflection.

“Perfect.” Leticia declared, giving a definitive little clap of her hands as she stood.

“Now, let’s get all this bundled up and get on our way. The day is young and there’s still plenty to do.”

Julian seemed a bit sad to relinquish the outfit to her, but quickly brightened up when she pressed the tower of ‘gifts’ into his arms. His smile made her chest warm and suddenly the world seemed so much more wonderful as they stepped from the dressing room.

The feeling didn’t last long.

The instant they exited the secluded alcove, the wall of noise hit them and the two blinked in shocked unison, looking out over the veritable sea of people. Craning to see, Leticia spotted a clock nearby and gave a quiet curse. They’d just hit the stores normal morning rush, a phenomenon that was only intensified by the date. Taking a deep breathe to summon her courage, the woman gave a wave for the young man to follow and began stalking along the floods edge. Her sharp eyes quickly spotted a thinning spot amongst the rush and she darted for it, Julian nervously stumbling along behind her. Before they could hit the other side however, the crowd seemed to whip itself into a frenzy, and they found themselves in the center of the storm. Suddenly they were being thrown this way and that by the bulk of the people around them, Julian being shoved against her back one moment and then dragged away the next.

Oh god, what if they managed to get separated? John would never forgive her if she managed to lose their precious janitor. As though on instinct, she grabbed his hand, tightly twinning their fingers together. He glanced at her in surprise and she gave him a reassuring nod before turning back to the flood before them.

“Julian, make sure you don’t lose your hat.”

With that they set forth, Leticia pushing her way through the crowd with a practiced ease that was almost more terrifying to the young man than the chaos unfolding around them.

Suddenly the idea that that idiot of a network president had been thoroughly impressed enough for even his hazy brain to wrap around the idea of hiring her made a lot more sense...

*

“Are...Are shopping trips always that terrifying?” Julian wheezed, laying limp beneath a mound of gift bags in the front seat.

“Not usually.” The stage manager nonchalantly replied, tucking a few of the larger gifts into the trunk and coming around to relieve the boy of his brightly colored burden.

“On that note, remind me never to bring you out during Black Friday.”

The poor young man didn’t even have enough energy to look scared at the statement and by the time Leticia started the car he had dozed off. She chuckled, reaching over to pat him on the head as she pulled out onto the road. There was still a few hours before the party began, so the time to get ready had arrived.

The trip to the apartment was a quiet one and the stage manager was gentle when she reached over to shake the janitor awake.

“Julian...we’re here.”

The young man roused easily enough, but almost face-planted into the ground the instant he stepped out of the car. Leticia sighed and elected to help him, carefully guiding the drowsy man into the apartment in lou of retrieving the packages.

“Tish? Is that y-oh!”

The young woman who had popped out of the kitchen at their entrance threw a hand over her mouth in surprise, then broke into a beaming smile as she rushed over to them.

“You must be Julian! Tish has told me so much about you!”

Julian glanced over at Leticia for help, obviously overwhelmed by the living bundle of energy before him.

“Julian, this is my partner Melody.” She announced and the boy’s face lit up at the realization.

“O-oh, of course! I-It’s a pleasure to meet you.” He replied, giving her a polite nod and the woman looked over at Leticia with a smirk.

“Ooooo, quite the charmer we’ve got here. I can see why you-knows-who had their eye on him.”

“Er, what?” Julian asked and from behind him Leticia gave the universal gesture of ‘shut up’.

“Oh, nothing. Do you two want some tea? I was just about to make a fresh pot.”

“Ah, yes please, if it’s not too much trouble. But what were you saying about-?”

Before he could finish his question she had disappeared back into the kitchen and Leticia gave him a pat on the shoulder.

“Don’t mind her, she’s a terrible gossip. Now then, if you’d like to clean up before the party, the bathroom is right down that hall. Help yourself to whatever’s in there. The towels are in the closet across from it.”

Seeming to have just been waiting for an exit from the befuddling situation, he gave a short word of thanks and disappeared down the hall. There was sound of shuffling from the hall closet, then the creak of hinges in need of oiling as he slipped into the bathroom.

With the young man out of earshot, Leticia gave a sigh and followed her girlfriend into the kitchen. She drew up behind the other woman and wrapped her arms around her, hooking her chin over her shoulder and giving a slightly too tight squeeze. When the other woman glanced over at her, she gave a strained smile that held an undercurrent of wanting to smack the brunette upside the head.

“Melody, mon amour. Please don’t go around spilling a certain someone’s deepest darkest secrets to the object of his affections. Lord knows the circus is just held together with glue and string as it is. Who knows what would happen if that little tidbit of knowledge started floating around unsupervised.”

‘Oh, don’t worry. I know how to keep my lips zipped.” The girl replied with a grin.

“Besides, he seems a bit...well, oblivious, to be frank.”

“...Well, you’re not exactly wrong.”

When Julian emerged close to an hour later, he was scrubbed so thoroughly he almost seemed to gleam and smelled faintly of cherry blossoms. Ooo, nice choice.

He joined them at the table and either he’d completely forgotten their previous interaction, or had simply decided not to pry. Instead, they let the conversation take them where it wished, and soon the clock was tolling, the party close to come. They set about their final prep, Melody giving an enthusiastic thumbs up to the well-dressed pair, and with one last kiss to her girlfriends cheek, they were out the door. The sun was hovering on the horizon as they made their way through the city, large fluffy flakes of snow beginning to fall. Moving out towards the hillier portion of town, the traffic thinned, and soon it was just the two of them cruising along through the twilight.

As they wound up the long curving road leading to their host’s home, Leticia became aware of a soft rhythmic tapping from somewhere within the car. Glancing over, she found her companion staring down at his lap, expression troubled, fingers nervously tapping a staccato rhythm against his armrest.

“Alright, what is it this time?” She asked, and this time he didn’t even seem surprised, just giving a sigh.

“Just...nervous. “ He muttered.

“Well, don’t be. You know everyone who’s going to be in that house. It’s not like you’re going to be mingling with a bunch of strangers.”

“Well, yeah, but-“

Before he could finish they crested the top of a hill and were practically blinded by the light coming from the building before them. Julian threw up his hands to block it while Leticia merely squinted and steered them through the front gate and to a stop beside the row of cars at the door. Blinking away the spots in his vision, Julian looked up and couldn’t help but gasp. The building before them could be described as nothing less than a mansion, polished and gleaming in the last light of day. If the janitor hadn’t felt out of place before, he certainly did now. Seeing his, to be honest, slightly terrified expression, Leticia gave a sigh and climbed from the car, moving around to his side, and manhandling him out of the seat.

“We’re already here, no backing out now.” She declared and marched them to the front door.

The foyer was just as resplendent as the outside, the large crystal chandelier hanging above casting glittering lights about as they draped their coats on the nearby rack.

“Leticia, Julian!”

They turned to see John striding in from the adjoined room, arms spread wide in greeting. His gleaming smile lacked its normal forced showmanship, instead seeming as warm and inviting as the house itself.

“So good to see you both! We were beginning to think you’d gotten lo-!“

His joke stammered off as Julian turned fully towards him and his gaze finally took in the boy as a whole. As they watched, his eyes grew wide, skin flushing red and jaw dropping open a tad in shock. The host looked as though he’d just witnessed the damn rapture, his mind barely able to wrap around what he was seeing. Julian shifted restlessly under his gaze, brows furrowing slightly in concern as one of the man’s hands slowly came up to settle over his heart, the healthy dose of awe in his expression unfortunately lost on the poor boy. Throwing Leticia a confused look, he inched closer to the older man, hand cautiously reaching out for him.

“Mr. Cameron? Are you alright?”

His words seemed to break the host out of his stupor and the man gave several fast blinks, mouth flapping open and closed like a fish out of water as he tried desperately to string a cohesive sentence together.

“Ah...I...you...”

He suddenly clammed up and, with all the well-honed grace of a true showman, promptly turned on his heel and fled back the way he’d come.

“Ah, Mr. Cameron!” Julian exclaimed, making a grab for him and missing by a mile. As the host disappeared around the corner the janitor turned to Leticia, expression panicked.

“Leticia, w-what did I do?! Was it something I said?”

The woman calmly shook her head, patting the young man on the shoulder in an attempt to ease him.

“Non, non. No need to worry Julian. John is simply being... well, John. This is nothing new. Well, at least not to me. Just go enjoy the party, I’ll go get him. The living room is straight through that door and to the right.” She replied, giving him a little push towards said doorway. The young man glanced apprehensively over his shoulder at her, fiddling nervously with the cuffs of his sweater.

“A-Are you sure?”

“Oui, je suis. Now off you go. Shoo shoo.”

She waved him off into the corridor like a skittish cat before setting off on her own task.

Suddenly overcome with shyness, the young man slowly made his way down the sprawling main hall, eyes flicking from place to place in wonder. Everywhere he looked was expensive trinkets, fine architecture and memorabilia of one sort or another. Finally a flicker of sound caught his ears and he inched towards a wide doorway, peeking inside. The apparently living room was large and sprawling, populated by a number of decorations. A large blue spruce stood off to one side, decorated to the nines with lights and baubles, a large fireplace with a roaring blaze a bit away from it. In addition there was a large table populated by a number of drinks and snacks, a number of comfortable chairs and a couch just beyond it. And milling about the place were handful of show members. To be exact, Jacque, François and Pierre.

The poor young man felt his hairs stand on end, suddenly overcome by nervousness. Maybe if he just left before they noticed...

Before he could as much as duck behind the door, Jacque glanced over, his face lighting up when he spied the new partier.

“Ay, Julian!”

The janitor finally gave up on trying to escape the situation, stepping out from behind the doorway as the stage hand swiftly made his way over.

“Wasn’t sure you was gonna show up. Ay, lookin good!” He cheerfully declared, giving Julian an impressed once over.

“So, Tish bring ya over?”

“Y-Yeah.” He sheepishly replied and the stage hand looked around.

“Where is she anyway? Haven’t seen her yet tonight.”

“O-Oh, she went to look for Mr. Cameron. He ran off to do something right after we got here.”

“Eh, I’m sure they ain’t getting up to much. Probably sortin the wine cellar or something.” The taller man replied with a shrug. With that he grinned and wrapped an arm around Julian’s shoulders, pulling him toward the other waving crew members.

“C’mon, let’s get you settled in. Party’s just starting!”

His excitement was infectious and Julian couldn’t help but smile and relax as he was led.

“Yeah, you’re right. I’m sure they’re fine.”

*

“Leticia, what did you do to him!?” John stammered behind the hand clasped over his mouth, eyes still wide and face ablaze as he ran a hand through his hair.

“Oh calmez-vous. All I did was get him some new clothes. You’re the one who demanded proper dress.” The stage manager replied, waving a hand dismissively as she leaned back beside him. She’d found him in the kitchen, pacing circles around the island as he slowly seemed to have yet another breakdown. She’d managed to wrangle him long to get him to stop wearing a rut in the floor and the two were now leaned against the counter together, the host bent forward over it and staring at the marble as though it would provide him answers whilst she casually examined one of the bottles of wine beside her. At her sass his head snapped around with a glare to look at her, voice a conspiratorial hiss as he replied.

“Yes, but I just expected for you to get him something that actually fit properly, not somehow transform him into the most attractive person on the planet!”

“Oh non my friend, that part was all you. I have no control over the whims of your heart.” She replied with a smirk and he stared at her with a deadpan expression, hand pausing in its path through his hair. His locks had been certifiably mussed by now, his fiddling pulling them from their normal neatly combed style. After a few moments he gave a long, deep-suffering sigh and leaned across her for one of the wine bottles.

“I’m not nearly drunk enough for this.”

“Oh no you don’t.” She quipped, snatching it out of his grasp and holding it out of reach.

“If you’re facing feelings tonight, you’re doing it sober.”

The host pouted at her, looking up through his eyelashes in his best kicked puppy impression.

“...Or at least wait till the rest of us are drunk as well. That way I won’t need to worry about managing this disaster in the making.”

“Oh, why thank you so much for that vote of confidence Tish.” He sarcastically replied, the sympathetic act dropping away in place of a cocked eyebrow and unimpressed frown. She chuckled, deftly popping the bottle open and taking a swig.

“Anytime mon ami.”

*

“So then, I look this guy in the eye and say- Whoa, watch it kid!”

Jacques shout reached Julian a second to late and he choked and hacked as the glass of whiskey he’d accidentally grabbed seared its way down his throat. He quickly dropped the alcohol back on the table beside his actual cup of sparkling cider and doubled over, practically coughing up a lung. The trio of men seated around him burst into laughter, Jacque firmly patting him on the back in a weak attempt to help.

“Really packs a punch, don’t it?” Pierre smirked, eyes glittering mirthfully and Julian smiled sheepishly, finally managing to get his coughing under control.

“Be glad you just got a sip.” Jacque chuckled, plucking his glass off the table.

“This is the good Scottish stuff. A decent mouthful would have knocked you on your ass.”

With that he threw back a good quarter of it in one go and the others cheered, Julian a tad hoarsely, as he swallowed it down with apparent ease.

“What’s going on in here?”

The group turned to see Leticia and John stepping through the doorway. When the woman saw them, her eyes narrowed.

“You three had better be behaving yourselves...” She warned and Jacque chuckled, obviously unfazed by her threat.

“Aw, chill out Tish.  We weren’t doin nothin. Just though it was about time to introduce the kiddo to the wonders of alcohol.”

At his response the woman facepalmed with frustrated noise, giving a grumble of “I do not need to deal with you all being drunk as skunks tonight...”, while their host just looked plain alarmed with the concept of the janitor consuming hard drinks. As Leticia stalked over to do god knows what, Julian carefully crept away from what was no doubt about to become a massacre and made his way over to John’s side.

“Um, hello Mr. Cameron.” He greeted him and the man gave a chuckle.

“Please Julian, you’re a guest in my own home. Just call me John.” He replied with a smile and the smaller man fidgeted.

“Oh, of course. Thank you for inviting me Mr. C- er, John.” The boy replied, stuttering around the name in the same uncomfortable way a child might should they get the same request from their teacher.

“It was my pleasure. How are you holding up this evening?”

“Oh, I’m alright. I just feel a bit...out of place. I...I don’t come to things like this very often.” He sheepishly admitted, and John nodded in understanding, glancing away to check on things in the Leticia corner of the world. She currently had both François and Pierre in her grip, one of their ears in each hand, and seemed to be quietly berating them, Jacque having managed to partially avoid the attack by getting a chair between himself and her. John shook his head, suddenly feeling an even stronger need for a drink. One day of peace, that’s all he asked for...

“Um, J-John? Are you alright?

“Hm? What do you mean?” The older man asked, tilting his head in confusion.

“Well, you kind of, um...ran off earlier.”

The host gave a sigh and rubbed the bridge of his nose, now thrust into the role of sheepish one.

“Oh, right. I must apologize for that. I realized something I needed to do and hurried off to deal with it. It hadn’t even occurred to me how rude it may see from an outsider’s perspective. You must think me a terrible host.”

“Oh, not at all! I think you’re doing a wonderful job.” Julian chirped and John gave a smile.

“I thank you for that Julian. Still I feel I must repay you. How would you like the grand tour?” The man asked and the boy nodded enthusiastically, pulling a chuckle from his companion.

“Well then, just follow me.”

For the next hour plus, John lead the excitable young man from room to room, pointing out interesting trinkets and keepsakes with the same captivating flare that he used each night on the show. Eventually they found themselves outside, wandering through the hibernating garden as John explained the inspiration behind the properties architecture. They walked beneath a covered pathway, but the growing drifts of snow sweeping across the landscape still spilled into the shelter and licked at their feet. In the middle of recounting his acquisition of a Greek statue, a sudden gust of wind cut the host off, the already heavy snow beginning to fall even more steadily.

“Hmm, it’s beginning to look a bit rough. Perhaps it would be wise to make our way back inside. The front door should be closest. Right this way.”

As the two men circled around the edge of the house and neared the front entry, John paused and glanced back out towards the main gate, brow furrowing.

“Hmm, that could be a problem.”

“Huh? Problem?” Julian asked, glancing over as well and quickly spotting the issue. A thick coat of glittering white had efficiently covered the metal structure and the road leading away.

“I believe we may just be snowed in.” John declared and Julian’s brow furrowed in concern.

“But how will we get home then?”

“Hmm, I imagine you’d just need to spend the night. No matter, there’s plenty of spare rooms to choose from. Now then, it’s probably best we get inside.”

“...Wait, stay the night?!” Julian squeaked as the words finally registered, whirling around and following the retreating figure. Head still spinning with the implication of what the man had said, he deposited his coat back on the rack and trailed the host back to the living room. The other men were still in one piece, which was reassuring, though François and Pierre had fled to the opposite side of the room from Leticia, casting nervous glances her way every so often.

“A-Are you sure? I wouldn’t want to intrude...” Julian muttered, keeping pace with John as the man crossed to the refreshment table and began fiddling with the drinks.

“Oh nonsense. What kind of host would I be to kick my guests out into the snow? Of course you’re welcome-Would you like a glass?” The older man suddenly cut himself off, turning to the janitor and holding up a bottle of champagne. The younger man tilted his head at it curiously, before throwing cation to the wind and nodding. The host produced two glasses and filled them with a practiced ease, offering one to the smaller and holding his own up.

“To another hopefully successful year.” He announced and Julian smiled, clinking his glass to the offered one before taking a sip. It tickled his throat, but didn’t burn the same way the whiskey had, and he let the sweet liquid sit on his tongue for a few moment before swallowing and taking another. He and John fell into casual conversation and soon they had finished half a dozen glasses between the two of them, a slight pleasant warmth settling in the youngers chest. The janitor knew a great many things, but evidently pacing wasn’t one of them...Oh, stop your pouting.

Across the room they heard Leticia give a scoff and turned to look her way. The woman was gazing at Jacque in fond exasperation, rolling her eyes. The man was dozing in an armchair near the fire, head held up with one hand while from the other loosely dangled an empty crystal tumbler. The stage manager shook her head, leaning closer to him and speaking.

“Jacque.”

The stagehand jerked awake, nearing dropping the glass as he half choked on a snore.

“Snerk-huh? Wh-Whatcha want?” He asked drowsily, yawning into his hand.

“If you are so tired, just go to bed.” The woman replied and the man tilted his head at her in confusion.

“Bed? I ain’t driving home in this shit.”

“I meant your bed here you fool.” She replied with another eyeroll, and Julian glanced at John questioningly. Before his question could be uttered, he was interrupted by Jacques rough laugh.

“Nah, this party’s just getting started! I can’t tap out just yet!”

“Well then, I’m cutting you off at the very least. If you plan on lasting much longer, you need to stop drinking like it’s the end of the world.”

“Aw comeon Tish! You know I never get to have the good stuff!”

As the two set about bickering over the bottle of whisky between them, Julian leaned over to John.

“His ‘bed here’? What is she talking about?” He quietly asked and the host gave a small noise of realization.

“Ah, that’s right. No one’s ever mentioned it.”

Turning to pour himself more champagne, he explained.

“You see, I have a few rooms here at the house set up for the other members of the crew. They’ve spent enough time here that referring to them as “guest rooms” became a bit of a moot point.”

Turning back, he found Julian gazing at him with an adoring expression.

“Oh Mr. Cameron! That’s so kind!”

The older man flushed a bit at the praise, not even seeming to notice the name slip as he glanced bashfully into his glass.

“Oh, it’s really not anything to write home about...”

“Of course it is! You opened your home to them and it’s clear you really care. How can that not be special?” The janitor insisted, gently touching the taller man’s arm.

John’s smile was just a tad dorky as he beamed down into his glass, his heart pounding in his chest. Perhaps it was the champagne finally getting to him, but a warm confidence settled in his bones and he found himself setting the glass aside.

“Julian, I want to show you something.”

The younger man tilted his head in curiosity as the host waved for him to follow and set off deeper into the house. He hurried to follow, trailing along behind as John lead him through a tangle of halls and up a staircase. They finally stopped before a thick set of oak doors. This was a section of the house they hadn’t visited earlier, and so Julian found himself glancing around in curiosity. John’s smile grew at his companion’s enthusiasm, waving a hand to catch his attention.

“Right through here.”

With that he pushed the doors open and stepped inside, Julian following and sucking in a breath when he saw the room.

It was a bedroom, wide and open with thick soft carpeting, decorated in purple and silver. A huge window seat on the far end of the room looked out over the garden, quite the view, and a door off to the side no doubt lead to an equally impressive bathroom. The true highlight of the space though was the bed. It was full and dressed in royal curling patterns, one look telling him sleeping on it would be like laying on a cloud. Even more impressive was the mural stretching up the wall behind it and spilling out onto the city. It depicted the Paris skyline at night, the few areas of it cast into shadow glowing with florescent paint, revealing a brilliant starscape. In a wide arc around the bed hung a shimmering curtain, pulled back for the moment but easily capable of capsuling the sleeping space should the user wish a bit more privacy.

“What do you think?”

The host softly rang out, his voice shy and hopeful, and Julian turned to him with a slightly confused smile.

“It’s wonderful. But why are you...?”

He froze when he saw the gentle look John was observing him with and something seemed to click. His eyes went wide, looking around the room once more.

“Wait, is this...?”

“You’re a member of the crew aren’t you?” The host asked and Julian felt his eyes grow glassy. A little sniffle was all the warning John got before he was suddenly locked in a tight hug, a curly haired head buried in his chest.

“Oh, Mr. Cameron! Thank you so much! I love it!” Came the muffled cry and he chuckled, patting the younger man on the head as he returned the embrace.

“What did I say about calling me that?” He teased, but couldn’t help but chuckle as Julian pulled away and began to examine the details of the space with a new vigor.

Little did he know about the circumstances that lead to the room coming to be. A week after Julian’s return the host had woken up in a cold sweat, the image of a still body in a pool of red haunting his dreams. Unable to sleep he’d come to the unused room just down from his own and set to work like a man possessed. He’d come to work the next day swaying like a leaf in the wind and barely staying on his feet, but his goal was complete. He had a place for the boy. A place for him to belong, when he could rest and be watched over. A place where John could keep him safe.

(Of course, the host had been chickening out on telling him about it for months now, but Julian didn’t need to know that.)

“Let me know if there’s anything you’d like to change. The bed, drapes, hell even the wallpaper. Anything you want. This room is yours now.

“Oh no, it’s perfect just the way it is! No need to go out of your way on my account.” The recipient replied and John playfully rolled his eyes. Humble as always this one. He watched as Julian turned and dropped onto his back upon the bed, sighing contently as he sunk into the plush bedding and mattress. With a smile he came to sit beside him, leaning back on his hands in order to keep sight of the younger man’s face.

“Well, you certainly seem to be having fun.”

“Oh, of course! This is the best party I’ve been to since I was a kid!” Julian replied, looking over at him with a smile. John regarded him quizzically, tilting his head.

“Well that’s certainly some high praise. If I remember correctly, you mention you don’t go to a lot of events, so at least this one will have been memorable.”

The janitor chuckled nervously and glanced away, fingers fiddling with the fabric of the comforter.

“Um, well yes. The last one was... well, one of my great grandfathers actually. I, uh, I don’t really get invited to things often...Or at all...”

As he spoke his expression fell and John felt his heart clench. He knew bits and pieces about the boy’s past, but the overall story was still a mystery to him. With each piece he uncovered though, the picture seemed to become more and more grim. If only he could...

“It doesn’t have to be that way.”

Julian paused, glancing over at the host in surprise. The older man seemed just as surprised about the outburst and merely watched back as the janitor stared at him in confusion.

“W-What do you mean?”

Seeming to snap out of his shock, the older man looked down, fiddling with his hands.

“Well, you’re a part of the show now. A part of us. You’re always welcome.”

He felt the bed shift and looked over to see Julian sitting up, his expression growing uncertain before slipping into a sad smile.

“Oh, Mr Cameron. I appreciate it, I really do. But you don’t have to go out of your way just to make me feel-“

The host’s expression suddenly turned determined and he cut the younger man off with a soft hand on his arm.

“No, Julian. I won’t hear it. We care about you. I care about you. More than you could ever know. I don’t know what happened to you in the past. And whether you ever choose to tell us is your choice and yours alone. But I won’t let what you went through back then define the future. You’re safe now. And I’m going to make sure it says that way.”

The room went silent, not a single word nor breath breaking the still air as they stared at each other. John watched as the eyes of the man before him slowly filled with tears, mouth moving wordlessly as he tried to wrap his mind around what he’d just heard. Finally a tiny sob escaped him, a hand shakily lifting to try and swipe the tears away.

“I...I...”

Before he could say another word, John wrapped him up in his arms and pulled him close.

“I’ve got you Julian. I’ve got you.”

With that the janitor began to cry in earnest, clinging to the older man tightly and burying his face in the host’s collar. Despite the tears though, a happy, even relieved smile was stretched across his lips. John pushed himself further up the bed and settled his back against the headboard, pulling the smaller man along with him. Now that he took the time to notice, he found the boy to be surprisingly light for his size, almost concerning so. Perhaps he shouldn’t be surprised, considering how little he’d ever seen the janitor eat. They’d need to rectify that. But not now. Right now he was content to pull the younger man into his lap and hold him, rubbing circles into his spine as he rested his cheek against the others soft hair.

“Thank you...” Julian whispered, voice muffled by the fabric of John’s shirt and the host nodded softly, shifting his grip to hold the other closer.

After a few minutes the younger’s sniffling faded and he lifted his head to wipe away the mess of tears on his face.

“Sorry, I got your shirt all wet.” He apologized, noticing the large damp spot on the fabric and the recipient smiled.

“It doesn’t matter, as long as you’re alright. I have about 10 more in the closet anyway.”

Before John could release him from the embrace however the janitor settled back down, laying his head on the host’s shoulder and sheepishly avoiding eye contact.

“Um, do you...do you think we could just stay like this for a bit?” He muttered, receiving only a tiny chuckle and the arms around him tightening as a reply.

They stayed that way for what felt like hours, one or the other shifting occasionally into a more comfortable pose. John was beginning to wonder if the others even realized they were gone when a sleepy sounding mumble met his ears.

“You’re really warm.”

He looked down to find the boy in his lap in a half doze, probably having not even realized he spoke. He looked up at the host’s movement and his drowsy expression was so adorable that John couldn’t help but smile.

“Yes, I’ve been told that. If you think I’m bad though, you should try sitting next to Tish during the summer. You’d start to think the woman was spawned from the pits of the underworld itself.”

Julian laughed. It was a light, musical sort of noise and John felt his heart thud heavily in his chest, face flushing a bit. Had their faces always been this close? The smaller man smiled at him and the host eyes slid closed a bit. It was as though a spell had been cast over them, the rest of the world fading away.

“Juli-“

Before his whisper could be fully uttered the man in his arms leaned up and pressed their lips together. The kiss was soft and slow, but John felt as though fireworks were exploding in his chest, sending a rush of warmth out through his limbs. He pulled the janitor even closer, closing up what little space had remained between them, and leaned to accommodate the height difference. A hand tangled in his shirt, officially ruffling the garment beyond the point of fixing, but he couldn’t have cared less, burying one of his own hands in the man’s curly locks as the kiss became a tad more heated. A hand found its way to the smaller’s waist, fingertips slipping beneath the very edge of sweater to stroke gently at the soft skin beneath and the young man gave a pleased shiver.

Eventually though, the need for air became too much and they pulled apart, breath mingling as they gazed at each other. Julian’s eyes were drowsy and soft and John had to fight the urge to pepper kisses across the boy’s face.

As he watched the smaller man’s gaze seemed to clear of its sleepy haze a bit and he stared at the host for a long moment. Then his eyes flashed open wide and with a gasp he threw himself backwards across the bed away from the older man.

“Oh my god! I-I-I-!” He stammered and John straightened, gazing at him in confusion. As he watched the younger looked down at the sheets with wide, distressed eyes, running a hand nervously over his hair as his face went pale.

“Why did I do that? Why did I do that?! Oh god, he’d gonna be so mad...!”

He began to frantically talk to himself under his breath and the host leaned closer, becoming increasingly concerned.

“Julian, are you alright?”

The younger man’s snapped up, suddenly seeming to remember John’s presence in the room, and his face flashed to an even brighter red than it had been before with startling speed.

“Mr. Cameron! I-I didn’t mean to...!”

“No, no Julian it’s ok. I’m-” He quickly replied, holding up his hands in what he hoped was a calming manner. He carefully reached for the younger man, wanting noting more than to hold him close and banish his worries, but before he could touch him the janitor flinched back.

“I-I’m sorry! I have to go!” He exclaimed, tripping over his words, and within a split second he’d leapt up off the bed and tore out of the room. The last time the host had seen him move that fast he’d been throwing himself between the foolish man and an angry polar bear, and John felt his heart clench. He rushed to go after him, legs tangling in the ruffled sheets and almost sending him face-planting into the carpet. Stumbling, he almost crashed into the open door as he stumbled out into the hallway, the cry already building in his throat.

“Julian! Julian wai-!”

He rounded the corner to find an empty hallway and glanced around desperately in search of him. Starting off down a random corridor, he sprinted as fast as his legs could carry him, shouting out for the younger man. Yet there was not a single sign of him, and as John paused wheezing at an intersection, he began to feel his quest was doomed.

“Ugh, curse this huge house!” He cried to no one in particular, then set off once more. He couldn’t give up like this. He had to set this right.

*

Julian what are you doing!? He was about to-!

“I-I can’t do this right now!” The young man squeaked, cutting off the voice in his head.

“Everything’s moving too fast!”

He could feel his chest beginning to tighten and his breaths coming shorter. He clutched the front of the sweater as the voice came again, softer this time, as though it were trying to calm a scared animal.

Julian, please just try to calm down and breath.

Feeling his panic quickly spiraling out of control, the janitor merely nodded absently to the open air, trying to keep his wits about him. He ducked into the next room he found, instinctually seeking out and squeezing into the nearest small space. Which in this case was the empty space beneath a cabinet. He pulled his legs close to his chest, laying his head against them

Don’t worry, you know what to do. Come on boy, deep breaths now.

Julian shakily nodded a bit, forehead knocking against this knee caps and inhaled deeply, holding it for a few seconds before exhaling. Drumming his fingers nervously against his pants, he continued, eyes slipping closed as he kept count. Inhale, hold for 3, exhale, repeat. Slowly his heartrate calmed, the tension in his muscles unfurling a bit and he slumped back against the wood behind him with a long sigh.

“I’m so stupid.”

Sometimes, yes. But not now.

“Yes I am. Oh, he’s gonna hate me.”

And why do you think that?

“Why do I- I kissed him? Why do you think?!”

But he kissed back.

“That was just the alcohol. We were both drunk. I never should have taken that drink.”

He certainly seemed pretty ecstatic about the situation for being in a drunken haze.

But the janitor elected to ignore his ever so helpful Narrator, instead nervously running fingers through his hair as his thoughts spiraled out of control.

“Oh god, oh god what if he bans me from the show against? What if they finally kick me out altogether? I...I don’t know what to do...”

The young man began to tear up, wrapping his arms tightly around himself in an attempt at self-comfort.

Oh, Julian. I’m sure it’ll be fine.

The janitor opened his mouth one again to argue...

Only to be interrupted by the click of hears against tile as someone walked into the kitchen. A pair of legs moved into view, belonging to none other than Leticia, and paused to examine the bottles on the table above.

“Pierre, rose or- eh?”

Leticia paused just short of the figure sitting beneath the overhang of the alcohol cabinet, just now seeming to notice him. She leaned over a bit to see him better, arching an eyebrow in confusion.

“Julian? Is that you mon amie? What are you doing down there?”

The young man gave a little sniffle, swiping at his eyes to clear the wetness as he spoke in a quiet murmur.

“Leticia, I messed up.”

The woman immediately knelt to meet his height, expression one of concern.

“What happened? Where is John?”

“He...He took me to see the bedroom. And I was so happy. But then things got out of hand and...and we...”

He clammed up, a fresh wave of embarrassment and nervousness sweeping over him at the memory.

“Julian?” Leticia asked, fully sitting down before him and reaching out to hold his hand. He took a deep breath, his voice barely audible when we spoke.

“We...we kissed.”

The woman’s eyes went wide at the announcement, realization flickering in her gaze. Expression softening, she took his hand in both of her own, stroking a thumb along the skin.

“Well, that certainly explains a few things. But Julian, it is going to be fine. John won’t be upset.”

“But how do you know that? How do you know he won’t hate me for this?” The young man replied in despair and the woman smiled reassuringly.

“Well, perhaps I’m not the best to say this, but John-“

“So, which of you kissed the other first?”

Julian gave a little squeak of a cry as Jacque suddenly stooped into view around the side of the cabinet, expression wide and interested. Leticia turned to him with a very deadpan look of “Really?” and the man shrugged as he crouched down beside them.

“What, I’m just curious! So kid, who was it?” He replied with a shrug, quickly turning his attention back to Julian. His focus was almost a bit too intense however, simply staring wordlessly at the boy as he waited for him to answer, and Julian felt himself wither under the gaze a bit, voice just short of a whisper when he spoke.

“It...It, uh, it was...me...”

“HA! I KNEW IT!” the stagehand suddenly shouted, and the janitor jumped hard enough to nearly crack his skull on the underside of the cabinet. Jacque pumping a fist in the air victoriously then turned to Leticia with a grin.

“Alright, you heard him! Pay up!”

The woman cursed quietly under her breath and reached for her purse, Julian’s mind reeling as it tried it keep up. As he saw the small wad of bills trading hands, something clicked and his eyes went wide.

“Y-You were betting? One who kissed who? But-But how could you possible know we would...?”

He trailed off, mind reeling as it tried to wrap around the idea, and Leticia sighed.

“In truth, we didn’t. That’s the point of it being a bet. As for why, it’s really not my place, nor any beside John’s, to say.” She shot a glare at Jacque, who stuck the tip of his tongue out at her playfully. Rolling her eyes, she turned back to the still befuddled Julian.

“But...But he hated me.”

“Oh, he never hated you.” Leticia replied, waving a hand about as though to dismiss the notion.

“Found you annoying and infuriating, of course. Generally saw you as a pest, I’m sure we all did at the time. But hate? Never.”

“I...I’m just very confused by all this.”

“Then you’ll need to take it up with John. We may have known each other for years, but I doubt he’d ever forgive me if I revealed too much.”

“...A-Are you two playing a joke on me?” Julian quietly asked, and at their deadpan silence the whole situation finally sunk in all the way.

“...Y-You’re telling the truth...oh my god...Ok, but you bet on us kissing?? Why??”

The poor boy just looked plain befuddled by the idea, which certainly wasn’t helped by the nonchalant shrug Jacque gave.

“Ay, we’re stagehands. We’ll bet on anything. We need to do something to keep ourselves occupied. Besides, out of everybody around, you two just had the best chemistry. So it was bound to happen at some point, right?”

His two companions just stared at him for a moment before Leticia gave a sigh, rising into a kneel and offering Julian her hand.

“Come on, let’s get you out of there.”

As she helped him stand the boy’s head spun, teetering on his feet for a moment as his body finally straightened.

“I...I’m gonna go get some fresh air.”

They watched as he slowly crossed to the balcony doors and slipped outside, glancing at each other as the door clicked closed.

“Do you think he’s gonna figure it out?

The snow and wind had calmed when he stepped out into the night air, the soft crunch of snow beneath his feet seeming so loud in the silence. He walked to the edge and leaned against the railing, choosing one of the spots devoid of snow.

“Everything was going so well...” He muttered, head drooping.

Oh, this is just a small setback. I’m sure everything will turn out fine.      

“You don’t know that. Just...Just be quiet, will you?”

Oh, fine. Just throw me to the wayside. See if I narrate for you again....But really, it’ll be alright Julian.

“...You always say that...”

*

John burst into the room looking like a man possessed, hair and jacket in disarray, looking around frantically.

“Where could he be?!”

“Oh, there you are. We were wondering when you’d show up.”

He looked over at the voice to see Leticia rise from her seat and stride over, giving a once over with cocked eyebrow.

“Well, he certainly did a number on-“

“Leticia! Leticia, Leticia!” He cut her off, grabbing her biceps in a panic.

“Julian! Have you seen him?!”

She replied with a nod toward the balcony doors and he turned to see the janitor standing before the railing. He was silhouetted by the snow and moonlight and the host felt himself being drawn towards him.

“Oh and John?”

He turned to see Leticia watching him with an expression that told him she was deathly serious.

“If you break his heart, I’ll personally beat you to a pulp.”

“...If I do, I’ll be happy to let you Tish.”

*

He heard the handle of the door click and swing open behind him and paused. Was Leticia or Jacque coming to check on him? Warm air and sounds from inside washed over him for a moment, before the door shut, replaced instead with the crunch of shoes against snow as someone crossed to him. They stopped behind him, the scene quiet aside from a soft rustle of clothing shifting, and he was about to turn to address them when something warm was dropped over his shoulders. He glanced down and froze when he recognized the expensive jacket, hurriedly looking over out the corner of his eye as the owner settled against the railing beside him. He seemed fairly unperturbed by the cold, despite having just shucked off his only defense against the temperature, and folded his forearms against the chilled stone in one of the cleared spots, leaning out slightly to look over the frosted garden and hills.

“Beautiful night, isn’t it?”

The younger man finally snapped out of his shock and went back to observing the estate.

“Y-Yeah.”

They fell once more into an awkward silence, both staring out over the landscape and wondering where to go with this whole thing. A long deep sigh finally broke the tension as John slumped tiredly against the railing for a moment before straightening and turning to the boy.

“Julian...”

The janitor went tense, every muscle tightening. Here it came. The scorn, the rejection. Just like always.

“I’m sorry.”

Julian let out a little huff of a breath, turning in shock to the other man.

“W-What?”

“I’m sorry.” He repeated, stepping closer.

“I didn’t mean for things to go as far as they did. And if I upset you or made you uncomfortable, and you’d like me to leave you alone, I completely understand.”

“O-Oh! No, no, it’s fine!” He hurriedly replied, hands waving about in a tizzy as he stepping forward to meet him.

“If anyone took it too far, it was me. I’m so sorry, I just realized what was happening and...I panicked. I shouldn’t have run off like that.”

John practically seemed to melt in relief, all the stress he’d been holding in his frame suddenly vanishing.

“I glad to hear that. I feared I might have scared you off. I’m happy to find I was wrong. And what happened back there...I...I don’t regret it.”

Julian blinked a few times, head tilting a tad quizzically.

“H-Huh?”

Now it was John’s turn to flush, hands fiddling nervously with the hem of his shirt as his eyes flicked about the younger man’s face.

“Our, uh, the, the...kiss. I don’t regret the kiss. To be honest I’d kind of been...hoping for it?”

If the janitor hadn’t looked confused before he certainly did now.

“I...I don’t think I understand.”

The man before him gave a tiny huff of a laugh, expression one of fond amusement as he met the younger’s confused gaze with a warm one.

“I’ve begun to think my attachment to you goes a bit beyond mere friendship. And, if you ever wanted, we could maybe...try that kiss again?”

Julian went completely and entirely still, staring at him as the gears in his head seemed to turn and stutter.

...

...Julian?

...Juuuulian?

...............

...Oh dear, I fear that may have broken him.

...Oh! Oh, wait, he’s moving again.

The young man’s mouth flapped open and closed wordlessly a few times, a hand shakily lifting to point at himself.

“You’re...you’re interested in...?”

“Yes. Have been for quite a time now, even if I didn’t realize it myself.”

“Oh. Oooooooh...”

Cupping a hand over his mouth, the janitor flushed all the way to the tip of his ears as pieces began to fall into place. All the sideways looks over the past few months, the overwhelming kindness even when he continued to mess up, basically everything that had happened tonight. It all made sense if John was...

“Are-are you sure? I’ve just ruined the show so many times and I’m always in the way...” He quietly asked, nervously fidgeting. John closed the few feet between them, gently setting a hand on the smaller man’s shoulder.

“Quite sure. I know...that I have a bit of a temper. I can be unreasonable, quite often really. I’m a bit of a ‘diva’ if you ask Tish. And, yes, in the past we weren’t on the best of terms. But none of that effects how I feel about you now. And if you don’t feel the same, that’s fine. But...I just needed you to know.”

He watched as the janitor bit his lip for a moment, burying his face shyly in the neck of his sweater before slowly looking up at him through his eyelashes.

“I...I think I might...feel the same...maybe?”

Feeling his heart thud heavily in his chest, the host smiled and slid the hand on the younger man’s shoulder up to stroke his thumb along the janitor’s neck, the other digit settling on his hip.

“Would you like some help finding out?”

A flush that had nothing to do with the cold spreading over his cheeks, Julian slowly raised a hand and cupped John’s cheek with a little smile.

“I’d like that.”

It was John who leaned in this time, pausing for just a moment the tilt his head before their lips connected. Now fully aware of what was happening, Julian practically melted into his arms, hands gently fisting once more into the front of the man’s dress shirt. The host let out a little content breath, arms wrapping around the young man’s shoulders and waist, drawing the smaller close. Following his lead, Julian slid his arms up and draped them around the man’s neck, one hand stroking his shoulder, the other combing through the back of his hair. He felt John begin to dip him backwards and held on tight, smiling a bit into the kiss. The smile became panicked however as his feet began to slide forward on the icy ground between the man’s own, quickly robbing him of what little balance he had. Sensing his peril, the host quickly shifted his grip lower and scooped him up into his arms, their lips staying on each other’s the entire time as he strode to the railing and settled the younger onto the cold stone.

“John...” Julian muttered, pulling back a bit from the kiss and the older man grinned at the mention of his name.

“Yes?” He replied, planting a peck at the corner of the younger’s mouth.

“I have something I need to tell you.”

The host grew still, his expression troubled, obviously worried of what the janitor might say. Julian lifted a hand to his cheek, stroking his thumb along the curve of the bone beneath and the man relaxed, leaning into his touch. Despite his poise, the younger’s mind was running a million miles a minute. He wasn’t entirely sure why he was about to do what he was, but, well, no time like the present.

“John...I’m the one who finds the acts.”

The host froze once more, staring wide-eyed at him. Now it was apparently his head the gears were turning in. He slowly blinked a few times and then suddenly slammed the palm of one hand to his forehead with a loud smack.

“I am the world biggest fool.”

“I doubt that.” The janitor replied playfully.

“Jacque though I was a ghost for a while remember?”

The older man gave a huff of a laugh and gazed at the smaller fondly, thumbs rubbing little circles in the hollow of his hips.

“Confiding my secret in someone, only to find out that someone id the source of the secret to begin with. Oh the irony.”

“Not any more ironic for falling for the source of your problems.” The recipient replied, giving a cheeky smile and the host grinned, sliding his hands up the sides of his waist as he leaned in.

“Always a thorn in my side aren’t you?”

Before they could touch, a burst of wind gusted through and Julian felt the weight of the jacket lift from his shoulders. They paused and watched as it plummeted over the railing, disappearing into the snow far below with a distant “whump”. They stared after it for a moment before both bursting out into laughter, leaning heavily against each other as the residual buzz of alcohol in their systems got the better of them and they were overcome with giggles. They clung to each other, trying to keep their balance on the slippery balcony as they shook and practically turned to jelly with amusement. Finally the two calmed a bit, John tipping his head forward lean his forehead against the smaller’s. Still panting and giggling a tad around his breathes, he looked at the younger man with an expression that could only be called adoration.

“God I love you.”

The instant the words left his mouth, the host jerked back, holding Julian at arm’s length as he slapped a hand over his mouth, eyes wide and face blazing. There was a beat of silence between the two. Then the biggest smile he’d ever seen streaked across the younger’s face. As he threw himself into the host’s arms, tearing his hand away and crashing their lips together, he gave a half-sobbed laugh. And as the two finally lost their balance and fell back into a snowbank, they found they couldn’t care less about the damp coldness soaking through to their bones. In fact, they felt warm and safe, as though they were sitting before the roaring fire inside.

They felt home.

*

Beyond the glass of the door, unnoticed by the couple, stood a group of onlookers. Françoise and Pierre were grinning like a pair of cats, both reaching over without looking to click their glasses together in celebration, while Jacque looked about ready to start cheering, resorting instead to a giddy little victory dance. Leticia merely watched with a smile, eyes soft with a fondness normally reserved for only the closest of loved ones.

“Well, we’ll be needing another key. Hmm, I certainly seem to have a lot of family for being an only child...”

She felt a tap on her shoulder and looked back to find Jacque smirking at her, holding out a hand.

“I believe you owe me something?” He asked cheekily and she sighed, rolling her eyes as she fished another fold of bills out and handed them over to him.

“Oh, fine. How you keep winning theses thing’s I’ll never know.”

“What can I say?” He replied, grinning impishly as he counted out his winnings.

“I’ve always been good with bets.”

She shook her head and turned once more to look at the pair silhouetted in moonlight, completely absorbed in each other. As she watched, John pulled back from yet another kiss to place a little pec on Julian’s head, the janitor giving a smile and tucked himself up under the taller’s chin, snuggling in close to him. The host smiled softly, pressing his cheek to the younger man’s hair and slowly stroking a hand and down his back, lids falling half-closed in contentment. And for just a moment his gaze flickered up to the balcony doors.

He gave a shout when he saw the group watching them, flushing even deeper as his arms flailed about in a vague attempt to hide them both somehow, and Julian turned to see the cause of the commotion, cheeks practically lighting up like the tree in the corner when he spotted their audience.

“D-Don’t just stand there and watch! What’s wrong with you people?!” John shrieked and Leticia finally couldn’t take it anymore. She burst out laughing, clutching her sides as she leaned against the glass, eyes tearing up in mirthful fondness at the ridiculousness she’d involved herself in.

Oh what fool these mortals be.

*

John Cameron’s house has many beds.

And now there’s one more.

(Even if its owner prefers John’s own.)

Just a bunch of refs for different outfits and settings within the fic! (Some were never actually mentioned, but I had an idea for anyway.)

Julian's party outfit: https://ae01.alicdn.com/kf/HTB1Ptq7JVXXXXaJaXXXq6xXFXXX9/2016-font-b-Mens-b-font-Classic-font-b-Design-b-font-Formal-Business-And-Casual.jpg and https://img0.etsystatic.com/033/0/6236310/il_570xN.561311552_ksqm.jpg (but orange) Leticia's party outfit: https://www.jjshouse.com/A-Line-Princess-V-Neck-Asymmetrical-Tulle-Mother-Of-The-Bride-Dress-With-Ruffle-Beading-Sequins-008131615-g131615 John's party outfit: http://www.cliftoncharles.com/blog/wp-content/uploads/2014/06/2.jpg

Julian's room inspiration: http://www.streambreak.net/fancy-bedrooms/wonderful-fancy-bedrooms-bedroom-boys-master-bedrooms-beautiful-beds-beautiful-bedrooms-all-things-purple-purple-stuff-play-pen-purple-bedrooms-purple-rain.html Julian's bed: http://www.whataboutmimi.com/9888/purple-bed-sets-king-size-06-08-2017/fresh-purple-bed-sets-king-size-37-on-duvet-covers-queen-with-purple-bed-sets-king-size/ Leticias room: http://www.aneilve.com/16880-beautiful-king-bedroom-sets/wonderful-beautiful-king-bedroom-sets-pertaining-to-house-decorating-plan-with-enhance-the-king-bedroom-sets-the-soft-vineyard-6-amaza-design/ Jacques room: http://www.aneilve.com/16880-beautiful-king-bedroom-sets/lovely-beautiful-king-bedroom-sets-pertaining-to-home-decorating-plan-with-rocks-beautiful-and-bedroom-sets-on-pinterest/ Pierre and François room: http://www.aneilve.com/10902-queen-size-bedroom-furniture-sets/wonderful-queen-size-bedroom-furniture-sets-related-to-house-remodel-ideas-with-queen-size-bedroom-furniture-sets-cebufurnitures/ Johns room (cause he's a diva): http://cbcgate.com/canopy-bedroom-sets/king-size-bedroom-furniture-sets_poster-bedroom-sets_canopy-bedroom-suite_california-king-canopy-bed/

[thesinglesjukebox]

KENDRICK LAMAR FT. SZA - ALL THE STARS

[5.50]

You'll be seeing one of these artists again later this week, btw...

Eleanor Graham: Almost everything that makes Kendrick and SZA themselves has been well and truly Disneyed out of them, and it's a credit to them -- well, mostly SZA -- that this still sounds kind of intergalactic. I think movie trailers showcase music better than most music videos. Even in the stickiest £12 a ticket Cineworld you can experience the full catharsis of surround sound, the towering strings, the huge, percolating chorus. It's the cheapest, most expensive form of emotional manipulation. Not enough to distract from the song's thematic incompetence, but it's thrilling to hear that grand-scale urgency lent to the most quintessential of SZA throwaways: "it's a turn on/get it away from me." [7]

Will Adams: The dusky synths and string swells make for compelling cinema pop at the cost of both SZA and Kendrick having their personalities ironed out. At least it's not "Doves In the Wind." [6]

Alfred Soto: Their last collaboration sucked, the lamest track on SZA's debut. The chorus of "All the Stars" soars as intended, its destination an ickier place than expected. I can think of other artists I'd approach for phony uplift. [4]

Nortey Dowuona: SZA murks Kendrick on his own song by sounding more enthused and involved over the pedestrian drums and surprisingly energetic Hans Zimmer type-bass line and the sliding, sink-clean synths. [6]

Maxwell Cavaseno: You know, even as someone who's relatively found SZA less charming than half the planet, I do believe she deserves better than the Alicia Keys spot on a bad version of Thank Me Later-era Drakk type pop crossover records. Unfortunately, Kendrick hasn't felt enough of his labelmate to bother with such dignity, so here we are. [2]

Ryo Miyauchi: Kendrick Lamar has tackled impossibly heavy topics like it's his purpose here on Earth to the point it has become stressful to hear him sing "let's talk about love," no matter how sweet that effects-drenched voice may make it seem. Ambitious, to be certain, but "All the Stars" follows his poor track record of turning such efforts actually into pop with him tackling the concept with a half-baked verse. [5]

Stephen Eisermann: Synths, drums, and introspection -- oh my! Kendrick Lamar's verse is the perfect introduction to the Black Panther we've seen thus far -- quiet, sure, but confident and powerful. However, it's SZA who steals the show with her ethereal verse and chorus. Synths and strings swell behind her silky voice on the terrific chorus, and almost instantly you feel stars closing in too. [9]

Julian Axelrod: A vision of a not-too-distant future where every pop song is a patchwork of leftover Maroon 5 guest spots. [5]

[Read, comment and vote on The Singles Jukebox]

[himbowelsh]

For Baberoe: 5 times Babe kissed someone on a dare and one time he liked it.

AN: damn this got real wild real quick (ft babe/spina, babe/julian, babe/grant/lieb, OF COURSE babe/roe, and catch me sneak my own rarepair in there (tab/shifty)

It’s not so much the idea that Babe should start a kissing marathon as it is the idea that he can’t.

“Not possible,” Bill declares, sounding so sure of himself that Babe wants to punch him on principal. He’s got his arms crossed and is shaking his head. Whenever Bill declares something “not possible”, it probably means nothing good, and whenever he looks that confident, he deserves to get hit.

“What the hell do you mean?” Babe demands, sitting up straight. Bill is unimpressed.

“When was the last time you kissed someone? Like, actually kissed them?” He pauses, allowing Babe a few seconds of contemplation. Babe opens his mouth, closes it again, and that’s all Bill needs to see. “I’ll tell you exactly when. Doris, your junior year of high school.”

Babe remembers Doris well. She had large boobs, brown hair, and lips as hungry as a starving lion. Babe was sure he was supposed to like it, because every time his friends looked at him with her something green and jealous sparked in their eyes. He endured Doris for a whole month before declaring “not again, never again”.

Doris broke up with him on his birthday. It was the best gift she could have given him.

He remembers Doris well (hell, he’s still traumatized from Doris); he just wishes Bill didn’t remember her too.

Spina munches loudly on a carrot stick as he leans forward, eyes alight with interest. Babe hopes he chokes. “Ohh, that the girl who triggered Babe’s Great Gay Awakening?”

Bill nods sagely. “The very one.”

“Legendary.”

Fran looks a little disturbed, like she can’t comprehend anyone being that bad. (And, in truth, she wasn’t that bad, she was just aggressive. Babe would rather not think about it.) Julian, who witnessed the Doris drama and subsequent aftermath firsthand, only looks a little gleeful as he shoves a handful of chips into his mouth.

“I hate you all,” Babe announces. “And I could totally get anyone to kiss me if I wanted to. I could kiss everyone in this room.”

Bill points a thumb at himself, and Babe is forced to quickly revise his earlier statement. “‘Cept you. My lips would fall off if they went anywhere near you.”

This is much better. Bill nods as if this makes perfect sense, while Frannie sends him a thumbs up. Spina just snorts. “Can’t be worse than Darlin’ Doris.”

Maybe it’s this that sets him off. Maybe it’s just that any mention of Doris and Babe’s final, explosive endeavor into heterosexuality is a Button, and Spina just slammed his fist down on the Button so hard that it almost broke. Maybe he’s just mad.

Whatever it is, Babe storms up to Spina, straddles his lap, and plants his lips on his friend’s mouth.

There’s no time for anyone else, let alone poor Spina, to process what’s happening. He goes shock-still against Babe’s kiss, paralyzed. It’s like making out with a brick wall, but Babe is damn determined. He cups the back of Spina’s neck and deepens his kiss. A soft whine sounds in the back of Spina’s throat, and Babe can taste the remnants of carrots.

(He doesn’t even like carrots. Why couldn’t Spina have been eating chocolate?)

It takes a few seconds, but Babe feels the exact moment Spina gives himself up to the kiss. He sags against Babe’s chest, pressing back with his lips, and Babe can feel his friend’s heart rate begin to quicken against his chest.

This, plus the increasing need for air, is his cue to pull away. He draws back to find Spina breathless, panting, totally shell-shocked.

Without a word he slides off of Spina’s lap and turns back to the rest of the room. His friends are all gaping at him in various degrees of shock and confusion. Bill’s jaw has dropped; Julian looks ready to faint; Fran is staring like he’s just sprouted a brand new head.

“It’s been years since you kissed someone?” Spina demands, eyes wide.

Babe’s mouth quirks sideways, an easy confidence taking over his posture. “What can I say?” he shrugs. “I’m out of practice.”

With that, he turns on his heel and strides out of the room. “Challenge accepted, by the way!” he calls over his shoulder. “We’ll see how many people I can kiss!”

He pretends he doesn’t hear the smack of a palm against someone’s forehead, and Spina’s muttered “Jesus” as he makes his way out of the house.

He knows he’s not going to have such an easy time with the next one. He might have been able to wow Spina, but it’s true that he’s out of practice. While his friend’s reaction suggests he has nothing to worry about, Babe still wants to know what he’s doing.

There are probably other people he could ask, but if he’s going off of experience alone, he can think of no one on earth who’s kissed more people than Floyd Talbert.

“You -- you want me?” Tab looks unexpectedly nervous after Babe’s pitch. His hands dig into the knees of his jeans; he looks like he’s not sure whether to laugh or stare.

“Just to teach me. Show me what I’m doing and all that. Nothing personal!”

Babe sits himself down on the bench across from Tab, swinging one leg over to face him. Just behind Tab’s shoulder, Shifty wears a frown on his face. That he’s being silent is not a surprise, but Shifty doesn’t often look troubled by many things. Babe isn’t sure what to think of the expression on his friend’s face now, but it is almost enough to give him pause.

(Does Shifty want Babe to kiss him too? Or is he just upset that Babe’s interrupted their afternoon? Shifty and Tab looked very comfortable together on the bench when Babe spotted them. Shifty had been leaning into Tab’s side as he showed him something on his phone, and they seemed like the picture of good friends. Babe hopes he hasn’t intruded on them hanging out.)

The look on Shifty’s face is almost enough to make him reconsider, but Tab rallies. He takes a deep breath, draws his shoulders up, then turns to his friend.

“I,” he says. “If you don’t want -- do you mind, or --”

Shifty hastily holds up his hands. “No, no, it’s fine.”

“Okay. Great.”

Tab wipes his palms on his knees as he spins back to face Babe. Something about this seems off. Maybe it's the glimmer of nervousness in Tab’s eyes (when has Floyd Talbert ever been nervous about kissing someone); maybe it’s the terse set to Shifty’s jaw; maybe it's just the growing feeling that he's intruding on something he really shouldn't be intruding on. Babe doesn't know, but a part of him regrets kissing Tab and he hasn't even started yet.

“Uhh,” he says as Tab leans in a bit. “Are you -- you sure you know what you're doing --”

“Don't worry,” Shifty pipes up. “He does.” Then Tab’s face flares red, and so does Shifty’s -- and, hell, so does Babe, and he's not even sure why.

Tab bites on his lower lip and squares himself before huffing out an exhale. “Aww hell, Babe, just do it.”

That's all Babe needs to hear. He doesn't hesitate before leaning in and pressing his lips to Tab’s.

It's… not what he expected. He's seen Talbert kiss -- he's seen the heat, the fire, the intensity he can bring to any liplock. The guy is practically a kissing pro, so there’s no reason macking on him should be like liplocking with a dead fish. It is, however. Tab doesn't move, doesn't reciprocate, barely even breathes.

Babe takes notes anyway. He observes the casual positioning of Tab’s body, the way he lets his breathing shallow just so. He notes the movement of his lips, the subtle pressure put into the kiss. It’s all very scientific. Definitely not what Babe was expecting, but he isn’t complaining.

When Talbert pulls back (sooner than Babe expected), he looks like he’s just been stung by a bee. Babe really hopes that’s not the sort of reaction his kiss elicits out of people; his worry must show, because Tab scrambles to reassure him.

“That was good. Great job, Babe, you’ve really… got the hang of it. You satisfied?”

There’s something a little stressed out in his voice, an edge Babe can’t place. He nods, because it’s not a lie, and seems like the right thing to do. Then his eyes flicker back towards Shifty.

It’s like a tiny piece of the world slips out of alignment -- like suddenly the sky is green instead of blue, or a dinosaur pops out of the ground. Babe’s stomach plunges to his feet, while his heart leaps into his throat. An icy chill runs down his spine.

He’s never seen Shifty look angry before. He’s definitely never seen him look like this -- a single stone’s throw away from his eyes going black and starting to scream demonic curses. It’s terrifying. In that moment Babe does not see Shifty, the mild-mannered guy who sits next to him in Philosophy. He sees the same kid who was raised in the Virginia backwoods, and once shot an apple off Hoobler’s head from across the room.

He is seized with the sudden fear that Shifty might carry a gun on him at all times, and in two seconds that gun might be trained on him.

“Uhh, yeah! Sure! Thanks, buddy!” Babe leaps to his feet, hastily clapping Tab on the shoulder. “Sorry for interrupting your guy time, I’ll just go now.”

Talbert says nothing. He still looks a little mortified by the whole ordeal. It’s Shifty who offers him a sweet-as-honey smile and says, “See you around, Babe.”

He has no clue what just happened, but Babe can’t leave them alone fast enough.

Babe’s got his pride, sure; but when put in retrospect, he also has a limited pool of friends. Good friends are hard to come by. Friends you wouldn't mind kissing are even moreso. Friends he'd both be willing to kiss and trust with his life are in short supply, and Julian just barely qualifies for both categories.

If only he'd stop being so stubborn about it.

“Screw off!” Julian hollers, and Babe ducks a pillow aimed at his head. “I ain't kissin’ you!”

Julian’s throaty Alabama twang is leaking into his Philly accent, the way it always does when he's agitated. It makes him kind of sound like he's been gurgling molasses and glass. It's terrifying, and Babe’s lucky he can understand a word he says.

“Don't be like that.” He catches the next pillow that sails at him as Julian ducks behind the couch. “Jules, come on. There's no running away from this.”

“The hell there isn't! You watch me!”

Babe is watching; he wishes he weren't. “Julian.”

He can see his friend’s shadow as he shuffles along the floor. He looks like a baby just getting the hang of crawling. It's a little pathetic. When he takes a step forward, a sneaker comes flying at his head.

“Jules, I'm going to get you!”

“That's a threat! You're threatening me!” Julian hollers back. Babe rolls his eyes.

He studies his friend’s shadow as Julian slowly raises himself into a crouch. He can hear heavy breathing from behind his sanctuary, can see the erratic rhythm of Julian’s shoulders. He counts down the seconds in his head: three… two… one…

Julian sprints, but Babe is ready. He launches himself over the couch, tackling Julian and getting his arms around his shoulders. Julian doesn't go down, but Babe forces him away from the door. He tries to pin Julian against the couch, but Julian just topples backwards, and the both go head over heels.

When Babe gets his bearings again, he's lying on the couch. Julian is pinned under him, looking simultaneously pissed off and defeated.

Babe smirks. “I win.”

It takes a few seconds for Julian to break, but Babe sees the moment he does. The last of the fight drains out of him, and he sighs like Babe’s lips are the greatest imposition ever forced upon him. “Fine,” he mutters. “Lay it on me.”

So, Babe does.

Julian tastes like the coke he was drinking just before Babe ambushed him. His lips are chapped and chewed; he’s holding his breath, his entire body frozen in uncertainty. Has Julian ever kissed anyone before? Babe is pretty sure he has (he has to have, right?) but the lingering uncertainty only fuels his determination to make this kiss count.

He leans into Julian a bit more, deepening the kiss, and allows his tongue to brush against his friend’s lips. Julian lets out a tiny gasp, mouth parting of its own accord, and his fingers dig into Babe’s shoulders. He pulls him closer.

It doesn’t take Babe long to find his rhythm. Kissing, he’s starting to learn, is all about keeping in tune with the other person. It’s like dancing, and he’s one hell of a good dancer, so this is no different. He moves against Julian’s mouth, pressing and lightening at every indication from Julian’s eager lips. He’s not trying to overwhelm his friend, but it’s obvious that Julian’s getting too eager from the way he leans up even when Babe starts to pull back.

Babe presses him back down, breaking away. “Jules,” he huffs, looking into his friend’s dazed face. “Easy. Take it easy.”

He matches his breathing with Julian’s, helping his friend calm his ragged pants. Slowly Julian returns to his senses. “Oh my god,” he murmurs when he’s able to talk again. His head dips back against the couch, and he squeezes his eyes shut.

Babe isn’t sure what he did, but he’s pretty positive he broke him. “Uhh… Jules?”

“Get off me, Babe,” Julian tells him, so that’s what Babe does.

“So, this is a dare, right?”

Babe shrugs, taking a long sip of his beer before setting it down on the table again. “Something like that. I guess. It's hard to explain, ya know?”

Grant hums in agreement, while Liebgott snorts into his own drink. “Oh yeah. Yup. Real rocket science.”

“I'm just amazed he's gotten so many people to kiss him this far,” Liebgott drawls, leaning in with that all-too-familiar smirk on his face. “Spina? Julian? I can see them, but Talbert while he was on a date? That takes some balls.”

It takes Babe a second to process this. He blinks, not quite understanding what Liebgott is saying, until he remembers the dark look in Shifty’s eyes, and the radiating anxiety of Talbert. Oh, he thinks to himself. Realization drops onto his head like an anvil. Huh. That makes sense.

“What a legend,” agrees Grant. “You're really proving your point.”

Babe glares into his beer. He needs better friends. “I guess.”

He doesn’t see Grant and Liebgott exchange glances, but he can imagine it. He knows how his friends’ brains work. They have the same brand of semi-malicious deviousness (which Liebgott conceals beneath hard-shelled sarcasm, and Grant with smooth charisma) that comes out at the worst times. Babe has his own wicked streak, which is probably why they all get along so well.

He knows his friends are planning something as soon as Liebgott gets out of his seat and swings around to Babe’s side of the booth. Babe allows it, raising an eyebrow at his friend. Liebgott only smirks, resting his chin on his hand.

“So?” he says. “Show me what you got.”

“What? No.” Babe doesn’t know why he wasn’t expecting this, but… it’s not happening. Liebgott is an attractive guy, to be sure (almost painfully attractive, with smooth skin, high cheekbones, and hair to die for) but that doesn’t mean Babe wants to put his lips on his friend. Kissing Liebgott and Grant, he feels, is crossing a line that doesn’t exist with the guys he’s been friends with all his life. With Bill and Julian, there are no boundaries. With his college friends, however --

“Babe.” Liebgott is closer now, near enough that Babe’s vision is filled with his plump red lips. It would be so easy to just lean in…

“Do it,” Liebgott whispers, and so Babe does.

Unlike everyone else, Liebgott is ready, experienced, and eager. As soon as Babe’s lips are on his, he feels a hand sneak up to cup the back of his neck. Not to be outdone, Babe kisses deeper and sucks a bit of Liebgott’s bottom lip into his mouth. He feels the other man huff against him, a small satisfied noise escaping Liebgott’s throat.

He’s not sure why he didn’t think Liebgott would be an aggressive kisser, but he is. Teeth nip at Babe’s lips. Liebgott sucks, ambitious and determined, unafraid to get close. By the time  they part for air Babe is breathless for a different reason. He’s not certain whether he was kissing Liebgott, or Liebgott was kissing him.

His friend offers him a tiny smirk, and Babe forces himself to breathe. What the hell was that?

“No need to look so shocked,” Grant chimes, sounding thrilled. When Babe looks up at him, he sees his friend is watching him with a glint in his eye. “My turn.”

“You’re kidding me,” Babe says -- and that’s all he has time to say, because suddenly Grant is sitting on the other side of him, and Liebgott is watching them both expectantly.

Babe has two options here. He could put a stop to all of this, here and now; or he could roll with it.

Ahh, what the hell? Any damage has already been done. How much worse can it get from here?

“I’m choosing to believe you guys are just trying to be helpful friends,” Babe tells them; then he grabs Grant by the front of his shirt and pulls him forward to kiss him.

Kissing Grant is sweeter than kissing Liebgott, but twice as sensual. He’s certainly not shy. After a few seconds of Babe’s lips moving against his, Grant places his hands on Babe’s elbows and guides him along, pulling him closer. This time Babe is the one to feel a tongue brush against his lips, and he can’t help the soft moan that leaves him.

When Grant pulls away, Babe feels a little dizzy, but he still manages to smile. “Real helpful,” he echoes, and Grant huffs out a throaty chuckle.

“You’re one hell of a kisser, Heffron,” he tells him. “Too bad I’m better.”

That’s when Babe has to pull away and down the rest of his drink, because he feels a little like he’s burning up. That’s definitely not a feeling he should be getting from his friends, and he doesn’t want to think too deep into it, so he drains the rest of his (mostly full) glass before slamming it down on the table.

“Okay. Uhh. Anyone feel like darts?”

“Sounds good,” Grant says, and finishes off his shot. Liebgott is already out of his seat and walking towards the dartboard.

They don’t mention it for the rest of the night.

After Doris and all she entailed, Babe made a very solemn vow to himself. Girls were not for him. Dating girls was not his thing; touching them was not up his alley; kissing them was not a thing he wanted to do. After Doris, he swore he would never kiss another girl again.

He has no desire to. He has no reason to.

Frannie Peca is very good at giving people reasons to do things.

“Come on,” she coaxes, inching closer to Babe on the sofa. He, in turn, scoots further back. “It doesn't mean anything! Geez, Babe, of course not! Bill and I are practically married. I just can't stand the thought of you being… you know, being --”

“Scarred?” Babe volunteers. “Haunted?”

Fran snaps her fingers. “Exactly. Whatever that girl did to you, you've gotta know that there's more to kissing girls than… that.”

Babe takes a deep breath. Never again, echoes a voice in the back of his mind. He doesn't know how to express his resolution to Fran without sounding pathetic, though, so he just frowns. Of course kissing Fran wouldn't mean anything -- hell, she’s practically his sister -- but kissing her sounds as appealing as putting his lips on a fish.

(He’s seen the way she and Bill make out. It’s like two wild animals trying to gnaw each others’ faces off. Babe doesn’t want to get anywhere near that.)

“Frannie,” he says, “I like you, I appreciate you, and I know you’d kill a man for me. I just don't trust that you won't try to eat me.”

Fran looks like she wants to laugh out loud. Instead she tilts her head, sending Babe a cool look. “‘I could kiss everyone in this room,’” she sings out, pitching her voice in an (alarmingly accurate) impression of Babe. He can't help wincing.

He did say that. He remembers those words coming out of his mouth like it was yesterday, and he meant it, too. Of all the ways to cap off his kissing marathon, macking one on the girlfriend of the guy who dared him in the first place seems like as good a finale as any.

“Jesus,” he sighs, then leans in. “Fine. Pucker up, Frannie.”

“That's the least romantic thing you could ever say before kissing someone --” Fran comments, because she's just as bad as Bill at shutting her mouth. Babe does it for her, cutting her off by cupping the back of her neck in his hand and pulling her forward. She doesn't get the chance to squeal in surprise; a second later, Babe’s lips are pressed against hers.

Frannie isn’t a bad kisser, Babe will give her that. She’s also not over-aggressive. She knows where Babe’s boundaries are, and she’s mindful not to cross them. She lets him take the lead, kissing back only when she feels him kiss her. Babe’s jaw is tight with tension until a manicured hand comes up to slowly massage it.

He’s more concerned about the lipstick he’s probably getting on his face than his body’s (expected, at this point) lack of physical reaction. When Fran breaks away from him, there’s an inquiring look in her eyes. Babe licks his lips and shrugs.

“Okay, I give,” he says. “You’re a better kisser than Doris.”

“You better believe it,” Fran retorts, sounding delighted.

That would and should have been the end of it -- but at that moment, the door had to slam open. Bill takes two steps in the room and stops cold. He takes in Babe’s lipstick-covered face, his girlfriend’s hand still lingering on top of Babe’s own, and his eyes go huge.

“Yo,” says Babe.

Bill charges at him.

“THE ONE GUY,” he hollers as he pursues Babe around the room like an incensed bull. “THE ONE GUY I DIDN’T HAVE TO FUCKIN’ WORRY ABOUT!”

“Bill, for fuck’s sake, sit down,” Fran snaps, leaning back against the sofa.

“I’LL WRING YOUR SCRAWNY GINGER NECK!”

Babe can’t say anything, because he’s too busy running for dear life. He’s gone up against a livid Bill before, and knows the odds are not in his favor. Also, Bill protecting Frannie is like Angry Bill times five, so his threats to kill him might very well be serious.

“Jesus -- christ --” he shouts over his shoulder as he sprints up the stairs. “Bill, it was for the contest, you know I wouldn’t --”

“YOU KISSED MY GIRL FOR THE STUPID CONTEST?”

Admittedly, Babe’s judgement may have been flawed.

He makes it up the stairs with Bill three feet behind him, and sprints for his room. If he can just get the door closed and locked, he’ll be safe. He’ll jump out the window if he has to, but at least he won’t face death at the hands of charging Bill --

They’re always telling Julian to get his sneakers out of the damn hallway, and Julian never listens. Julian really should listen.

Babe goes down like a ton of bricks, and the last thing he sees is a doorknob rushing towards his face.

When he opens his eyes again, he’s in the backseat of Fran’s car, and the first thing he sees is blood in his hair. He makes a noise like a startled cat, and tries to sit up, only for a pair of hands to gently hold him still.

“Easy,” says a voice that Babe’s fuzzy mind takes a moment to recognize as his best friend’s. “You’re fine, Babe. Just don’t move.”

Babe blinks up at Bill, who’s two shades of pale as he cradles his head in his lap. He offers what he hopes is an apologetic smile. “It didn’t mean a thing,” he says. “It was just the dare. Sorry, buddy.”

Bill huffs out a strained laugh, and shakes his head. “Shut up, Heffron. I know. It’s okay, I know.”

At this point, Babe is a regular face at the local emergency clinic. He comes in often enough with various injuries, ranging from drunken accidents, ill-advised consumption of dubious foods, to regular old clumsiness. Bill has driven him to the hospital bleeding enough times that he’s stopped warning Babe not to get blood all over his car. (“I swear to god,” he muttered a few medical bills ago, “those nurses are gonna think we’re all knocking ya around or somethin’.”)

On the contrary, the nurses at the clinic all know Babe at this point, and like him. When he stumbles through the doors this time, Bill supporting him as he holds a towel full of ice to his forehead, Anna looks up from her desk and smiles her exasperated smile at him.

“What is it this time, Babe?” she asks. “Did you fall out a window? Slip at the pool?”

Babe shakes his head, ignoring how woozy it makes him feel. “Anna, you wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

Renee is the one who shows him to his bed and takes his vitals, so she gets the full story. When Babe gets to the part about the sneakers, she clicks her tongue. She also doesn’t look surprised, and Babe’s not sure what that says about him.

“Doctor Roe will be here in a moment,” she tells him, giving him a fond pat on the shoulder after adjusting the pillow beneath his head. “Try not to injure anything else while you wait.”

Babe rolls his eyes, then regrets it, because that actually hurts. “Thanks for the vote of confidence,” he replies, and Renee grins at him.

Once he's finally left alone (Bill and Fran, both used to the “get Babe to the hospital” drill by now, have gone to the smoothie place down the street -- because they're  supportive friends) Babe leans back against the pillow and allows himself to grin. Gene Roe is his favorite doctor, and one of his favorite people in general. He's stitched Babe up enough times that he could practically recite Babe’s entire medical history, yet he still insists on calling him Edward. He has a quiet, understated sense of humor, and a smile just as delightful. Babe has never seen steamer hands or kinder eyes. He's never met anyone like Gene Roe.

(So he's completely in love with his doctor. Sue him. He's here enough, he thinks he has the right.)

He's not really looking forward to telling Doc Roe this story, however. Roe already thinks he's kind of an idiot, but this will really be the nail in his coffin.

When the doctor walks in, wearing his crisp white lab coat and dark shadows under his eyes, Babe perks up. Roe looks him over and sighs, utterly unsurprised.

“I was hoping we wouldn't have to see you back here for awhile,” says Roe, setting down Babe’s chart.

“Aww, come on, Gene. You know I'm you favorite patient.”

“Most frequent patient,” Roe corrects, but he has a tiny smile on his lips. “What did you in today, Edward?”

Babe offers a sheepish smile. “Doc,” he says, “would you believe me if I told you this was all for a stupid dare?”

To his credit, Roe doesn't look fazed. Babe often wonders how often he hears this type of thing, or if he's just one of those people who nothing can get to. Either way, the slightly quirk of his eyebrows makes Babe fall even more in love.

“That so? What sort of dare is this?”

“A kissing dare.” Babe can't keep the boast out of his voice. “Friend of mine bet me I couldn't get a buncha people to kiss me. I told him I could. It was all going great for a while, too.”

“Lemme guess. Until you kissed his girlfriend.”

Babe can't help chuckling, a little embarrassed. “How'd you know?”

As Roe spreads the numbing alcohol over the cut in Babe’s temple, he huffs out what could almost be called a laugh. “I’ve got a sixth sense for these things, Heffron. Plus, you’re not hard to figure out.”

What does that mean? Surely Roe doesn’t think he’s the type of guy to go around kissing other people’s girlfriends. That’s so far from Babe that they’re not even on the same level. “Aww, come on, Gene. It wasn’t like that. I’m not like that, believe me.”

He doesn’t wince at the feeling of the needle entering his skin. He’s too focused on the way Roe’s eyebrow quirks, as if Babe has just handed him a very interesting piece of information and he’s struggling to decide what to make of it.

“Not like that…” he echoes, and Babe huffs a breath.

“I like guys, for one. Plus, I’d never do anything like that to anyone. I’m a hell of a lot of things, but no one’ll say I ain’t loyal.”

This is not a conversation they’ve had before. For as many times as Babe has bantered with Gene, has admired him, has soaked up every bit of information he could learn about this enigmatic doctor -- he never shared this piece of himself.

He’s a little surprised at how interested Gene looks now. Almost... happy.

Gene doesn’t say another word for a long moment. There is only the sting of the needle stitching Babe’s skin, and Babe’s eyes boring into the doctor’s face. Only after Gene is done and has clipped the stitch does he say, “I know you’re loyal. I can tell that much.”

“I thought you had a sixth sense,” Babe jokes, and Gene huffs a small laugh.

“I don’t know what I’ve got,” he answers, and sets the needle aside. “So. Did it count?” When Babe raises his eyebrows, Gene shrugs. “The kiss. Did it count, even though she was Bill’s girlfriend? Or did it count, even though she was a girl?”

Babe feels a spark of something inside of him -- something crazy, hopeful, a little delirious. It might be that concussion talking, but he has the sudden image of Gene’s lips pressed to his, and feels a surge of bravery he didn’t know he had.

“I guess not,” he says. “I need one more kiss, then.”

Gene’s eyes come to rest on him. Babe stares back, calm despite the fireworks in his stomach.

When Gene sits down next to him on the bed, Babe feels almost giddy. “Let me get a look at that cut, Heffron.”

Gene’s fingers brush across his skin, leaving electricity in their wake. He is close, close enough that all it would take is to lean in a little bit, and Babe wants to but he’s also terrified.

“Gene,” he whispers. “Can I…”

Gene swallows. His head bobs, just the slightest bit, and Babe closes the distance between them.

He’s imagined kissing Gene (an embarrassing amount of times before), but no fantasy holds a candle to the real thing. Gene’s kiss is slow and soft, just enough to leave Babe yearning for more. When he presses further, determined to kiss Gene like he’s never been kissed before, a spark seems to pass between them; and suddenly Babe can’t get enough.

He grips Gene by the elbows, pulling him close. In response, Gene wraps his arms around Babe’s shoulders and leans in. At the same time, Babe’s lower lip is sucked into Gene’s mouth, and a rush of euphoria bursts inside of him. He can’t help but groan against Gene’s lips, and this only spurs the other man on.

By the time Gene’s tongue is in his mouth, Babe’s head is spinning. He can’t breathe; he couldn’t think, even if he wanted to. All he feels, all he wants to feel, is Gene, and dear god, Gene is perfect.

When they part for breath, the world spins around them both. Gene’s exhales are ragged; every rush of air in Babe’s lungs makes him feel like he’s drowning. His eyes are full of Gene’s own dark pools, his skin is electric from his touch, and he can’t quite remember who he is.

Slowly, slowly, Gene leans back. He’s smiling.

“You get extra points if you get someone’s number, too?”

And Babe doesn't know what to say, feels kind of like he’s been struck by lightning, so all he's able to do is not. “Yeah,” he croaks out. “Totally.”

Gene -- so handsome, so kissable Gene-- smiles and pulls out a pen. Babe barely has the chance to register what’s happening as the felt tip scrawls a series of numbers across the back of his hand before being recapped with a satisfying clink.

Gene nods to himself, approving his own work. He studies Babe’s hand, then his face, and a small smile quirks his lips. “That shouldn’t scar. Take it easy for a few days, just in case you do have a small concussion, but you seem alright. Don’t go tripping over any more shoes.”

Babe swallows. “I’ll do my best, Gene.”

With one last cryptic smile, Gene leaves him alone in the room. Babe takes a moment to catch his breath before slumping forward, pressing a hand to the uninjured side of his face.

He knows two things for sure: this ordeal is well-and-truly over; and that was the best dare he’s ever taken.

(Three things, he reconsiders as he enters Gene Roe’s number into his phone. He’s definitely going to stop visiting the clinic so much, because he’s got a funny feeling his doctor is up for house calls.)

[dangerouslyfreesoul]

Internet as our world.

Why am I using the Internet?

-          Using the internet nowadays is something that is a part of everyone’s everyday routine. For myself, I use internet for many reasons. I use it as a past-time during my vacant time at home or somewhere it keeps me entertained in lackluster situations. I also use it as a remedy during my stressful times at school, at home or when I’m facing tough situations. It is also an effective apparatus for school, I use it for researching or discussing projects with my classmates and finally the most common reason why is for communication, it is the main place where we can reach other people.

 Why can’t the people live without Internet nowadays?

 -          The internet is a big place that offers you almost every single thing in the world and that intelligent product is just right at our fingertips. People wouldn’t let go of this smart thing for same reasons I have.  The Internet is a big ball of information that expanded through time. It is also a form of communication for people, it is a more affordable alternative than the traditional forms of communication. It is now used for education and jobs. The world adapted the internet and world work with the internet and that is one of the main reasons why people can’t live without internet. They have the fear of disconnection from a world linked by the internet.

 How many Filipinos have access to the internet?

-          Based on the DIGITAL IN 2017 survey, the Philippines, about 60 million or 58% of the total population have access to the internet. The report said the number of internet users in the Philippines has grown by 27% in the past 12 months. The title of  the highest hours of usage of the internet in the world was won by the Philippines for 8 hours and 59 minutes every day on average

What are facts and evidences on number of Filipinos using it?

Here are some pieces of evidence that I have gathered from the web:

The Philippines, specifically has over 44.2 million users, the second highest ranking in Southeast Asia and the 6th in the whole of Asia. The population is forecasted to double by 2016, according to Julian Persaud, former Google Managing Director in Southeast Asia. The Philippines, specifically has over 44.2 million users, the second highest ranking in Southeast Asia and the 6th in the whole of Asia. The population is forecasted to double by 2016, according to Julian Persaud, former Google Managing Director in Southeast Asia.

Based on a survey the total number of mobile subscription in our country with all companies combined is 119.2 million, it's 117% of the total Philippine population. The Philippines was also reported to top the list of countries with the maximum time spent on social media every day.

How has the internet affected the lifestyle of the Filipinos?

-          The Internet has affected the Filipino lifestyle in both good and bad terms. Long before the internet existed, our ancestors are really just locals of the Philippines, everything that we know are just the tips of the ice burg. The Philippines depend on local jobs and local ways to live through their lifetimes.The Philippines and its people were isolated from the growing connection of the world.But after the internet existed in the Philippines a massive change happened, it may seem unfamiliar and new to the Filipinos but, we have lived through it. And now, Internet has become the source of our everything. Filipinos use Internet almost any time, May it be morning, night or dawn. Filipinos are now so attached to the internet that they can’t leave it off for even a minute or so. We use it for communication, searching jobs, improving our livelihoods and more.

The internet has made the Filipino people more connected than before but, also made them lazier and mean. The Filipinos have developed bad attitudes from the internet (ex. Bashing, Blackmailing..)  

 Having been hooked on social networks. what are their implications to Filipinos? what are the advantages and disadvantages?

 -          Clearly, the world has been invaded by the social networks, and based on surveys Filipinos are the most active on it. This suggests that Filipinos love to be connected. No one wants to be disconnected to the growing world. Filipinos love to be updated with all the world’s current events and gossips. The advantages of this would be the connectivity. People who use social networks are more connected to others than usual, they interact via comments or sharing. People are also informed with real-time information by important events that are currently happening and fused with revised information to renew their knowledge about certain things. But, its disadvantages are as wide as its advantages. The social network is eating the time of some people, it is a form of distraction to many. It is one of the factors that keep people procrastinating. It is also one of the main molders of the personality of the users, it is contributing many negative behaviors to its young and adult users (ex. Bashing, hate, foul speaking)

  What ethical and unethical traits emerged due to the use of the Internet?

-          “Ethics is knowing the difference between what you have a right to do and what is right to do” - Potter Howard.

In this world that we are currently living, every individual has a set of ethics that they need to follow everywhere may it be at home, work or even school. But, one of the chief branch of ethics that many people tend to forget are the ethics in the world of internet or the Computer Ethics. People have forgotten that ethics exist on the internet because they believe that the internet is vast and offers them anonymity to the public eye making them powerful and at liberty. Although many politicians and powerful identities wanted to censor the internet world, it is almost an impossible thing to do. The internet has now developed big unethical ways, one of the biggest problems that many are currently dealing with is the Identity Theft. Some users are using other user’s identities in order to take advantage of others. They fool them and scam them with the use of other’s faces. That may harm both the lives of the person they are fooling and the real owner of the identity. Another example is the Digital Plagiarism, many students in our day are now, stealing home works, research and other academic works claiming it as theirs. Some are also stealing works of others and also claiming it as theirs and sometimes even making a fortune out of it. Which makes it greatly unfair for the respective owners.

 What is the original purpose of the inventor of the Internet? Of social networks?

-          There was no known inventor for the internet.but, the original purpose of the internet is for the military computers in the Pentagon  ARPANET (Advanced Research Projects Agency Network). It was developed in order to send communication between separate computer systems at various universities and research laboratories. It was to make their exchange more convenient during the cold war. Then, from that phase on, it evolved as to what we are using now, a tool for connection and information.

What is the purpose of Facebook? What was Mark Zuckerberg’s purpose when he invented it?

Quoting Mr. Zuckerburg’s words from his open letter.

“When I made Facebook two years ago my goal was to help people understand what was going on in their world a little better. I wanted to create an environment where people could share whatever information they wanted, but also have control over whom they shared that information with. I think a lot of the success we've seen is because of these basic principles. We made the site so that all of our members are a part of smaller networks like schools, companies or regions, so you can only see the profiles of people who are in your networks and your friends. We did this to make sure you could share information with the people you care about."

Mr.Zuckerburg wanted to make the information accessible to his colleagues and other co-students all around the world that’s why he and his friends created FACEBOOK that many people are using and enjoying now.

PS: The photos used above are not mine, they belong to their respective owners.

[magicallibary]

Gleaming in Excitement

A/N: Hello! Honestly, I had to search for the spirit animals for a quite a while but, I’m still not sure if the traits are correct, so sorry about that. Anyway, I hope you enjoy reading! 

Word Count: 1658 Words  Warnings: Nope :)

Summary: Elizabeth’s brother used to tell her amazing fictional stories when they were both younger. But, now that they’re older they find that one of those stories was more than just a tale.

Elizabeth Sarah Robison has always looked outside through her window, every night, not looking for anything in particular. She started doing this at a very young age- she was between five and seven years old- yet she never stopped, not even now at her 26 years of age. The red-haired girl didn’t have a clear reason for watching the dim, empty streets late at night: maybe she secretly found it therapeutic, or perhaps somewhere deep inside her she still believed the stories about magical creatures that showed during the night her older brother used to tell her.

She always remembers him. Lucian Mason Robison, her older brother. Elizabeth would always remember the short fictional stories he would tell her, no matter how stressful everything around the family was, even when their mother left them all those years ago, Lucian always had a fun story writing itself in his brilliant mind. The one that had planted itself in Elizabeth’s mind was the one about the ‘Gleams,’ as he called them.

Elizabeth could remember the excitement she felt as she took in her brother’s words. Lucian could remember how his sister’s dark, black eyes found themselves gleaming in excitement, waiting for him to continue. Something about creatures that came from the stars made the siblings share a moment of pure happiness. They could both remember when they both thought the Gleams had no real shape, when they thought the beings were simply messy, glowing entities. Then, the Gleams developed a shape inside the sibling’s heads: the spirit animal of who they hunted. Yes, hunted. The one thing about the Gleams that remained constant in their imagination was that they hunted human’s creativity through their dreams. They seemed trustworthy enough because of their unnatural beauty and their ability to implant themselves as a human’s most wanted dream inside anyone’s mind.

But, of course, Gleams were fictional.

Still though, Elizabeth always swore that she could sometimes see the figures of glowing animals in the dark, and for some reason, she was never scared. Maybe it was because she was convinced Gleams were fictional; she didn’t understand and neither did Lucian.

One Christmas, a few years ago, Elizabeth had told her older brother about her fantasies. The red-head remembered how much she panicked, how she thought he might laugh about how child-like she was being, how she thought he might make fun of her or tell others about that and yet, he didn’t. He listened and understood. In fact, somewhere deep inside him he felt extremely honored and flattered to hear that his sister still remembered one of his silly stories, even now, that they were both adults. Julian also remembers hesitantly asking Elizabeth if she was scared and feeling his body being washed by a wave of relief when she said she wasn’t. He also remembers how before he went to bed every night since that conversation and thought about Elizabeth looking out her window when she couldn’t sleep and thinking back to their shared childhood.

Tonight was one of those sleepless nights.

Elizabeth sat by her huge bedroom window, the digital clock marking the upcoming four in the morning. Her strawberry hair loosely tied in a lazy pony tail and her black eyes were filled with the reflection of stars making them look like a galaxy in the middle of space as she scanned the empty street, peacefully. Her light skin seemed to shimmer in the soft glow of the moon as her thin fingers felt the texture of the wooden desk by the transparent surface in the wall. She had memorized every tree, every building silhouette and every street lamp so she simply allowed her mind to wander off. Normally, that wandering made Elizabeth find herself in a path of childhood memories and that’s exactly where she was now.

She carefully opened the beautiful painted door in her mind, walking into a fond or perhaps sad memory.

“So, if the Gleams take the shape of your spirit animal, what animal would my Gleam be?” A young, eight-year-old Elizabeth asked her eleven-year-old brother.

His dark eyes blinked rapidly as he thought carefully about his sister’s question, trying to find a satisfying answer.

“I think I could see yours being a monkey.” He answered.

“A monkey?” She asked, an almost offended tone in her sweet voice. “Why?”

“What’s wrong with a monkey? They’re playful, charming and bold. You’re all those things!”

They both shared a laugh.

“I always saw yours as a hummingbird,” the girl began as the laughter died down “I guess it’s because of how adaptable you are or how social yet independent you are.”

“Oh, Beth,” the older sibling sighed, a pink glow shimmering by his cheeks.

“Or maybe you just wear too much blue.” She joked, a smirk rising on her face.

“Come on!” He exclaimed, jokingly annoyed. “I thought you were actually being nice!”

“I love you, Ju!” She told him through her giggles.

“Me too, you little pain.” He told her through his own laughter.

Elizabeth smiled at the memory, her eyes closing for a moment. As her black eyes opened she focused on the scenery before her once again, she quickly noticed how everything seemed brighter than it was before. She took a glance at her clock which showed her that it was only twenty minutes past four. The sun wasn’t going to come up for at least a few hours so, if that was true, why was it suddenly so much brighter?

Elizabeth glanced up at the sky, taking in its still dark color and still shining stars. She looked around the area a bit more trying to find a reason for the light change, with no success. After a while, she dismissed it as her eyes playing a trick on her. Maybe it was her imagination or maybe her eyes were finally learning how to adapt to dark places. At least that’s what she told herself.

She began to notice how different the street looked with the sudden, unexplained light change. Everything seemed to change even though nothing really had; everything was still there. The trees, the silhouettes and the street lamps were all still exactly where she had memorized them to be and, yet, she still felt like she had to memorize them all over again. It just looked so different.

As she scanned the new-looking scenery, a soft glow by the corner of her eye caught her attention. She quickly focused all her attention on the exact spot where she had seen the completely new glow, only to find absolutely nothing. Her eyebrows came closer together as her eyes squinted at the seemingly empty spot, confusion bubbling inside of her. Without warning, Elizabeth suddenly felt a cold find flow behind her. The sudden breeze made the hairs on her exposed neck to rise up a cold shiver running through her spine. She quickly turned around only to close her eyes at the sudden bright light, a gasp leaving her lips in surprise.

She slowly opened her eyes once again and when she did another, louder gasp escaped from her.

She moved her head around, closing and reopening her eyes over and over again, but what she was seeing never seemed to disappear. Her thoughts began running as she became unable to finish a single thought, every thought ending before it even began. Was she finally going mad?

After a few minutes of denial, she finally slowly opened her eyes analyzing the apparently real entity. The figure of a monkey stared back at her, but it wasn’t a regular monkey. Instead of soft brown, ginger or black fur a glowing light blue or maybe even white light made its form. Some parts of his shape were different tones of blue making it appear like the animal had shadows and bright spots, but, really, it seemed to be made of actual light. Of course, one thought came across louder than all others inside Elizabeth’s head.

Was this a Gleam?

But, obviously, she thought that was ridiculous, even though it seemed logical enough. Gleams are fictional, she kept telling herself. But what if they weren’t?

Only one way to find out.

“Hello,” she whispered, nervously “everything alright?”

The glowing monkey did nothing but take a few, hesitant steps closer to her.

“Are you here to hurt me?” He slowly moved his head to answer ‘no.’ “Alright.”

She lowered herself to the cold floor, kneeling a few steps away from the glowing being. She slowly raised one of her pale hands towards them, carefully reaching towards them. The monkey walked closer to her, placing its head on her hand.

Elizabeth felt a burst of surprised happiness as she felt fur in between her fingers. Of course, there was still a thought flowing at the back of her mind, telling her that this was just a dream, but, as the star-like creature walked closer to her small figure and placed itself near her leg and got comfortable, she wished for it all to be real.

She noticed how the animal seemed to be almost asleep and began reaching for her phone, the other hand running through the invisible fur. She thought about calling her brother, but she didn't have to think about too much, not when his name appeared on her phone’s screen. She quickly answered.

“You’re not going to believe this,” Julian’s whispering voice came through the phone “I just- I- I just saw-”

He struggled to form a sentence, but, that was enough for Elizabeth to guess what he had seen.

“Did you see-” She began before getting cut off.

“Yes,” he interrupted “D-Did you?”

“Yes.” She answered, unable to say more.

“And they were nice?”

“They were nice.”

“They were nice…” He whispered in thought, Elizabeth hummed in agreement.

“They were nice!” Julian exclaimed quietly, before they both shared a quiet and yet extremely happy laugh, both of the siblings gleaming with excitement.  

[panoramicdiary]

Rap is Crap

For many within the conservative movement, rap is a uniformly negative reflection of the worst ills and excesses of society. It romanticizing everything wrong with the way society is headed, and the more hard-lined who hold this view believe it isn’t even music in the first place. This line of reasoning is frequently and most notably echoed by the leading figure of the conservative movement, Ben Shapiro.

Shapiro has commented on rap on a number of occasions, but he published an article that neatly summarizes his position on this cultural force. Titled ‘Rap is Crap,’ it’s a phrase every conservative who reflexively mocks rap has at one point thoughtlessly sputtered. It’s thoughtless not because there aren’t respectable reasons to simply not like rap; people dislike whole genres undeniably often, after all. Think of the common statement “I love all music except country”. But disliking a form of music is much different than claiming that opinion is an absolute. In his piece, Shapiro holds up T.I. as a representative model of rap as a whole, but he’s also prone to purposely misinterpreting rap. His analysis of Cardi B’s music video for Bodak Yellow comes to mind. Throughout, he’s confused. He mocks the ungrammatical nature of her lyrics, and he thinks that her being in a desert is some sort of political statement on gender equality in Saudi Arabia rather than a randomly exotic backdrop for her music. These throw into doubt the sincerity of Shapiro’s “takedown.” Is he genuinely convinced that people are reading into this music video that Cardi B is holding up Saudi Arabia as a beacon of gender equality? And though some interpret her song as a statement on feminism, it’s doubtful that the artist herself had thought that much into it. In one breath, Shapiro scoffs at the seeming thoughtlessness of this kind of rap, and in another, he assigns political motivations where convenient. His confusion doesn’t end with Cardi B’s sand dunes.

He pushes on, in reaction to another popular track, so very confused by Future’s “where ya ass was at?”, well, in keeping with his rigid attention to grammar. You begin to wonder whether he’s actually unable to translate Future’s question into plain English. Shapiro likely knows what he means, but he’s criticizing it for being ungrammatical. That hardline way of thinking ignores that much of art eschews strict adherence to rules, grammar, and reality under creative license. The meaning, in spite of the lyrics’ lack of grammar, remains intact. Future is conveying something that, at its core, isn’t essentially unconservative. He’s asking the question of where those near to him now were when he was working his way up the ladder, harkening to the fact that his success had to be earned by him alone. There are many ways to convey this sentiment, but isn’t it more important that such messages get across in the first place?

Language is a tool, not an end unto itself. After all, it’s doubtful that a single, basically intelligent person is going to start ending their questions with prepositions and tossing in “your asses” just because a rapper did. At the same time, one can encourage young people to master the English language, while enjoying rap as a simple form of exaggerated entertainment. And it would be equally silly to mock or act confused while listening to Jamaican dancehall artists when they say “tings” instead of things. His tendency to overthink rap and inject political motives that usually aren’t there blinds him to properly addressing both rap’s flaws and its merits. Say what you will about rap or any other genre for that matter, but if you approach it with the mentality that it’s bad in every way imaginable, it’s no surprise when you’re unwilling to be receptive to it in every way. Applying a political lens to everything is harmful, whether that comes from the feminist or racially tinged corners of the radical left or the right. It’s perfectly fair to dislike most of a genre, but it is essential to understand its appeal from a politically neutral standpoint.

Shapiro’s “Rap is Crap” article followed rapper T.I.’s arrest for illegally owning a variety of guns and suppressors. But the gravest sin on the part of T.I. isn’t his criminal extracurricular activities, but instead the substance of his music. That is the crux of the conservative mindset on rap. The typical conservative thinking goes, not only are its performers frequently delinquent, but they champion that style of living in their music. And while it is accurate to say that the most popular contemporary artists today fall into that camp, it fails to account for what drives general interest in this form of music. It isn’t motivated by a sincere desire to plunge into absurd volumes of strange women, hit some liqs, or wear gold chains that stretch down as far as their sagging jeans. This is especially not the motivation for the vast majority of the public who listen to this music casually. Given that it dependably tops the charts, if that were the case we would be seeing pandemic bloodshed on the streets and uncontrollable domestic abuse (not to mention STDs galore). Clearly, there is an unignorable entertainment factor that accounts for its eminent popularity, and it’s the same one that undergirds the scenes and plots from violent video games and ridiculous movies. It can almost be seen as absurd self-satire; for instance, when you see rappers talking about having as many bitches on their dicks as they claim they do. It’s hard to believe conservatives are genuinely convinced this reflects any semblance of reality. In fact, artists themselves acknowledge what they say in their records is often grossly exaggerated or ridiculous.

Raps many and reoccurring feuds, for example, mirror performances like the WWE, which doesn’t exactly market itself as fake, but is scripted for the audience’s entertainment. Like WWE superstars, rappers love to ignite them and flex for the sake of driving public interest, streams, and sales. And most of their fans know it and the 10-year-olds that don’t inevitably find out that it’s all for the show. The act of overthinking the ridiculous lyrics found in the newest trap banger would be as silly as condemning Dumb & Dumber for romanticizing stupidity or the WWE for romanticizing unrepentant violence. The WWE itself, for that matter, often found itself the target of such criticism. It similarly faced backlash for negatively influencing youth, as if the WWE painted this violence as something worthy of imitation. Unfortunately for such critics, we’ll see these elements of human nature play out in virtually every medium of entertainment because it’s just that: a piece of human nature. For these reasons, conservatives miss quite a bit when they point to the foolish actions of someone like T.I. and suggest that this is the impression any sane listener will come away with. But not all conservatives think that the music of T.I. and others are going to have some sweeping impact on the culture, but rather that it will impact vulnerable minority communities.

Liam Julian of National Review, for example, writes “Hip-hop does not, for instance, play a big role in the lives of most affluent kids, who may just listen to rap while traveling to and from school, or at weekend parties, or while playing sports. This group of young Americans does not see the truth in hip-hop’s messages nor strive to emulate its “lifestyle” … Sadly, the same cannot be said of lots of poor, black kids. For these young Americans, hip-hop’s lyrics are too often real reflections of life; too often they come to embody goals and aspirations. The public, to its immense discredit, is less honest than it should be about rap’s pernicious influence. ”But even accepting that this is true, does the problem lie with the medium or the culture itself? After all, when someone falls prey to video game addiction, is the fault with the video game developers or the addict himself? On those grounds, you would make the same and largely discredited case that the Nicholas Cruz's of the world will be inspired by the violent imagery in video games to carry out their deadly, vengeance-fueled acts. You can hardly blame the industry as a whole when people attempt to act out whatever form of entertainment they’re consuming in extreme ways even while the overwhelming majority of others are able to do so and go about their lives happily and healthily.

More pressingly, if you do, what is the solution? The only apparent one is to demonize a type of entertainment that is otherwise enjoyed by the bulk of people for not only innocent but lighthearted reasons. Critics of rap like Liam Julian of National Review are also mistaken to claim that the genre one dimensionally glorifies a lifestyle of degeneracy and violence. Even the artist he cites, T.I., in one of his most successful tracks ever, Dead and Gone, speaks of this “lifestyle” in dark and decidedly unromantic terms: “Never mind that now, you lucky to be alive, Just think it all started you, fussin' with three guys Now ya pride in the way, but ya pride is the way you Could fuck around, get shot die any day Niggas die, every day all over Bull shit No more stress, now I'm straight, Now I get it now I take time to think, Before I make mistakes, just for my family's sake That part of me left yesterday, the heart of me is strong today No regrets I'm blessed to say, the old me dead and gone away.”

In the same way, the ideas that rap simply glorifies misogyny also reveals a lack of familiarity with even the genre’s most popular tracks. Take for instance the chart-topping “Violent Crimes” off of Kanye West’s newest album: “ye”. “Niggas is savage, niggas is monsters, Niggas is pimps, niggas is players' Til niggas have daughters, now they precautious, Father forgive me, I'm scared of the karma 'Cause now I see women as somethin' to nurture Not somethin' to conquer I pray your body's draped more like mine and not like your mommy's Just bein' salty, but niggas is nuts And I am a nigga, I know what they want.” Moving beyond the fact that rap is not nearly as thoughtless or decadent as its critics believe, by focusing solely on the excesses of rap, they miss a key part of rap’s role in the culture. There is a much more potent strain that celebrates self-determination and grit. Where virtually every other industry of mainstream entertainment and media has cloaked itself in contempt for our capitalist system, the overwhelming majority of rappers celebrate their hard-won successes. In doing so, they offer a message of inspiration to those who otherwise would only hear that their lack of success is because they’re being denied something by an oppressive other.

This is the only cultural force that serves as a rare voice of optimism in an increasingly pessimistic world. It, unlike any other, champions the virtue of self-earned success. Take A$AP Rocky’s Lord Pretty: “Flacko Jodye 2 I ain't never lookin' for no handouts Broke ass niggas never helpin' but they hands out.” Or Joey BadA$$’s Devastated: “At times I thought we'd never make it But now we on our way to greatness And all that ever took was patience I-I-I-I used to feel so devastated At times I thought we'd never make it, yeah But now we on our way to greatness And all that ever took was patience Okay, just getting better each day Stacking that cheddar, cheesecake Looking up to the Lord, we pray Trying to be my best each day Until I'm laid to rest we lay, yeah 'Til the time being we lit Hoping I don't let it get all in my head I don't need money just to say that I'm rich.” Or even Drake’s Scholarship: “I wake up, pray every morning These demons, they callin' my soul I said fuck all of you hoes I'm ballin' outta control I'm ballin' outta control If I can give everything back to you All this passion I got, all I ever needed For me to move on and succeed For me to move on and succeed Jealousy, envy, and greed Too much of that shit I don't need it.”

Naturally, conservatives look at the largely leftist politics of rap artists and think that that must be entirely what the philosophy beneath their lyrics is saying. When in fact, even the most vocal leftists, such as the now-infamous Eminem, have passionately expressed important conservative values--weird as it may sound. A solid example would be this line from his track Beautiful: “Nobody asked for life to deal us With these bullshit hands we're dealt We gotta take these cards ourselves And flip 'em, don't expect no help Now, I could've either just sat on my ass And pissed and moaned Or take this situation in which I'm placed in And get up and get my own.” In another track, legendary Southern rapper Gucci Mane represents the seemingly ignored strain of rap that reflects a deep ability to identify faults and fix them. A message that is much needed within the communities Liam Julian is worried about. “Sometimes I think about my past, it make me start tripping I was gifted with a talent that was God-given But I was so hard-headed I would not listen Sometimes I sit and I reflect about that cold prison And doin' pull-ups with a nigga got a life sentence They gave my nigga Grant life, he only gained on me Five years later, how we in the same room? You go to jail, that's when you see who really love you I don't think nobody love me like my auntie Jean do But I forgive, I been forgiven, I hold grudges too I'm just a work in progress, I'm not even through But I forgive, I been forgiven, I hold grudges too I'm just a work in progress, I'm not even through.” This is to say that not only can rap be defended against its negative criticisms, but it can be defended on positive grounds as well.

Crudeness doesn’t negate meaning or value, and oftentimes it doesn’t end there. Misleadingly, it can seem as though rap is one-dimensionally celebrating sexual hedonism and violence that conservatives are right to detest. But all isn’t as it appears. If you looked at Kanye West’s “Power” unthinkingly, for example, you could be excused for coming away with the impression that it’s merely an anthem for reckless indulgence. What this piece really explores is a much more sober, and self-conflicted take on the perils of power. This is why the Sword of Damocles lingers over Kanye’s head in its music video, even though models and precious metals surround him. West compacts a wide array of artistic and even philosophical meaning in what amounts to a supremely thoughtful piece of music. West’s video and lyrics are inspired by Roman Philosopher Cicero’s meditation on Damocles to illustrate how captivating grand wealth and power might seem on the surface, but how often forgotten is the responsibility that comes with it. This is a theme Kanye’s song draws upon in a way that directly butts heads with the kind of lavish and superficial rap conservatives point to in their wholesale rejection of the genre. Where what is frequently depicted as without consequence and sheerly ecstatic, Kanye offers us a much starker, serious glimpse into that world. One that ends in utter despair, peppered with contemplations of suicide, which he ultimately surrenders to. The chorus goes: “The clock’s ticking, I just count the hours Stop tripping, I’m tripping off the power”, which morphs in the latter act of the song into “I’m tripping off the powder.” The powder is, of course, cocaine. The parallel he’s drawing is a fitting one: power produces an illusory and short-lived ecstasy and an ultimately self-destructive one at that. In a way more mature than conservatives would expect, the artist isn’t celebrating vapid moneymaking or influence or drugs, but recognizing its inherently toxic and fleeting nature.

The first couple lines might seem characteristic of the bravado of stereotypical rap, but it transitions into something much more self-aware. The highs of fame and yes, power, are rife with pitfalls, and Kanye manages to express its folly through the medium of rap. Kanye goes from being “on his own dick” to merely “surviving.” He then engages in one of the most reckless acts imaginable, drunk driving, culminating in a crash--where the word “exciting” morphs into “suicide.” Is this not possible at the heart of what drives so much of the exaggerated peacocking in rap? This, of course, is just one example of how and where rap is not just music, but incredibly meaningful music if you take the time to appreciate and understand what its artists are saying. Which isn’t to say that they’re perfect, and they frequently make utterly foolish blunders. The reality is that it’s incredibly meaningful for more than purely indulgent reasons, which must also be seen.

A central criticism of Shapiro’s is that, as a classically trained musician, rap isn’t music. He makes this case on what can be generously described as faulty grounds. In the track just cited, after all, Kanye draws upon a wide array of musical traditions and genres. From rock to, yes, C Minor, this song serves as a case study to examine how rap is a legitimate form of music. The reservation of C Minor to depict a turbulent, heroic struggle, for instance, is many classical composers ranging from Dmitri Shostakovich String Quartet No. 8 have adhered to a classical tradition originating with Beethoven’s Symphony #5, and Gustav Mahler’s Symphony No. 2 "Resurrection.” Beyond that, his stirring mixture of rap, rock, and 70s classics in such a harmonious fusion can hardly be described as anything but music. The fact that the artist reworked one of his largest hits, Stronger, 75 times with 8 different engineers and eleven different mix engineers from around the world reflects the kind of devotion and consideration that often goes into this kind of, yes, music. Sneering elitism of this sort only serves to cripple conservatives’ ability to penetrate the broader culture. Defiantly blinding yourself to the virtues and complexity of something like rap does that mission a disservice, and hopefully, skeptics may be able to take a more thoughtful look at all forms of legitimate art beyond slogans such as “Rap is Crap.”

[helloworlddemo1122-yahoopar-blog]

Bryce Dallas Howard on Fertility Struggles and How a New Zealand Healer Helped Her Conceive (Exclusive)

Bryce Dallas Howard was just 5 when she awoke in Queenstown, New Zealand, and gazed out enormous windows into a stunning, awe-inspiring vista. Accompanying her father, director Ron Howard, while he filmed Willow, she was wowed by her first glimpse into a world outside her American homeland, and the powerful moment would stay with her for years to come. But little did the wide-eyed youngster realize that the nation would one day have a profound impact on her journey into motherhood.

In a revealing new interview with ET, the Jurassic World: Fallen Kingdom star is opening up about the health struggles she faced in her 20s and how the country helped her start a family, find solace and make a life-changing decision to leave Hollywood.

Born in Los Angeles to director Ron Howard and writer Cheryl Alley, Howard was educated on the East Coast, going to school in Connecticut and New York and later attending New York University's Tisch School of the Arts. She eventually returned to Los Angeles after her film career took off following her debut in 2004’s The Village.

It was at New York University where she met actor Seth Gabel, whom she would date for five years before the two got married in 2006. Soon after getting engaged, the couple found themselves facing major hurdles with their family dreams. “I was really struggling and having some challenges,” Howard says. “I learned that I was going to need minor surgery in order to conceive. Then my friend had an appointment with a New Zealand man, Papa Joe, who would come over once a year and stay in this incredible house in Topanga Canyon, where he and his folks would heal people. I was sharing my woes with my friend and she said, ‘They’re leaving tomorrow, you should take my appointment!’”

The late Maori elder was a well-respected healer who traveled throughout the U.S. and Europe helping people and released a book in 2006 about his spiritual methods. Howard took the opportunity, but walked in with doubts about how much his practices could help her. Yet, within seconds of arriving, she recalls feeling the “powerful” nature of his practice.

“Instantly, without me saying anything, he saw what was going on and explained the situation,” Howard recalls. “He did very physical, rigorous body work, and there was a midwife there who helped me breathe through the experience.”

Howard and Gabel married on June 17, and seven days later, Howard learned she was pregnant. “We weren’t even trying! His session healed me completely,” she says.

Shortly afterward, Howard attended her first midwife appointment and noticed a photo of Papa Joe on the wall, only to find out that he had died six months earlier. “I was so grateful that I got to be a part of that last group of people who were treated by him. I’ve always felt a great amount of indebtedness and thankfulness,” Howard says, revealing that when she returned to New Zealand 30 years after her first visit to film Pete’s Dragon, “I kept thinking, ‘I would love to visit the group to say thank you, even though Papa Joe is gone.’”

While staying at the Treetops Lodge in Rotorua for her 34th birthday, Howard, now a mother of two, signed up to get a Romiromi massage, a holistic Maori body treatment. “I was telling the Maori gentleman my story, and as soon as I said, ‘Papa Joe,’ he just lit up and went, ‘My teacher!’” she recalls. It turned out that Papa Joe had trained him. “It’s funny how I was 24 when he treated me and this encounter was on my 34th birthday, 10 years later.”

While Howard is eternally grateful for the healing rituals of the country’s native Maori people, her joy was temporarily jolted to a halt with the unexpected turbulence that swept through her life after welcoming her son, Theo, in 2007. The Black Mirror star has openly discussed her battle with severe post-natal depression and, in a blog written for Goop  in 2010, she shared how she “heaved uncontrollable sobs,” referred to her newborn as “it,” greeted Gabel with expletive-filled outbursts and frequently broke down in the shower during her first 18 months of motherhood.

Reflecting on the emotional roller coaster and irony of having struggled on her path to having a baby, only to plunge into depression once she did, Howard says she frequently felt like her mind was playing tricks on her. “It was the worst! You think the one thing you’re going to be able to control in life, to a certain extent, is your own feelings, especially when it’s so obvious what you should feel. But all of a sudden, I went through this experience, which was truly chemical. It absolutely changed everything, and it’s just horrifying. It’s like your heart, your body and your mind are ripped apart and it takes a while to piece it back together.”

Eventually, a homeopathic treatment plan, a mothers’ group and Brooke Shields’ memoir Down Came the Rain: My Journey Through Postpartum Depression helped her recover. “It’s been a journey, but I’m really lucky because I had a second pregnancy [with daughter, Beatrice] where I didn’t experience that, so that was also very healing for me,” Howard says.

The biggest lesson from the ordeal has been to give herself timeouts. “When I think back about what I would have done differently [while suffering with PND], I would have given myself time and space to be alone and process and have some perspective, whether that’s 10 minutes in the bathroom -- well, it shouldn’t just be 10 minutes in the bathroom, but that’s what it ends up being!” Howard says.

Bryce Dallas Howard seen in front of the Tāne Mahuta, a giant kauri tree in the Waipoua Forest of New Zealand.

Julian Apse

“In a way, that’s what New Zealand has felt like for me and for a lot of people I talk to,” continues the actress, who was named New Zealand Tourism Ambassador to the United States and Canada in 2017. “You get that moment to step out of the fray, good or bad, and be in a place where you’re nurtured, replenished and brought back to your center. Every single time I’ve gone there, I’ve felt totally restored. It’s a very healing part of the world and there’s just a lot of people who live there who are very happy -- and that’s infectious!”

It was while living in dreamy spots like Mount Maunganui, during filming of Pete’s Dragon, that Howard started noticing a shift in her children, which instigated her and Gabel’s recent decision to leave Hollywood. Theo was almost 7 and Beatrice was 3 when the family left behind a Californian winter to wake up to summer in the South Pacific. “Right off the bat, the kids were like, ‘What kind of magic is happening here?’”

Quickly becoming immersed in Kiwi life, the impact of their new environment became evident as the family settled into their new seaside home, where the children soaked up “tropical summer living,” and attended a local school. The family relocated to a farm in the South Island town of Tapanui, near Dunedin, where they reveled in country life and relished every inch of expansive open spaces.

Having spent her childhood running around the woods of Connecticut, Howard was frequently sentimental about her own youth. “Both environments we lived in were very different, yet the similarity was that connection to nature and that sense of being in a sanctuary. They just became wild, happy, fulfilled kids, who were tired and dirty at the end of the day. It sounds overly simplistic, but I felt that they were safe -- so then they felt safe. And that feeling really empowered them as young people to explore, have adventures, walk a little further out of the yard than they normally would, climb a tree and follow through with curiosity.”

With her kids being closer to nature than they had ever been before, Howard encouraged them to be free. “It woke them up and made them excited to go outside,” she says. “That’s something they haven’t let go of, and seeing them in that environment hugely inspired us to move out into the country, because I saw how much they blossomed.” Now back in the United States, the family left Los Angeles for upstate New York, where they’re now living in the countryside.

Of course, it’s the dinosaurs stomping into theaters in June that many fans are most excited about, and having reprised her role as Claire in Jurassic World: Fallen Kingdom, Howard promises the film will wow in a way the franchise never has before. “There’s something happening on Isla Nublar putting all the dinosaurs’ lives in jeopardy and Claire and Owen go to save them. The story really goes in a direction where the franchise has never gone before -- ultimately, taking these dinosaurs off the island.”

While she's tight-lipped about plot details, Howard did admit that Claire is sporting more appropriate footwear in the new installment, which is even better for outrunning dinosaurs. But what really prepared the actress for all that intense filming and dino-chasing were extensive hikes in New Zealand. “My favorite active thing to do is to hike. It’s not just about keeping fit and preparing for the film; for me, it’s also about de-stressing. When I’m hiking, it gets me back to a very grounded, healthy, centered place,” Howard says.

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