#i was in there editing another project earlier today and turned around and went 'do you mind' at one point bc she was scream laughing

[batemanofficial]

i should buy a full final cut license but oough its expensive

[delululand]

you and yeonjun studied at the same university. you met him on the first day and quickly became close, you both had common interests, similar values and you liked to spend time together. you often went to exhibitions, went shopping or just watched TV shows and series together at his house.

he's always been very popular with girls, but in all the 2 years that you've known him, he hasn't dated anyone. yes, of course, he was nice and friendly with everyone, sometimes even flirted (or was it just his way of communicating? actually often his natural manner of communication looked like flirting), but it never ended with something serious. you were very close and told each other about your affairs, but in fact you also didn't have anything serious with someone, there were a couple of guys who asked you out or hinted at sex, but you weren't interested in it, your own life, hobbies, studies and time with friends was much more important

since you studied at the creative majors, you had quite a lot of group projects on staging dances, recording songs and shooting videos for editing practice. you have always chosen each other as a partner in such tasks and this time, having received a big task, you decided to do it together again. you had to come up with a choreography and perform it as a qualifying exam.yeonjun was a very good dancer, so he immediately offered to take on the most difficult choreography and you agreed to meet in the studio in the evening for a final discussion. he often danced with his friends in this studio, so when you got there a little earlier than the appointed time, you found him and his friends still dancing. carefully walking into the hall, you saw taehyun and bomgyu, who were already familiar to you, as well as an unfamiliar guy who was sitting in the corner of the room and watching the guys.

a minute later they finished the dance, yeonjun came up and hugged as a greeting, and the guys said hello and immediately said goodbye, as it was time for them to go. the guy sitting in the corner got up and came up to you, yeonjun said, "y/ni, this is mingi sunbaenim, he helped us with the choreography". the guy smiled sweetly at you and greeted you. since yeonjun had already been dancing for several hours up to this point, he asked for a short break before you start. at this time, mingi continued to communicate with you. he was very friendly and asked a lot about you and your project. you told him that you had to put on another individual dance and mingi offered his help in this. you have seen yeonjun looking slightly annoyed, but probably he's just tired from a few hours of rehearsal before? after answering several messages on the phone, catching his breath and drinking water, yeojun came up to you and said, "khm, I think it's time to start? we need to prepare well today," to which mingi replied, "yes, of course, I won't disturb you, I'm just surprised that you've been hiding such a beauty from me all this time," you laughed and yeonjun saw off mingi to the exit. only you and yeonjun are left. you liked the dance he put on right away and you started rehearsing.

after 3 hours of rehearsal, you finally went outside. it was already 10 pm and yeonjun insisted on walking you home. on the way home, you started asking about mingi, to which yeonjun said "why are you suddenly asking so much about him?", you replied "no, he was just very nice to me and promised to help with the next project", you saw yeonjun's lips pouting and he looked at you with an offended look "can't I help you? why ask someone else?", his pouting face caused you to be touched and a surge of tenderness, so you patted his hair and put your arm around his shoulder and said, "heeeeeeey, what's going on? I just don't want to bother you with my problems, you already help me too much and I really appreciate it, but I don't want to be completely arrogant." his gaze softened, he turned to you and with a soft smile said "hey, you're don't...", he hugged you and kissed the top of your head, after which you continued to go home

a few days later, mingi text you and you began to communicate a lot and it seemed that you were beginning to fall in love. you continued your rehearsals with yeonjun, you saw the face he looks at you every time you mention mingi in front of him, so you tried to talk about him as little as possible.

you went on a few dates with mingi and you were so excited about it, but this feeling of falling in love overshadowed the guilt of not telling him, knowing that it would upset him. you've always been so close and shared everything from childhood traumas to what you ate for breakfast today. you asked him about why he reacts to mingi like that and each time he just replied that mingi is just not the one you need. it makes you overthink. maybe he's really not the one you need? maybe yeonjun knows what you don't know? or maybe yeonjun just has a personal dislike for him? or is he afraid that you will spend less time with him because of this? after all, in fact, he was your only guy friend, of course you had girl friends and other friends, but you weren't friends with any of the guys as close as with him

your dance with yeonjun had already been rehearsed almost perfectly and there was only a week left before the performance, so you decided that you could already start rehearsing your solo dance.mingi, as promised, offered his help, so you agreed to see each other in the studio. due to the fact that you spent more time with mingi, you met with yeonjun mostly only at rehearsals and at university. he called you to different places, but you were busy, so you made up excuses every time hoping that he would not guess the true reason. but he is not a fool and he has long guessed the real reasons for your behavior, maybe he just didn't want to believe?

after meeting mingi in the studio and practice the dance, he walked you home, but on the way he accidentally dropped coffee on a white t-shirt, so you invited him to come in to wash it. you clearly liked each other, sexual tension was building up and at one point you were already sitting on a shelf in the bathroom passionately kissing mingi without a t-shirt. it was a long session of kissing and you heard your phone ringing, but only put it on silent mode. realizing that this is growing into something more, you stopped for a second and you glanced at the phone. there were about 15 missed calls from yeonjun and the phone still kept ringing. it bothered you, why is he calling so much all of a sudden? something happened? mingi stayed to kiss you on the neck, but you asked him to stop and took a breath to answered the call

- hiii, junie, did something happen? is it urgent?

- oh, you finally picked up the phone, no, nothing urgent, I was just near your house and wanted to see you, can you go out for a couple of minutes?

- mhhh so suddenly..... I'm just a little busy right now.....

- it's just a couple of minutes, I won't distract you for too long, I need to tell you something

- okay, wait a second... - you answered with a heavy sigh

after explaining the situation to mingi, you asked him to wait for you here and were about to leave the house. even after several attempts, you still didn't look very good. to put it mildly, your lips were swollen, your makeup was a little smeared and your clothes were crumpled, so you just hoped that it was already night outside and it wouldn't be so noticeable in the semi-darkness.

when you went outside, you saw yeonjun, he was leaning on a lantern, he had a really cute bouquet in his hands and he greeted you with the most tender smile. when he saw you, he took a few steps forward and hugged you tighter than usual. being so close to him, you smelled a plume of alcohol. "hey, what's going on?" you asked, breaking away from his embrace, "I'm so glad to see you, and what are you so busy that you can't see your dear friend?" his words stuttered a little and he giggled, without waiting for your answer, he held out his hand to you with a bouquet in it saying "it's fo....". before he could finish, his face changed and he was looking somewhere behind you. the bouquet fell out of his hand and he looked at you, looking into his eyes you saw the look of a dog who had lost his master, he looked with such pain and disappointment that you were taken aback. turning around, you saw mingi standing on the doorstep of your house without the t-shirt, he looked at you and shouted "baby, is everything okay?". you looked at yeonjun and just wanted to say "yeojun no, that's not what you....", he interrupted you by saying "ah, so that's what this is about.... and how could I be such a fool," without listening to your explanations, he just turned around and left. you tried to stop him to solve this situation, but he just threw off your hands and calmly walked on, not stopping a step.

you came home in a rage, "what the fuck have you done? who asked you to come out?" you shouted, not understanding what to do next, unlike you, mingi was calm, "what's wrong with that? he would have found out about us being together anyway, so what's the problem?", mingi grinned and added, "or are you saying you didn't know about his feelings? everyone around knew about it, I don't believe you're stupid enough not to see the obvious things." feelings? no, you knew he loved you, but was that what you were thinking? he was always caring, brought you food when you didn't have time to eat at home, picked you up from parties if you were drunk, treated you when you got sick, helped you always and everywhere, all these moments flashed through your memory in a second. what was friendly love for you turned out to be not just friendly love at all?

as the days passed, yeonjun stayed to ignore you, he did not answer your calls and messages, and at the university he passed by pretending that you did not exist. mingi calmed you down and said that yeonjun was not worth your worries, and everyone around asked what happened just pressing on the sore spot, and the thought that in a few days you should perform your dance for the exam finally finished you off. he hasn't said a word to you since, you haven't rehearsed the dance anymore and haven't discussed how it will go. however, he did not block you and the day before the exam you received a message “tomorrow at the university at 9am. do not be late. we are the first to perform” you answered “yes, of course, I will” and you hoped that this was a shift for the better, because this is at least something, and after hundreds of your calls and messages, he texts you himself. when you met, he was still cold and without saying a word to you, he danced with you to the highest score, also silently leaving immediately after grading.

the second month of silence has begun. your relationship with mingi was something that somehow made you glad and if not for this whole situation, you could say that you were happy. was happy exactly until I received a message from an unknown number. you knew that before you, mingi had a girlfriend with whom he dated for a long time and they broke up because she had to move to another country, but you didn't know that she returned about two weeks ago. in a message from an unknown number, there were photos of mingi and his ex spooning sweetly in a cafe, he kissed her hand and the message claimed that they were seeing each other for more than the first time. when you found out about it, you were so disappointed that all the emotions that had accumulated during all this time poured out a stream of anger at mingi. he said he could explain it all and he was sorry that it happened, but you were not able to listen to it all, so after blocking him everywhere, you called your friend, found your most cheese outfit and you went to the club.

it was Saturday night and the club was full of people. it was smoky around and loud music was playing, you drank shots one by one and after 10 you already lost count. the alcohol in your blood was making itself felt, and the smell of weed around only made the situation worse. slightly stumbling, you were walking through a crowd of people and bumped into some guy. looking up, you saw that it was yeonejun. after looking at you contemptuously, he was going to just pass by as he had been doing for the last month, but when you saw him that evening, you couldn't stand it. because of the loud music, you couldn't hear anything, so you grabbed his hand tightly and dragged him to the exit to the backyard.

“what the fuck are you doing!?” he was screaming and trying to take your hand off his forearm. finally going out into the fresh air, you let go of his hand, turned around and shouted “what the fuck AM I doing? no fuck i should ask you about this! do you seriously think that after a few years of our friendship, it's okay to just cut me out of your life like this? without explaining absolutely anything and without giving me the opportunity to even just talk to you” his eyes widened with anger, he came close to you, pressing you against the wall “explain WHAT? THAT I like fucking idiot love you almost from our first meeting? THAT all this time I could only dream about you? THAT I'm a fucking coward who didn't have the courage to tell you because I was afraid that you would stop communicating with me at all? THAT the day I finally decided to do it, I see you with mingi coming out of your house half naked? WHAT did I feel at that moment as my heart was being torn into thousands of pieces? THAT all this time I wished I could have confessed earlier? THAT missed my chance? WHAT THE FUCK OF THIS WAS I SUPPOSED TO EXPLAIN?”.

you were taken aback by his words, his face was literally pressed against yours and you felt his heavy breathing on your lips.you tried to say “junie... I'm not...” at the same moment, your lips merged in a passionate kiss, his hands pressed you closer by the waist, and yours pressed him even closer to you. unable to restrain yourself any longer, you hurriedly called a taxi and drove home to yeonjun. everything was familiar to you in this house and knocking down some of the objects on your way passionately kissing you went straight to the bedroom. carelessly falling on the bed, yeonjun leaned on you with all his weight, unbuttoning the zipper of your dress and kissing your neck and collarbones, leaving purple hickeys. throwing off your dresses, he began to suck and kiss your boobs, touching and sucking your nipples. leaving a wet trail of kisses on your stomach, he goes down and bites the inside of your thighs. he takes off your lace panties, bending painfully slowly, eyes shining in the lit light, making contact with yours and cares your folds with his tongue.

your body trembles under him when he eats you, his mouth feels everywhere, licks and sucks you where you want it most, as if he was born to give you pleasure. your moans echo around the room, sucking the clit feels unreal, with each immersion of his tongue in your hole, you whine and squirm until you reach your limit. your fingers tingle and twitch in his hair, warning of the approach of the culmination, but he does not stop, only works harder with his tongue. inserting your fingers inside, you feel overstimulation and cum. giving you a chance to catch your breath, yeonjun pulls back to take off his pants, seeing how hard he is, you stretch out your hand and smear the precum on his tip. “jun…i need you so bad”. he puts his palm to your cheek and gently kisses your lips, pressing his forehead to yours. making eye contact, you feel him put in you with a low moan coming from his throat. feelings from smeared kisses, stretching and slow but confident movements feel mind-blowing. your hands are squeezing his hair with all their strength when yeonjun starts to pick up speed, his eyebrows are frowning, heavy sighs and moans come out of his throat, and his hands are squeezing your waist and hips, pressing you as close as possible. he opens his eyes when you pull his hair sharply and almost cums at the sight of your face frozen with pleasure. you hold him to you and frantically whisper his name. the sensations get stronger every second and you cum for the second time in a night, your walls start to shrink around him, this puts him over the edge. you feel the warmth of his sperm spreading inside you, he kisses you on the corner of his lips, whispering “I love you” and lies down on your chest, trying to catch his breath, still staying inside you. your nails draw circles on his back and after a pause you say into the air, “I think I love you too...”

[trivialbob]

The Good, the bad, and the Ugly

The Good - For Christmas Sheila signed me up for Surly Brewing's Bottle Project. Four times a year I get a limited edition beer. I love limited edition beers.

This week I went to the large brewery and restaurant to pick up the first bottle. There was also a metal water bottle for me. A lot of people there for the same reason. Surly also had a small tasting event for us.

We got to try a sample of what's in that bottle: North, a barleywine ale aged in fernet barrels. Very good.

Then we sampled Tattersall distillery's amaro and fernet, two bitter, aromatic spirits. I liked each, but probably not enough to buy a 750ml bottle of either.

The Bad - Last night I opened the dishwasher to put in a final glass. I peered inside to admire my handiwork before pressing the start button. Nothing caps off the end of my day like starting the dishwasher, then going to bed while it works, and I sleep.

Some people don't care how they load a dishwasher. But I do. I like to imagine things get more clean when the plates are aligned, pieces of silverware all face the same direction, and cups and mugs are thoughtfully placed at an angle where they don't accumulate water if the bottoms are concave.

Feng shui matters in appliances too.

My wife, standing behind me, watched. Earlier, she had turned one plate around. Two plates now faced each other. A good host doesn't seat a left-handed person to the right of a right-handed person. Their elbows will bump. Always something to think about. And plates shouldn't face each other in the dishwasher because... well, just because.

She laughed as I corrected the placement. Then I started the machine and retired to the guest room for the night.

The Ugly - Friends of ours parked a vehicle in our driveway while they were in Mexico for a few weeks. We live not far from the airport and don't mind dropping off people so they don't have to pay for parking. Last night I picked up the couple in their own vehicle.

It's a 29-year-old Jeep Grand Cherokee. At one time this was a very nice, expensive SUV with leather seats, automatic climate control, and other luxury features. The paint had been white, I think.

Today it's their winter beater.

Before I could drive to MSP I had to jump start the Jeep for the second time. I had run it the day before, to make sure it would start, after jump starting it the first time.

To unlock the hood I pulled on Vice Grip pliers that were permanently affixed to a cable under the dashboard.

Once the Jeep was running, it was loud. The exhaust system apparently was vacationing in Mexico too, leaving me with a deep rumbling, rusty Jeep.

Driving along I-494 made me think the road was covered in ice. It was just the Jeep. The right side tires were not in agreement with the left side ones, or the front with the back either. Like four kids fighting in the back seat, except I couldn't hear them over the sound of the exhaust. The power steering didn't work either. Driving in a straight line required two hands at all times and much concentration. What an ingenious way to keep a person from texting while driving.

At the cell phone lot I waited briefly while our friends collected luggage and went through customs. There was no way I was going to shut off the Jeep, for fear it wouldn't start again. So I sat next to two unfortunate drivers who surely could hear and feel the Jeep's exhaust. While stationary, I began to smell that exhaust too. Only my sense of sight was spared from it. Had I seen the toxic gas inside the Jeep I probably would have simply abandoned the vehicle where it was parked.

Finally I picked up the couple in the arrivals section. Traffic was pretty bad. After they were belted in, I tried to leave but was blocked all around. An officer directing traffic must have been tired of the sound, smell, and sight of that Jeep.

He--and I'm not exaggerating--stopped two lanes of traffic, made another car move forward, and directed me to get the Jeep into the far left lane so I could leave. I waved to him in thanks. H probably rolled his eyes.

On the way to my house I good-naturedly remarked about the condition of the Jeep. The wife of the couple laughed, then asked: "You're not writing about this on your blog, are you?"

Of course not.

[198d]

...

So, working on a project and one aspect of it is making a really simple scientific poster. I'm the design guy, I do the front nd design since I'm the only person who knows basic html and css, the only person who has taken art and design classes, and I do this stuff for fun so I go ahead and take charge of the poster. Plus they really just don't have the intuition for design at all, even when I or the professors give clear instructions on How To Do Things Right. We have to make tons of drafts and get feedback on them, and its kind of a dripfeed because staff would make comments on some things, neglect to comment on the other things, and make us turn in another draft based on those missed comments.

Every single fucking time my teammates would work on it, I would have to go back and fix allllllll of the margins and padding they neglected, and I would have to remake every image of a diagram into a simplified, vectorized. Every time we had to change text or images based on the feedback, I would have to go back and change those as well. Today, while I was working on this, one of my teammates was literally trying to edit the same thing at the same time (using figma and diagrams.net). I was going to lose my mind because I was just trying to fix all of the issues, like I had to do multiple times, that my teammates would neglect from the feedback, and so this was actively happening while I was trying to fix them.

I had everything in their own groups, so that it would be easy to change things out. My teammates didn't know how to work with that. Earlier teammate literally did not understand that a file cannot have two different file extensions, and sent me a rasterized image of a diagram instead of the actual editable file, because diagrams.net just lets you have an "editable (so like, able to move around the individual elements) png" saved to your google docs, exported it as a plain png and posted it in the project chat. When I couldn't open it they then tried to tell me like, well it worked for me and well it has the other extension too so it should work. It was only the filename that had the 'extension' of the proper file format. (this is the big csc senior class btw)

The fact that we went back and forth so much on that diagram to begin with was frustrating because they could've given me access to the editable file at any time, and would constantly ignore or forget feedback which meant having to fix it many, many more times, and most of those fixes were still missing the core design feedback like 'make the text size bigger' and 'eliminate unnecessary whitespace'. If anything, it would've been much better if I went through with porting it to figma instead of relying on them, but I'm over here not wanting to be a total control freak so I'm like... whatever.

So when I get access to that diagram I fix issues from all of the feedback, but at the end of our final feedback they go and try to edit at the same fucking time as I am editing, and I had been fixing the diagram all day up to that point. Then the same thing happened on the figma document, and of course they deleted my group for the section the diagram was supposed to go in, so I had to make it again, fix the margins, fix the padding, fix the sizing.

They also completely trashed my design for a page I worked on for the project itself like waay earlier in the semester, so I was like. Okay. You guys do your thing, I can put in all my junk later. I would like to avoid wasting my time as much as possible, considering how mentally ill and exhausted I already am.

oh yeah and also the examples the professors put in the powerpoint for posters had the same (margins and spacing or text inconsistencies, bad looking screenshots, that kind of thing) or worse issues (think black impact font on a busy patterned background, for fucks sake) that they kept nitpicking us for, so its kinda like. please actually showcase something that's relevant thanks.

At least it's finally(?) over.

[queenerdloser]

i already complained about this to a coworker but maybe if i complain about it here i can purge it from my brain

so there's this specific type of data entry our admin team at work has to do for providers where we track how they spend their administrative time in order to make sure they're meeting required coverage given by my job. we had this huge kerfluffle earlier this year where we were told we needed to collect this like two weeks before it was due and there was seriously not enough turn around time and absolutely nothing in place - no procedure for how to get the data, no spreadsheet to put it in, barely any info on what we were supposed to collect, literally nothing.

so. earlier this year i made all of that stuff. and when we were told "oh hey btw this is not a one-time thing, you will have to continually collect this info" i went "okay but can we set down a set of guidelines and a procedure so we know what the expectations are and what exactly we're supposed to be doing?" and my boss went okay and then proceeded to spend three months not bringing the subject up.

and when it WAS we went VERY briefly over expectations (we need to submit it twice a year to my boss!) and that was it. so i went "okay, i'll draft up a procedure based on these loose guidelines and update our VERY sad spreadsheet" and i did that in about a week. and got feedback from another coworker, made my edits, and finished it all in roughly three weeks. i made a meeting so we could all talk about the procedure and the spreadsheet back in fucking july okay. the end of july. and then a few days before the meeting i was like "oh actually it'd be super helpful to get your specific feedback on these two (2!!!!!) items because this process is something we're literally doing for your benefit. we're collecting the data for you to pass on. and also. you are my boss so it does kind of feel like the creation of this kind of department-wide affecting stuff should have your input." and a few days wasn't enough so my boss asked if we could shift the meeting to a few weeks later and i was like okay fine w/e.

i took a vacation and got back in august. the meeting was coming up and i had asked for feedback before that. so i sent her a message, an email, and brought it up in our 1:1 meetings. she never got back to me with feedback, so i rescheduled again because i specifically asked her for her feedback and even specifically said i didn't want to meet until i had it. so another two weeks roll by and guess what? still no fucking feedback. so i reschedule again. i bring it up to her in our meeting again and she tells me oh yeah she's looking at it but if she doesn't get back to me before the next meeting just keep it, we'll talk about it at the meeting.

so we had this meeting today. and within the first ten minutes (in the middle of me explaining why we're meeting!!!!) she has the nerve to ask me "hey what is this meeting even for? what are we trying to figure out here?" as if i didn't send an email explicitly detailing why we were going to meet last week to everyone, as if i haven't brought this up with her several times, as if i didn't explain it in my original email asking for feedback.

and then we spent like half the meeting having to hash out changes that she brought up!!!!! things like oh actually this doesn't need to be formally reported twice a year, it's actually only going to be formally reported once a year with annual faculty reviews. like what the FUCK i based the entire procedure on the twice a year outline you gave. that's why i asked you to look at the procedure so i could make those kinds of changes BEFORE the meeting. i didn't want to spend the meeting trying to fix the procedure, i wanted to present it to our group as a finished thing! because now i have to go in and make these fucking changes she never bothered to tell me about for a month and a fucking half despite me repeatedly asking her specifically for feedback and put this project even FURTHER behind.

and like. she kept interrupting me during the meeting which is super frustrating. and she also just like. didn't answer any of the questions i DID have for her. me: "hey can you clarify if you are actually reporting this twice a year as was previously discussed or is it really only once a year with annual reviews? if so, do we need to have hard deadlines every six months to send this info to you?" her: "well i'd like it to be ready just in case i get asked, because i want to be able to go in there and see the most updated data." okay but that's not the question i asked you!!!!!

me: "so what i have in the procedure i have screen-shared is we should do these updates on a quarterly basis." her, two minutes later: "so you guys will have to decide how often you're planning to update this info." me: "yeah that's why i have it in the procedure we should do it on a quarterly basis." her: "you'll just really need to choose how often it's done."

she does this all the time!!!! like you are supposed to be the leadership in our department so would it kill you just to give me a straight answer and lead??? can you PLEASE just say "well this is due twice a year, so you need to keep it updated every quarter" instead of this wishy-washy stuff? and also when i send you something and ask for your fucking input can you give it to me without me begging you on my hands and knees for it for a month and a half? and also ahead of the meeting so we don't have to waste half of it talking about stuff we could have already figured out if you were actually halfway decent at your job?????

[mywifeleftme]

172: Les Paul & Mary Ford // The World is Still Waiting for the Sunrise

The World is Still Waiting for the Sunrise Les Paul & Mary Ford 1974, Capitol

You get older (63), and every day someone mashes you in the gob with how long ago some event contained within your conscious lifespan took place (“Can you believe it’s been 19 years since NBC’s Ed was cancelled?”), and every day I’m telling them to shut up shut up shut up. My favourite “Remember when?” date is when the dinosaurs went extinct, because when I was a kid it was 65 million years ago, it is 65 million years ago now, and when I am dead and all my bones are being divvied up as souvenirs among my surviving friends it will not be 66 million or 69 million but 65 million years since the dinosaurs took their all-time steel-toe to the goolies.

I mention this because 12 years ago I reviewed Les Paul & Mary Ford’s 1951 single “How High the Moon” (b/w “Walkin’ and Whistlin’ Blues”), and now I’m reviewing a compilation that contains those songs. My 51-year-old self marveled at the ingenuity of the then-sixty-now-seventy-year-old recording, and I remain just as wowed today. I’m going to throw this portion of the review to my younger self:

“‘How High the Moon’ is a single from 1951, but it doesn’t sound like it’s only sixty years old. It’s like a radio transmission that’s travelled far beyond our solar system, the signal decaying imperceptibly over the lightyears until only the highest, whitest musical frequencies remain. A sort of ghost image of a pop song.

The song’s trebly, lunar sound is a result of guitarist and recording genius Les Paul’s meticulous, labour-intensive way of making records. At a time when most performances were recorded to a single track and overdubbing was almost unheard of, a man of Paul’s talents could easily have made his way in the business purely on the strength of his technical chops. But Paul was a recording nut who loved to work with the newest audio technology in order to push it beyond its makers’ intentions.

On his earlier breakthroughs, his technique involved recording himself playing on a disc, then recording himself playing along with the first recording on another disc, then recording himself playing along with the recording of the first two takes, and so on and so forth. This technique required Paul to play virtually perfectly each time, as direct editing was impossible and the poor fidelity of the discs he recorded on meant that the first tracks laid down decayed with each successive re-recording. If Paul didn’t record the various rhythm parts, bass lines and “solos” in the best possible order, the track would sound terrible (what we would now called “badly mixed”) and Paul might be forced to restart from scratch. Innovations in magnetic tape recording made this process easier in some ways (as well as making significant vocal multi-tracking possible), but Paul in turn increased his number of tracks from around eight on his first magnetic tape recording in 1947 to an astonishing twenty-four on 1951’s ‘How High the Moon’ (the same number commonly used in big budget productions today). There is something almost maniacal about a man going through such an arduous process just to get this fucking sound out of his head.

I’m not going to say it’s actually scientifically possible ‘How High the Moon’ has no bass tones at all, but the recording technology of the time fared much better at capturing high frequency sounds, which meant that each time Paul “recorded a recording” the previous tracks would have more of a high, pinched sort of frequency. When you do this as many times as Paul did here, the resulting sound has a cool, vacuum-sealed crispness. Paul’s wife Mary Ford had the ideal voice for this close-mic’d, trebly recording style, being high, clear and having very precise enunciation. She harmonized with herself exceptionally well, managing to project a playful, carefree quality in spite of the exacting precision it demanded. With simpler production, she might’ve come off as flirty or precious, particularly when an internal rhyme in the lyrics makes her voice sort of shimmy (“there is no moon above / when love is far away too…”), but this recording gives her singing a processed quality that, like today’s extensive use of Autotuning, makes it sound strikingly pristine but far less human. Her voice is doubled just enough to wipe out the lower register of her voice, and the multiplication of her voice renders its outlines thick and ever so slightly like static. It’s not music that makes you think of curling up with a girl, but rather of a girl’s voice curlicuing around the moon.

I’d always assumed Les Paul had probably become overrated as a guitarist because of the branding of the popular model of guitar that bears his name, but I was a fool. His style feels like a cross between jazz and rockabilly, but that doesn’t do justice to the oddness of how it sounds. I adore the array of trills and scratches with which he adorns the verses, the way he almost seems to be chasing himself in circles on his lengthy guitar solo (it’s over half of the song), bouncing against the rhythm. ‘How High the Moon’ is an uncommonly perfect blend of guitar virtuosity and classic pop style. And if there were ever a BioShock game set on the Moon, this would be its theme.

Defining Moment: Mid-way through Paul’s solo, Ford belts a long note and holds it for a good ten seconds or so, and it’s a shock because her voice to this point has been relaxed and soft. This is where Paul hits you over the head with the possibility of multi-track recording, because it sounds like there’s a now a choir singing, and the members of that choir’s voices are all impossibly similar to one another. It feels like a seachange.”

I really had time to dig into a record when I wasn’t trying to punch out one of these things every day, eh? In any case, the disc I now have in my physical collection, This World is Still Waiting for the Sunrise kicks off with “How High the Moon” and zips through 11 other sides recorded in their early ‘50s salad days. Many of them are jittery sprints in the same vein as their breakout hit, but the collection also dips into countrified ballads (“I Really Don’t Want to Know”), strolling novelties (“Walkin’ and Whistlin’ Blues”), and sonically-literal instrumentals (there’s not a better word for his “I’m Forever Blowing Bubbles” than ‘bubbly’). There are plenty of compilations of Paul and Ford’s work out there; sometime before the next asteroid smashes into us, you should get one.

Editor’s Note: No no no fuck! FUCK.

172/365

[ericspinkhair]

quarantine longings

pairing: best friend!kevin x fem!reader

word count: 3.2k

synopsis: you and your best friend have sex because quarantine made you horny

warnings: best friends to lovers, takes place during the pandemic, spoiler of 356 days (but not the end, just generally the plot), no use of condoms but only the pill, creampie, sexual fantasies, fingering, hand-job, sex, slight angst at the end if you squint

a/n: I would literally die for kevin, I love him so much. I'll be writing a multiple parts series about him after I'm done writing scenarios for every member first.

requests are open!

masterlist + requests

you slammed your foot hard against the wall and cursed in pain. you hopped on one foot to your bed, holding your other leg in agony and tasted blood as you bit your lip to keep the volume of your suffering groans in check. someone knocked on the door.

'are you okay?' your roommate asked concerned.

'no, leave me alone, kevin,' you croaked out. you wanted to suffer by yourself.

there was an awkward silence and then you heard him sigh. soon after, the door next to your room closed shut.

why were you so frustrated, one might ask? well, the pandemic was kicking your butt and you just couldn't take it anymore. when the news of the virus had first spread, no one thought it would become this serious. but suddenly everyone was walking around with masks and spent most of their time staying at home.

after graduating high school, you and kevin had decided to move in together for college because both of you were broke and couldn't afford to live alone. you had been best friends since middle school and had been convinced that it was a smart idea at the time.

and everything went smoothly for the first one and a half years. however, after not seeing anyone else since the start of the pandemic over a year ago, it became increasingly difficult to share an apartment, but not in the way one might assume. you were neither sick of each other nor did you fight a lot. to tell the truth, it was quite the opposite.

earlier, before you had kicked the wall in anger, the two of you had painted together. kevin was majoring in art and, since you didn't have anything better to do, you joined him while he did projects for his classes. you might have been majoring in journalism but you had always liked drawing and painting, even though you weren't particularly skilled. you were a naturally clumsy person, always tripping over air and dropping things. today you were hecticly moving around your hands while telling him about a stupid video you had seen and you accidently let go of the brush in your hand. it hit the side of kevin's face, leaving a wide splodge of red paint on his right cheek.

to get back at you, he jerked his paint brush and splattered some green color on your white shirt. you saw this as a challenge and soon both of you were both drenched in the colors of the rainbow, laughing hysterically on the floor, not caring that you were spreading the paint on the poor carpet.

you turned your heads to look at each other and you felt absolutely in peace. you loved this man and couldn't be more glad that it was him and not anyone else you were stuck with inside of this apartment.

he stood up to take off his stained shirt and your smile quickly faded off your face. your lips slightly parted and you couldn't help but stare at his now exposed biceps and abs.

your mouth watered and you felt heat pooling between your legs as you took your time to study his architecture. thoughts about how badly you wanted him to thrust into you while his strong arms held you up invaded your mind. you tried to shake them off but it was impossible.

occasions like this were slowly becoming a common occurrence for you.

having mostly stayed inside for over a year, also meant that you didn't have sex for that long. it's not like you were the horniest person on the planet but you still had needs that were being neglected. with kevin being home all the time you didn't even dare to masturbate, scared that he would be able to hear you through the frustratingly thin walls. you must have gone insane with all the lust building up inside you and that's why you suddenly craved to have sex with your best friend. this whole thing was destroying everything. it was hard to act normal when he was making you this nervous and heated but you tried to pretend that everything was fine anyway for the sake of your friendship.

that was the reason why you were angry and had hurt yourself. you hated the way you felt about your best friend and you hated the pandemic for not giving you an outlet to escape so you could recollect yourself.

what you weren't aware of was that kevin was no stranger to the exact same frustration.

he would need more than his ten fingers and ten toes to be able to count the amount of times he had to run to the bathroom to hide his boner because he had done so much as look at you bend over or stretch. he didn't want to make you uncomfortable but it was a challenge to try and calm down his hormones.

whenever he jacked off, images of you flashed through his mind; your sweet curves and pink lips drove him insane.

last week, you two were cooking together and you had asked him to get the salt. he stood behind you to reach for it on the highest shelf. he was forced to press his crotch against your butt cheeks and his dick hardened against his will. he quickly handed you the salt, excused himself and ran off before you could figure out what had happened.

he might not have known the cause of your sudden outburst but he sympathized with your fury because he had a lot of pent up anger towards covid as well.

he lay in his bed and tried to focus on the book he was reading but he couldn't tune out the groans coming from the room next to his. he cursed.

'stop it!' he was panicking as he saw a familiar tent forming in his pants. your sounds triggered some weird perverted part of his brain that sent signals right to his genitals. his dick was hardening and he saw no other solution to his problem than to give in to his subconscious desires.

he pulled down his pants just far enough so that his cock had enough room to spring out. it only needed a few strokes before it stood tall and angry. kevin pressed his head into his pillow and moved his hand fast. he wanted to get over with it quickly. he emptied his cum on his stomach while imagining your greedy little mouth being stuffed by his cock. he lay there panting as yet another round of shame flushed over him.

'get yourself together,' he whispered, mentally slapping himself.

***

'do you want to order japanese or italian?' you asked kevin. today was friday which meant it was time for your weekly tradition of ordering take out and watching a movie.

'definitely italian. we've already had japanese for the past four days. I need something else for a change,' kevin complained and shuddered at the thought of having to eat sushi again. the japanese restaurant prepared absolutely delicious food but he just couldn't stand it anymore.

you laughed at his pained facial expression. 'fine, italian it is.'

within twenty minutes the doorbell rang and after about half a minute kevin came back with two huge boxes.

he opened them on the small table situated in front of your couch and the smell of freshly cooked pasta seasoned with basil made your stomach growl.

kevin wanted to dig in already but you stopped him. you had to choose a movie first.

'let's watch tall girl. I saw everyone hate on it on tiktok,' you suggested.

'I think we should watch 365 days, that was all over my for you page as well,' kevin argued. you hadn't heard of it so you weren't sure whether it would be the right movie for you. the rule was that it had to be as bad as possible.

'according to what I have heard, it's apparently even worse than 50 shades of grey,' kevin added which piqued your interest. the both of you had watched 50 shades about two months ago and you were honestly shocked by how awful it actually was. you couldn't understand why everyone had been so obsessed with it when it was first released. if 356 days was really worse, then you'd hit the jackpot. you clapped your hands.

'fine, you win. I swear if the movie isn't as horrible as you say it is then you owe me something!' he intertwined his pinky with yours to promise.

watching horrible movies was way better than watching good ones. making fun of bad storylines, stupid characters or horrible editing was one of your favorite past times.

'I guess I'll have to add are you lost, baby girl to the top 10 worst lines ever spoken. who thought ah yes this is sexy, let's have him repeat it over and over again', you complained, shoving some pasta into your mouth.

'so he's like I won't do anything without your permission while he is literally groping her boobs against her will, like make it make sense, massimo', added kevin, ruffling his hair in frustration. he almost completely forgot about the food.

'so let me get this straight: he drugged her, kidnapped her, tied her up, hung up a painting of her just because he saw her face when his dad was shot?'

'totally relatable.' both of you giggled.

you were enjoying complaining about the plot. it was horrible.

there were plenty of erotic scenes but they were honestly so funny and kinda gross that you could bare it without really being affected by them. kevin, on the other hand, had placed a pillow over his hard-on to hide the embarrassing fact that these terrible, smutty scenes had turned him on.

and then the infamous boat scene came.

massimo and laura had a huge fight, she fell of the boat, he saved her and now she was suddenly so in love with him that she begs him to fuck her. which he does.

you felt your panties become increasingly wet as the couple had steaming hot sex.

'this is embarrassing but I'm so horny,' you admitted but in a way that should have suggested that you meant it as a joke. something about this statement stirred something in kevin.

'well, what can I say?' he replied and lifted the pillow. your pupils widened at the sight of your best friend's bulge.

his eyes darkened and he looked at you with lust clearly written on his face. you reciprocated his stare with the same intensity. you tried to focus on his dark brown orbs instead of his boner but the image you had just seen was present in your mind.

his gaze shifted to your lips and, before you knew it, kevin climbed above you and pressed your back flat onto the couch.

your lips locked and you immediately buried your hands in his hair to pull him closer. you moved in sync, his lips fitting perfectly onto yours. you bucked your hips up against his crotch and earned a moan from kevin. he opened his eyes in shock as realization hit him. he quickly pulled away and jumped off the coach.

'I'm so sorry, y/n. I shouldn't have just done that. I don't know what came over me,' he apologized profusely, staring at his feet. did he really think that you didn't want this?

'give me your hand,' you told him and held out your hand.

'why?' he raised his eyebrows in confusion. you rolled your eyes.

'just do it.'

you took his hand and led it to your crotch.

'what are you- oh my god.' your juices had completely soaked through your panties and your sweatpants. 'you are so wet.'

'for you,' you added. 'there's no need to apologize. I'm literally begging you to continue.'

you didn't have to say that twice before he pulled you closer to him by your hips and engaged you in another desperate kiss. his hands were groping your butt while you let yours slide under his hoodie. you felt his naked skin and toned abs, as you rubbed his stomach. you lowered your hands and bravely palmed his boner through his clothes.

'y/n,' he hissed out against your lips. you hooked your thumbs in the elastic of his pants and underwear, and pushed the material down to his thighs. he struggled to get them off.

you stroked his hard dick as he slipped his hand into your panties to massage your pussy at the same time.

he slipped one finger inside and began working it in and out. you finally were getting the relief you had been desperately craving for for so long. kevin was skilled and your walls were trying to swallow his slim finger. you were quickly coming close to your orgasm after having abstained for more than a year. you pulled his hand out.

'I bet you can make me come even better with your dick,' you challenged kevin.

'you bet I will.' he was confident.

'let me just look for a condom.' he was already turning away to go search in his room but you held him back by the arm.

'forget about it. I'm on the pill and I want you raw. I want you to come inside me and not spill into a stupid condom.'

the idea of this sounded very tempting to kevin. he picked you up and threw you back onto the couch, drawing your hips closer to him so he could pull off all the pieces of clothing that were hindering him from accessing your pussy.

he propped up his arms next to your sides and spread your thighs apart. strings of arousal were hanging from your folds and he saw your hole desperately clench around nothing. his dick hurt from how much he wanted to finally be inside of you. he wanted to find out how close he had been able to imagine how you would feel around him.

your hole took him in easily, welcoming him happily by embracing it tightly. kevin swore he could've cum right here and there.

he went slow at first to give you a chance to adjust but you were already fully ready, rocking your hips forward to meet his thrusts.

he crashed your mouths together and you kissed him like he was oxygen and you were short of air. you smiled and your eyes rolled back, satisfied with how things had played out today and the prospects of coming looked fairly promising.

desperate for release, kevin picked up the pace, his eyes closed while fucking into you like a horny animal. he couldn't help himself and all the 'faster's and 'harder's spilling from your mouth only encouraged him to drive himself deeper into you.

you wrapped your legs around his torso in an attempt to regain the control you were losing.

'fuck fuck fuck,' you cursed, feeling your muscles starting to contract. kevin brushed away some hair that was stuck to your sweaty forehead.

'it's fine, I'm coming too,' he announced and it took only a few more thrusts before a body shaking orgasm flushed over you, making you see only white. this drove kevin over the edge too and he spilled inside you, filling you up with his hot cum. he continued to slowly ease his dick in and out of you, fucking his semen right back into you until you had ridden out both of your orgasms. he let himself fall onto the couch right next to you, panting hard.

'I very much needed this,' you sighed in content.

'same, I wasn't sure whether I could hold out any longer without having a proper orgasm.' he watched his cum drip out of you.

'we should've thought of this sooner,' you said. 'this was a great idea.'

kevin hummed in agreement.

***

so now you and kevin were having sex on a regular basis, your high score being five times in a day. it felt good to finally live out your sexuality and not having to restrict yourself. sure, you guys did it more than necessary but it was a great way to pass time and it felt fucking amazing.

today you had done it in the shower after waking up, then on the kitchen counter and you had just finished having sex in his bed.

he was spooning you from behind, his cock still placed inside of you. he nuzzled his nose into your neck.

'stop, that tickles,' you chuckled.

'sorry.'

after a while of comfortable silence you heard him let out a big sigh.

'what's wrong?' you asked as he pulled out of you. you turned around to be able to look at him.

'I don't think I can do it like this anymore,' he confessed.

'what do you mean?' you asked. 'are you talking about us having sex?'

he nodded. your heart dropped and you started feeling dizzy. you tried to search for answers in his eyes but he avoided looking at you.

'w-why?' you stuttered, trying to hold back the tears that were welling up in your eyes.

'it was amazing at first,' he started and finally raised his head to meet your gaze, 'and I went into it without much thought. I went crazy during quarantine and began fantasizing about having sex with you. then it became reality but now I understand that was probably wrong of me. I've always thought of myself as a gentleman, yet I slept with you without much thought. you see, my issue is this…'

suspense hung in the air and you were impatiently waiting for him to get to the point.

'I like you.'

you quietly gasped in surprise. you had been expecting him to say you were bad at sex and that he regretted everything but not this.

'I shouldn't be sleeping with you unless you were my girlfriend,' he finished off his ramble. you felt immensely relieved.

'do you want me to?' you asked him.

'want you to what?' kevin was confused. he had been a hundred percent sure you'd immediately jump out of the bed in disgust when he confessed.

'be your girlfriend. after all, I like you too, you moron.' you realized that you had known this for a while. you might have even been crushing on your best friend since way before the pandemic struck but it was kind of hard to track your feelings. still, you were sure you liked him too. now that he had admitted his feelings, you were able to admit yours not only to him but to yourself as well.

'wow, I didn't expect this,' kevin confessed surprised. you laughed.

'yeah, we should've realized this sooner.' he pulled you closer and kissed you. it was different than the other times. his lips moved softly against yours, in contrast to all of your rough and passionate kisses you had exchanged these past few weeks. he conveyed his emotions through the kiss.

'you're ready again?' you groaned as you felt kevin's dick harden against your upper thigh. he chuckled.

'sorry, you just turn me on so much.'

so then you did it for the fourth time. that day, you set a new record of having sex six times. you might have been happy now but still just as horny.

[fific7]

Ticket to Ride - Part 2

Billy Russo x Reader

A/N: Inspired by The Beatles song of the same name. This takes place in my S1 Punisher AU with Arrogant!Billy in attendance, in which he gets a taste of his own medicine.

Warnings: 18+ NSFW due to sexual content, including oral, between consenting adults* in some chapters. Drinking and swearing.

*Irl, please don’t go wild in the country without protection.

(My photo edit)

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

𝕊𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕒𝕚𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕝𝕚𝕧𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕨𝕚𝕥𝕙 𝕞𝕖 𝕚𝕤 𝕓𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕙𝕖𝕣 𝕕𝕠𝕨𝕟, 𝕪𝕖𝕒𝕙

𝕊𝕙𝕖 𝕨𝕠𝕦𝕝𝕕 𝕟𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕣 𝕓𝕖 𝕗𝕣𝕖𝕖 𝕨𝕙𝕖𝕟 𝕀 𝕨𝕒𝕤 𝕒𝕣𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕕

𝕊𝕙𝕖'𝕤 𝕘𝕠𝕥 𝕒 𝕥𝕚𝕔𝕜𝕖𝕥 𝕥𝕠 𝕣𝕚𝕕𝕖

𝕊𝕙𝕖'𝕤 𝕘𝕠𝕥 𝕒 𝕥𝕚𝕔𝕜𝕖𝕥 𝕥𝕠 𝕣𝕚𝕕𝕖

𝕊𝕙𝕖'𝕤 𝕘𝕠𝕥 𝕒 𝕥𝕚𝕔𝕜𝕖𝕥 𝕥𝕠 𝕣𝕚𝕕𝕖 𝕓𝕦𝕥 𝕤𝕙𝕖 𝕕𝕠𝕟'𝕥 𝕔𝕒𝕣𝕖

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

The aircraft door opened and you stepped out gratefully onto the air jetty. You weren’t scared of flying, you just didn’t like being cooped up in a flying tube for several hours on end. Up an escalator and along a short corridor and then you were able to see outside through the floor-to-ceiling windows. The sky was beginning to shade into the colours it would take on for dusk. It looked like it had been a nice day and you hoped the good weather would continue for your stay.

Karen had texted you while you were sitting on the plane at JFK, waiting for it to push back. Frank had told her that Micro had tracked your phone to the airport so boy, were you glad you’d turned off your old phone and switched to the new one when you did. She’d also told you that Billy had asked him to find out where you were headed, and your heart sank. You knew it wouldn’t take long for Micro’s vast and nerdy computer skills to find you but then again, London was a huge city and they’d have no idea whereabouts in it you’d gone to ground, thanks to your new ‘burner phone’.

You were feeling super-excited. This was beginning to feel like an action movie, with you on the run from the bad guys.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

“London??!!” Billy shouted, making Frank quickly move his phone away from his ear on the other end. “Yeah, London,” he replied.

Billy was back at his usual post by the window. “I mean... obviously I knew she was gonna fly somewhere but I thought it would the West coast, Miami, Seattle, Alaska... somewhere like that. But to go to a whole other continent....!!!!” Frank sighed, “Yeah, Bill, sounds like she’s really not keen to bump into you anytime soon.” “Yeah, thanks for remindin’ me.” “Bill, you brought this on yourself, buddy.” “I know!” yelled Billy, “An’ all I wanna do is get her back and make it up to her for the rest of my life, and all I know is she’s in London! Do you know how big that place is?” “Yeah, I do. And t’be honest... I dunno how you’re gonna even try to find her over there.”

There was a silence on the other end of the phone. “I mean...” Frank continued, “I’m guessin’ you are gonna go over there and try to find her, Bill?”

Billy’s shoulder twitched upwards briefly, and he stared intently out the window at the New York skyline.

“Yeah, Frankie... yeah, I damn well am.”

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

You’d left two of your big suitcases and the backpacks in a luggage storage facility at JFK, travelling with just the one suitcase and a large shoulder bag. You took the overground Heathrow Express to Paddington before negotiating a change onto the Tube to reach Tower Hill DLR station, boarding one of the driverless trains out to Canary Wharf. Settling back into your seat, feeling pretty proud of yourself for managing not to get hopelessly lost.

Your AirBnB apartment was in a part of the city called Docklands, beside the Thames on the Isle of Dogs. It was an area of shiny skyscraper offices and fancy apartment blocks built round the old docks, and your accommodation for the next two weeks was in one of those. You were suitably impressed when you got inside it... open plan, all trendy furniture and gleaming fittings. Big, big windows with views of the river and the tall buildings.

Your phone chimed and you saw a text from Karen on your notifications. Taking your suitcase and bag into the bedroom, you went back out to the main area and sat on the sofa to read it. Oh. Billy now knew you were in London, and had apparently booked a flight over - he’d be arriving tomorrow. Your heart rate sped up; Billy was a sniper, used to finding, stalking, watching his prey. But, you told yourself, he had no idea whereabouts in the city you were and no way of finding you.

Relax.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Billy stepped off the Heathrow Express, looking around for signs indicating where the taxi rank was. He’d been looking at the Tube map during the train journey. Nah, fuck that.

He was too wired to even think about getting to London Bridge on the Underground, or ‘Tube’ as he found out Londoners called it. His brain had been working overtime trying to figure out how the hell he was going to find her in a city the size of London. She’d stay central, surely - she wouldn’t head to the suburbs, he felt confident of that.

Getting into the first taxi in the queue, he drawled out, “The Shard, please.” The taxi driver nodded and pulled away from the station without saying anything. Thank fuck, thought Billy, I can’t be dealing with a talker right now. But just as the thought had left his head, the driver’s London accent said, “First time in London, guv?” Billy sighed, “No. No, it isn’t.” In fact it was, but he wasn’t about to tell the driver that. He’d only end up getting taken on the ‘scenic route’, double the time, double the price.

The driver grunted and turned up the radio... really annoying music could now be heard but Billy would take that over inane small talk any day. He looked out of the windows at the city streets and his mind went back to his mission. Mission impossible. Finally he saw the river and the taxi crossed a wide bridge before pulling up outside the lofty skyscraper that was The Shard. According to the blurb he’d read on some travel website it was the tallest in Western Europe, and while there were taller buildings in New York, the shape of this one made it look quite dramatic.

He paid and got out of the taxi with his expensive wheeled duffel bag, heading to the Shangri La entrance of The Shard and going inside. (It’s one of the priciest hotels in London - of course). Checked in at reception on the 35th floor, he was then whisked up to his room on the 52nd by another express lift. The windows were huge and the views spectacular.

Once again, he was gazing out of a window at a cityscape.

Where is she?

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Your first full day, you occupied yourself with getting to know the surrounding area, doing some grocery shopping and sitting on your large balcony, enjoying the view and relaxing with a glass of wine.

Every time a plane went overhead you wondered if Billy was on it - he was due here today. You shook yourself a little, you’d just have to stop thinking about it. He wouldn’t find you.

Your mind wandered unbidden to his recent behaviour. Knowing Billy was a player from day one, you’d still got involved with him. More fool you. Another old cliché.... you thought you’d be the one to change him. And you thought you had. You’d dated him for a few months, he seemed to have ditched his old hound-dog ways and when he’d asked you to move in with him, you’d agreed without thinking it over too deeply.

Now, looking back, it seems like you’d made a big mistake.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Micro had spent quite some time constructing a query table that he could run against accommodation reservations in London for her arrival day. She had no reason to book under another name and he’d just have to run with that assumption.

When Billy had come directly to him instead of going via Frank to ask that he try and track down her reservation, Micro had been too scared to refuse. Billy still really unsettled him - he always reminded him of a circling predator.

This query would take a while to run. He hit the go button and wandered off to work on another project while it tunnelled its way through layer upon layer of data.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Billy was pacing his swanky hotel room like a caged panther. He’d given up on the idea of roaming the streets of London trying to spot his target, that was just one dumbass idea. He’d never find her that way, much better to just wait on that geeky twat to come up with the answer with his internet wizardry.

He’d spoken to Frank earlier, who had nothing new to report. Billy wouldn’t allow himself to feel guilty at cutting him out of the loop on his recent ask to Micro. He wasn’t stupid enough to believe that Frank wouldn’t mention it to Karen. Much as he loved him like a brother, Frank was a big sap when it came to Karen and he knew he’d give in and tell her, probably sooner rather than later.

However Frank had told him that Madani had called earlier that day, wanting to know where Billy was and why she couldn’t get in touch with him. Billy had figured out that his girl had got herself a new phone, and he’d followed suit. Which is why Dinah hadn’t been able to reach him. “Whaddya tell her?”he’d asked. “That you were on an overseas operation and were incommunicado.” “Good,” nodded Billy, “....that takes care of that little problem for a while at least,” feeling a sense of relief.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Frank cut the call, a grim smile on his face. He hadn’t been completely straight with Billy, but it was for his own good. What he’d told Madani, however, had been the unadulterated gospel truth.

He’d said to her that Billy had hared off to Europe in pursuit of his live-in girlfriend, who’d suspected him of cheating on her and left him. He was absolutely determined to get her back.

He’d taken great satisfaction in the dead silence on the other end of the line, eventually punctuated by an angry snort and the call being abruptly ended.

That ‘little problem’ was hopefully taken care of for good.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Micro looked at his phone as it beeped at him, the notification saying that his query was complete. That had taken much longer than he thought it would. Now he could only hope it hadn’t returned too many matches as he’d thought it prudent to run it on surname only.

He pulled up the results table and was pleased to see that there were only a thousand or so, he’d feared there would be many more. He scrolled through the list and quickly pinpointed the one he’d been looking for.

With a deep sigh he picked up his phone, typed “Wood Wharf, Water St, London E14”, a building and apartment number into a new message, then hit send. It would be the early hours of the following morning in London, so he very much doubted that Billy would leap out of bed and head right over there.

He finished eating his supper, drank a beer and settled down to watch TV when his conscience started bothering him. Should he? He shivered when he thought about what Russo might do to him if he found out.

Popping another bottle of beer open, he sat and contemplated what he should do for quite a while. He suddenly picked up his phone, sending a quick text to Frank telling him about the whole situation and including the fact that Russo now had her London address.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

While you were lounging on your balcony, sipping your wine and watching the world go by, it suddenly occurred to you that this would be a great base to work out of for a while. You messaged the estate agent and extended your stay to one month, with an option to extend if required.

Then, on a whim, you booked a flight to Barcelona early the next morning from City Airport - it was really close to your apartment even if the flights were a bit more expensive. You’d been doing a little research into other destinations to explore, and having a base in London to travel to and from made you feel much more comfortable. The W Barcelona had caught your eye while you’d been browsing for accommodation and as you were only going for a few nights, you’d booked in there.

Feeling extremely pleased with yourself, you got up and went into your bedroom, looking for a folded-up smaller travel bag you knew you’d packed in your luggage. Finding it, you began to choose some outfits for your short trip, thinking what a joy it was that you could now leave your large suitcase here.

But damn, you were going to have to be up early tomorrow. Best to get an early night, you thought, immediately yawning.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Billy shot up in bed as his phone chimed with Micro’s text. When he read the information in the text, contrary to Micro’s belief he did leap out of bed and started pulling on his clothes (Micro had forgotten that this was an ex-Marine he was dealing with here).

He sat back down on the bed and googled the location. Oh okay, East London.... Docklands. Too far to walk and he didn’t think the Tube ran at this hour. Then he pulled up the Uber app and booked an immediate pick-up.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Walking into the terminal building at City Airport, you were in the middle of a total yawning fit when a text came in. It was from Karen and you stopped, putting down your bag so you could read it.

Karen: Sorry to tell you this hon, but Billy went direct to Micro 🙄 and intimidated him into finding your London accom. Frank’s told him not to do that again no matter how much he’s shitting himself! Please take care of yourself 💋

You: Bastard 👿 thanks for the heads-up, I will do 😘

Picking your bags up again, you hurried over to one of the automated check-in machines to get your luggage tag.

Whoever had said ‘timing is everything’ had definitely got that right.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

“Oi!!!” yelled an irate male voice. Billy turned his head to see a groggy-looking tousle-haired guy, obviously just having been woken up. “Keep the noise down!”

Billy said nothing, just gave the guy his death stare. His head quickly disappeared back inside his apartment.

After pressing the buttons of a few apartment numbers at the main entrance, someone had buzzed him in and he’d been pounding on her apartment door for the last five minutes. But there was no response, and he knew she wasn’t that heavy a sleeper.

He slid tiredly down onto the floor outside her door. Had she somehow known he was on his way over here? No.... how would she know that?

His head dropped down in momentary defeat and he ran his fingers through his hair, groaning.

She hadn’t moved on already, had she?

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

The plane lifted off the tarmac, and immediately you felt a huge sense of relief. You just weren’t ready to see Billy right now - you’d probably kill him if you did, ex-Marine or not.

Now you were off on your next adventure.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

London

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

@blackbirddaredevil23 @galaxyjane @omgrachwrites @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead @ourloveisforthelovely @swthxrry @odetostep @supernaturalcat7 @obscurilicious @strawb3rrydr3ss

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

[2jaeh]

Body Paint | Wong Hendery

Genre: fluff, mature themes

Warnings: slight nudity, body painting ?, slight hair pulling, dirty talk

Words: 1,5k

AUTHOR SIN

Youre partnered up for a painting project with Hendery, when he has the the brilliant idea of painting each other...for the project Ofcourse.

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

You set a couple canvases onto the wooden floor of the studio you and Hendery had rented for your upcoming art project. It was for the varsity final exhibition and the task was to be completely experimental while perfectly collabing with your partner. Hendery, the quirky black haired boy you were partnered with walked into the room sipping on his ice coffee, 

“Any ideas yet ?” He smiled sweetly as he set down his backpack and walked over to the tray of paint. 

“Nah” you shook your head and sat crossed legged on the floor, “what about you ?” 

Hendery joined you on the floor before pulling out his ipad and you scooted closer to him to take a look. Your eyes widened when his pinterest board was practically filled with body painting art pieces, ranging from a back piece to a completely full body canvas. 

“B-body painting ?” you raised an eyebrow, 

“Yeah, I think it's interesting and it will perfectly showcase a collab as well as create something different from everyone else” Hendery explained and sipped the last bit of his drink. 

You wrinkled your nose at the screen, unsure of how this was going to work, how much body would you be painting exactly ?

“Problem ?” Hendery chuckled, leaning back on his elbows as he stared up at you, 

“How much are we painting ?” you scratched your head nervously, eyes still locked on the majority of his moodboard being close to nudity. 

“I think full body, front or back your choice” Hendery answered calmly, “I brought my tripod and camera so we can do it now, take a few pictures and edit it for the exhibition”

You stood up and Hendery discarded his coffee cup and immediately brought his shirt over his head. 

You stood up and Hendery discarded his coffee cup and immediately brought his shirt over his head. 

You stood up and Hendery discarded his coffee cup and immediately brought his shirt over his head. 

“Wait you're for real, don't we need to plan ?” you stuttered as the boy continued to strip down to his black boxers. 

“We should go with the flow I think it would look better if it was freestyled” He replied as you took in his confident semi nude figure waltzing around the room. 

You thanked the heavens you were in somewhat decent underwear today, especially ones that aren't too revealing. Hendery locked the studio doors and taped a piece of paper over the window just in case and began mixing paints as you reluctantly began undressing. 

“Don't be nervous, remember those people who were butt ass naked in our class two weeks ago ?” Hendery chuckled as he continued doing his duties. 

“Oh yeah that was really something” you reminded yourself of that dreadful experience. The only reason why you agreed to Hendery’s plan was because you were comfortable around him despite never seeing each other like this. He was an extremely sweet person and had always been respectful toward you and your peers. 

“Front or back ?” Hendery asked as he stood on the plastic sheet he laid out. 

“Back, I really don't want to be face to face with your uhm” 

Hendery burst out laughing when he realized what you were hinting at, “noted.” 

You gathered your favourite colours and got to work on his back, which was gloriously broad and honestly the perfect human canvas. Hendery hissed at the cold paint making contact with his skin but finally eased up when you began your workflow. It felt awkward at first but eventually became fun, as you watched your piece come to life against his golden skin. 

“I guess you're going with a darker style huh? I've always liked your work” Hendery mused as he lifted his arm making it easier for you to cover his ribcage. 

“I'm surprised you like it since your style is the complete opposite of mine” you chuckled, “its like good meets evil”

“I think that's why this idea is really going to be perfect, wow I can't wait to see the outcome of it” Hendery stretched up in turn making his muscles flex, which was quite...the sight. 

You were coming close to the details around the side of his neck and the closeness made Hendery really take notice of you, like really take notice. He watched you concentrate as you worked on his skin, your tongue darting out while painting was incredibly cute to him. 

Hendery had no idea you paid attention but you were definitely aware of him studying you and it kind of made you feel a bit more comfortable that you weren't the only one ogling. 

“Okay i'm done!” You took a step back and admired your work, “It actually looks pretty good.”

Hendery stood at the backdrop while you snapped a few solo pictures of him and showed off your artwork. “Wow it looks dope, those demons on my thighs are kinda sexy” he teased and you rolled your eyes, “they're supposed to be creepy not sexy” 

“They can be creepy and sexy, just like you” Hendery stuck his tongue out, “come on demon princess it's your turn.”

You and Hendery both agreed on a front facing canvas since it was a good contrast to your piece on him. You sucked in a deep breath as Hendery neared you with the brush and the instant contact made you flinch, 

“Too cold?” he cooed, as he carefully began working on your sternum area. 

“Y-yeah” you chuckled nervously as you felt his warm breath hit your chest, Hendery looked up at you, eyes slightly narrowed before his lips curled into a grin,  “I'm sure you can handle anything babe.”

Where the hell did the sweet boy from earlier disappear to and why the hell did he just turn you on with just his words ?

Hendery quietly painted away, making sure to steal glances at you and his fingers danced lightly across your skin. He was gentle, making sure to touch you appropriately at all times even though you wished he wasn't so courteous for a second. 

“Okay I'm all done we should take pictures before it gets messy” Hendery ran over to the camera and began snapping a few shots of you. You were about to walk over to the camera to see his work when he held his hand up to stop you. “Wait we need to take a few together! I just want both canvases to look perfect”

You nodded and stood back in place while Hendery set up a self timer and jogged over to you. Thinking it was just a normal picture you stood as you were before but Hendery moved your arm to caress his face while he faced the other way and wrapped his arm around your waist. 

“Art is sexy remember” He winked as you recalled that stupid line your fine arts lecturer once said. You bit down on your lip and got into position, feeling a sense of excitement of Hendery’s grip being a little firmer than before. 

Hendery set the camera up once more and this time you orchestrated a position where Hendery stood behind you, showing a good portion of his back piece, and you faced front while he and you and him interlaced fingers. 

“For the finale we should make out, and kinda show the aftermath of the canvas” Hendery suggested and bit down on his lip, “are you okay with doing that?”

“Eh yeah that's actually a good idea” You agreed and Hendery quickly set up another self timer. 

Hendery grabbed your face in his hands as you wrapped your arms around his waist and looked up at him. His bright eyes suddenly darkened as they drifted down to your lips and pressed them against yours. The kiss was heated, crazily passionate for two people who had no prior feelings for each other. Hendery’s lips were soft and sweet, you could still taste the coffee on his tongue from earlier. His hand moved to your hair and he surprised you by slightly tugging on it which caused you to moan into the kiss. 

“Oh you into that huh?” he purred, and sucked your bottom lip between his teeth. 

He made you dizzy with lust. One simple kiss and you wanted him right then and there. He wasn't shy to grab your ass either as it was the only thing he was thinking about for the past four hours. 

“I think the….shutter...went off” you tried to catch your breath as Hendery’s lips already moved to your jaw and his hand gently squeezed his artwork around your throat. 

“Mmm, oh yeah” He sighed and licked his lips, breaking away from you and made his way over to the camera. Hendery sat up the final shot for the messed up canvases finale and made his way back over to you. 

The two of you posed side by side but you both could clearly hear the other person panting heavily after that heated kiss. 

The camera shutter went off and Hendery grabbed hold of your wrist and turned you to face him, “So y/n, There's only one shower” he smirked, “...do you want to wash away our artwork together ?”

[annab-nana]

My Dork - Colby Brock

Sam and Colby invite you and Jake to explore a recently abandoned hospital with them and things don’t go according to plan.

@traphousedaily’s favorite xplr video project with: @lonely-xplr, @sarcasmhadachild, @gothtara, @reddesertcolbs, @reinad-snc, @cartiercolby, @colbylover99, @xplrtrash, @goddess-of-time-and-magic, @xolbyz, @myguiltypleasures21

A/N: I didn’t have a lot of time to edit this one, so sorry for any errors there might be :)

Warnings: some curse words

Word Count: 1.8k+

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

“This is the Saint Luke’s Medical Hospital,” Sam announced as he zoomed in on the large building ahead of you four. You were slightly freaked out by the number of signs telling you that there was a guard dog around that you should beware of, but the boys did not seem to care that much.

“Look, there’s a big fat boob on the top,” Jake whispered to the camera as he pointed to the brown dome shape that sat at the top of the building that also had a small cone on top of that, resulting in a breast shape.

“There’s a big fat boob right here,” Colby giggled as he pointed to your chest. Your eyes widened and you stifled a laugh. You two made those kinds of jokes all the time, but he has never done it on camera.

“Colby!” you shouted before chuckling at the joke. The other two boys laughed as well before continuing to walk forward.

“You’re supposed to honk ‘em, right?” Jake asked as he made grabby hands, still going along with the boob joke. He then made a car honking noise with his mouth, causing you three to burst out in laughter.

“Yes, Jake. Go do that. Your goal today is to get to the top and honk that boobie,” Sam influence his friend before Jake ran ahead and he made grabby hands towards the building.

“How do we explain that to security if we get caught? Like what were you doing in here? We’re trying to honk boobies,” Colby joked as you rolled your eyes, realizing you were stuck to explore this hospital with three immature idiots. A noise caught you all off guard and you looked to Colby as he looked off at the building.

“That’s the dog,” Sam mumbled, looking in the same direction as Colby. You walked forward with the group to see the dog that sat behind the glass-paneled door. The dog barked with each step you guys got closer. You, Jake, and Sam backed away, but Colby’s dog-loving heart got closer to talk to it.

“We’re gonna come explore this hospital, okay? And we’re just going to look around for a second, alright? And then, we’re gonna leave, okay?” he told the pup in his talking to animals voice.

“Wait, dude, if there’s a dog right there, that means there’s a person right next to it,” Sam warned.

“There’s just a guy just listening to me say ‘We’re just going to explore this hospital’,” Colby laughed at the thought as he walked away from the dog. You all went around the building to find the door that y’all saw earlier when checking the perimeter of the place. There was a door that was wide open, so you all figured that would be the best way to enter. Once you guys arrived at the door, Colby peeked his head in and began making kissy noises.

“What are you doing?” Sam asked his best friend.

“I’m just making sure the dog knows that we’re coming in,” he spoke with a giggle. “Dude, wait. This is the part where we decide right now, do we wanna get bit by a dog or do we wanna be safe?”

“Did you bring the meat?” Sam asked Jake and Colby before the two pointed at each other.

“Colby’s got a fat ass. Bro, that dog has food for days. Ain’t that right, y/n?” Jake asked you as you nodded your head confidently.

“Why do I always have to go first?” Colby whined before grabbing the camera from Sam and walking forward. When he walked in the door, you all heard a click. You all walked away from the door to discuss the noise before deciding to go back.

“Dude, the click was because this door is automatic,” you told them when Sam went in and waved his hand near the door.

“Yeah, that’s it,” Sam said as he popped back out. “But it smells really bad. We should put on our masks in here.”

Colby handed you and Jake each a mask from Sam’s backpack before you put on the infamous black mask. Now, it was finally time to go in. Sam led the pack as he filmed, you and Colby followed with joined hands, and Jake was the caboose as he looked around at everything.

“You look adorable in your mask,” Colby bent down to whisper.

“You can only see my eyes, you asshole,” you giggled.

“Yeah, but I love your eyes.” You batted your eyelashes at the compliment before maintaining your focus ahead of you once more. Y’all made it to some stairs and made sure to take light and slow steps to lessen the risk of noise so the dog won’t find you. Once up the stairs, you went through a door that was already cracked open.

As you walked down the hallway with the guys, you realized how cool it was that you were doing. You had explored plenty of abandoned places with Colby, but they were all run down and broken and dirty. This place, however, still had running lights and literally felt like you were in a running hospital that had zero people in it.

You guys roamed the halls slowly as you tried to stay quiet. Eventually, you reached what looked like the hall where the patients lived. Everything was dead silent before Jake dropped something and it landed with a loud thud that bounced off the walls for anyone in the building to hear.

“Jake!” you whisper shouted.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, and you all moved to leave the room, not before he ran into something else and caused a ruckus. He muttered another apology and y’all left the room.

“Listen, we’re gonna fucking die. We’re gonna fucking die if y’all don’t stop making fucking noise. Okay?” Colby whispered to Sam who was filming him. You let out a small giggle before Jake spoke.

“It was my fault. I’m sorry.” Moments later, he made yet another noise while shutting a door behind him. Sam and Jake split off one way down the hall while you and Colby went the other.

“Yo, look at this,” Colby whispered when he knelt down to grab a sign that was laying on the floor. He turned around before showing it to you. It was a sign that told you which way the surgery recovery unit was and the stroke specialist unit too. “Should I keep this?”

“I don’t see why not.” He did a small happy dance and kissed you on the cheek before walking back to Sam and Jake.

Next, y’all found the best part of the building. It still had chairs and beds and literally looked like an actual hospital. You found the waiting area where the room was lined with red chairs. The next room over had some beds in it, but that was it. The last room in the hall looked the best. It had beds, counters, cabinets, an overhead light that you could move around, but you guys couldn’t stay long because a whistle was heard. So quickly, you four took a thumbnail picture before trying to leave. Of course, the boys got sidetracked when they saw a microphone that was linked to a speaker system.

“Sir, your penis appointment is scheduled,” Jake whispered into the mic before Colby went next.

“Could we have Larry with the case of gonorrhea come to the front office please. Thank you.”

Then, they realized it was time to go. Y’all speed-walked the way you came, but when you guys reached a door, Colby accidentally pushed the handle and an alarm sounded went off.

“Oh, shit. Shit. Shit. Shit,” Sam mumbled as speed walking turned into running. You four ran down the stairs and out of the building. Y’all walked slowly for a second to catch your breath and then took off again for the car. You threw open the back door and slipped in, leaving the door open so Jake could get in too. Colby placed the surgery sign next to you and got in the front. Right as Colby drove off, a police car passed by and turned into the hospital.

“That was crazy,” you stated as your breathing finally calmed down.

“I kinda wanna explore more of it next time,” Jake told Sam. You looked at him with wide eyes. The one who caused most of the noise wanted to go back. He may not have tripped the alarm this time, but if there was going to be a next time, he definitely would be the one to do it. “I feel like we should do a part two.”

“I feel like we should do a part two to that,” Sam agreed as he looked to Colby. Jake and Sam kept encouraging the idea before Colby spoke up.

“Yo, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“You don’t think that’s a good idea?” Sam questioned.

“No, we just barely got out of there.” Colby continued.

“And Jake can’t stay quiet to save his life,” you added before Jake gasped.

“Hey!”

“It’s true,” you told him with a smile.

“What if we bring dog treats?” Sam suggested.

“For the police? Because the dog wasn’t coming for us. It was the police,” you said to them.

“Okay, let’s think reasonably here,” Colby told Jake and Sam.

“What if we did? Like what if we got dog treats?” Jake imagined.

“No,” Colby protested.

“Do you think they’re trained not to care about anything?” Sam asked.

“Yes!” Colby said with enthusiasm. You rolled your eyes in the backseat. Sam was supposed to be the smart one, but right now, he wasn’t really showing that. “Okay, you really think a dog is gonna see you and start charging at you and you’re like ‘Hey, here’s a treat. Go get it,’ and it’s just gonna go. Like, come on now.”

“That stuff only happens in cartoons, Sam,” you told the blond.

“Alright, eighty-five thousand likes and we’ll do it,” he said to the camera as he completely ignored what you and Colby had said which you two gave up and nodded along.

Later on when you all came back to the trap house, you and Colby laid in bed to think about what had happened.

“That was crazy,” you started as your head hit his chest.

“I can’t believe they thought we just needed some dog treats, and it would all be better.”

“I can believe that Jake would think that, but I thought Sam was smarter than that.” You both laughed before silence fell over you two.

“But that place was really cool and pretty. Thanks for taking me,” you whispered.

“You’re really cool and pretty,” Colby added in.

“You are such a dork,” you giggled before kissing his lips.

“I’m your dork though.”

“Yes, you are my dork.”

[omgjasminesimone]

The Moments in Between

Dakota x MC

Word Count: ~3,800

A/N: Accompanies my fic Life Goes On, set in the missing ten years.

High School Graduation

Dakota tears his eyes away from the view outside his hospital window when he hears the distinctive sound of Sage’s favorite high heels approaching his door.

He smiles when he gets his first glimpse of her in her graduation regalia. “Wow Teach, you look great. Congratulations, graduate.” This is also his first time seeing her new hair extensions. Now that his hair is starting to grow back, Sage is back to her usual hairstyle.

Sage smiles, bounding her way over to his bed and tucking herself under his arm. “Congratulations to you too, Dakota. I have your diploma.” She reaches for her bag that she’s dropped on the floor, pulling out his framed diploma and handing it over reverently.

“Can’t believe I’m a high school graduate now.” Dakota reveals, reading the diploma closely. He assumes had he been well enough to attend the graduation ceremony, it would have felt more real.

“There are very few people who could complete all their senior year assignments and exams while fighting cancer. I’m so proud of you Dakota.” Sage praises, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“I’m proud of you. It’s incredible how you managed school and my cancer.” Dakota insists.

Sage shrugs, nuzzling into his neck. “It was no biggie. I had a very cozy seat on the sideline.” She quips.

Dakota frowns, tearing his eyes away from his diploma to look at his girlfriend. “You know I didn’t mean that. I would never have gotten through this without you, Sage.”

Sage smiles, placing a sweet peck to his lips. “I know. I just like to bring that up every so often so you’ll tell me how much you love me.”

Dakota chuckles, shaking his head fondly. “I love you a lot, Sage.”

“I love you too Dakota.” She gives him another kiss, gently taking his diploma from him to place on the side table. “I missed you today. I’m sorry you had to miss your graduation.” Sage laments.

“I was hoping to be out of here by today, but it’s okay. The transplant almost failing really put things in perspective. I’m just grateful to be alive. Universe willing, hopefully I’ll get to attend college graduation.”

“You will. I know it. You’re a fighter Dakota.”

“You give me something to fight for, Teach.”

...

Discharged

Dakota can’t miss the arrival of his friends and girlfriend as they loudly come down the Edenbrook hallway, arguing the whole way.

“I can’t believe you like Alec. God, he’s the absolute worst. I can’t wait for him to get voted off Survivor.” Lennox insists.

“I love Alec! And I don’t think he’s a suck up, he’s just friendly.” Mateo insists.

“No, the friendly thing is totally an act Mateo. But I do respect Alec’s game. The point is to outwit and outplay.” Sage counters as the group enters Dakota’s room.

Sage’s whole face lights up when she spots Dakota, in his normal clothes instead of a hospital gown. She practically flies across the room, launching herself into his arms. “Happy discharge day!” She exclaims.

Dakota laughs, hugging her back tightly and giving her a quick kiss. Even though he purposely kept it chaste, Lennox pretends to gag anyway. “Thanks for coming guys. But Teach, don’t you have midterms?”

“Like we’d miss this! Dakota Winchester, finally getting out of Edenbrook. It’s like my baby bird finally leaving the nest.” Mateo teases.

Sage nods in agreement with Mateo. “Nothing could have kept me from being here today. And my professors were all very understanding. They’re letting me take make up exams this weekend.”

“You guys are the best.” Dakota insists, turning back to the bag he was packing before his friends arrived.

“Where are your parents?” Lennox asks, taking a seat on Dakota’s bed.

“Dropping off gift baskets for all the doctors who kept me alive. They really went all out on the one for your mom, Sage. Almost like it’s a...dowry or something.” Dakota reveals.

“Your parents must know that I’d happily marry their Kody, no dowry needed.” Sage quips.

“Aww.” Mateo says at the same time Lennox gripes “Ugh.”

“Good to know.” Dakota returns, winking at Sage. He zips up his bag, and looks around the room. “I think that’s everything.”

Sage slips her hand into his. “Ready to get out of here?”

Dakota squeezes her hand. “Very ready.”

A group of hospital staff are waiting just outside his room to wish him farewell.

“Do I get to ring the discharge bell?” Dakota asks his oncologist after saying his goodbyes.

“That’s usually just a thing for the kids, Dakota.” The doctor informs him.

“What?! But I was really looking forward to it! Plus, you know I’m a child at heart.” Dakota counters.

“....fine.” The oncologist gives in easily.

Dakota grins widely, squeezing Sage’s hand in excitement.

“I think I’ve got a new nickname for you, man child.” Lennox suggests.

“Nothing you say can ruin this for me, Len.” Dakota retorts as he happily makes his way over to the bell. He hands Sage his phone. “Can you record this for me, beautiful?”

Sage nods, stepping back to get him in frame. “Say, cancer free!” Sage chimes.

“Cancer free!” Dakota parrots, vigorously ringing the discharge bell.

...

College Visits

“And this is the quad! My favorite spot on campus.” Sage informs him, leading him by the hand through the Massachusetts State campus.

Dakota is recording on his phone, like always, so Sage does a little twirl for him under a cherry blossom tree. “Beautiful.” Dakota says, and Sage can’t be sure if he means the campus, or herself.

He’s trying to hide that he’s a little out of breath, but Sage can read him like a book. “I’ve made you walk too much. Here, let’s take a seat. How are you feeling?” Sage asks as she leads Dakota over to a bench.

She looks guilty, so he gives her his most reassuring smile. “I’m fine, Teach. I’ve been feeling good, and all my lab results have been good lately. My doctors think I should be able to start college in the Fall, as planned.” He’s cautiously optimistic that he won’t relapse. He’s still a little tired, and weak, but not like before he got the news his Cancer was back. Once he’s done with his 3-4 times a week outpatient visits to Edenbrook, it will be like he’s a normal young adult again. 

Sage nods, swinging her legs over his lap as she rests her head on his shoulder. “That’s so good to hear, I know how excited you are for film school. Although I’m really going to miss you when you’re further than a car ride away. But, on the bright side, I can come out to visit you in LA when the Boston weather gets completely miserable.”

“Actually Sage, I’ve been thinking about it. And moving all the way across the country from my support system and my doctors might not be the best plan right now.”

Sage frowns, looking up at him. “But your dream school is in LA.”

“You’re my dream Sage. And there are plenty of great film schools in New York. And New York is just a 4 hour bus ride away.”

“And you’re sure that’s what you want?” Sage asks, trying not to give away just how much she would love to have him closer for the next 4 years.

“Cross my heart.” Dakota lets out a little ‘hmph’ when Sage hugs him so tightly he can barely breathe. She immediately loosens her excited hold.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. I love you Sage.”

“I love you too.” She seals her words with a passionate kiss, that leaves him more out of breath than all that walking earlier.

But it’s worth it.

...

New York City

Sage enters their small studio apartment, located in one of the seedier parts of Brooklyn since that’s all they can afford on her salary, with a loud sigh. “I hate my boss.” She complains to Dakota.

He turns away from whatever he’s editing to look at her. “Another bad day?”

Sage nods miserably, and Dakota pats his lap. Sage crosses the small room in just a few steps, parking herself sideways on her boyfriend’s lap. She makes herself cozy, loosely wrapping her arms around his waist. She glances at the computer screen as he drops a kiss to the top of her head. “Is this your final project you refuse to show me?”

Still images of Edenbrook flood the editing software. “Yeah. I filmed a lot when I was sick. When Mateo was sick. To keep myself busy. Some of the clips were really compelling. So now, my final project is a documentary about Edenbrook.”

“You’re branching out from ghost movies?” Dakota’s previous school projects have all been horror films.

“In a way, it’s still a ghost movie. Gracie is heavily featured, and other friends I lost.” Dakota reveals.

“Will you play me a Gracie clip?” Sage asks tentatively, not sure she can even handle it.

Dakota drags his mouse back until Gracie’s face fills the screen, pressing play.

Dakota ends up letting her watch the entire 40 minute film. Tears are welling in Sage’s eyes by the end. “That was absolutely beautiful Dakota. Sad, but definitely compelling.”

“Thanks. It felt good to make it. Cathartic.” Dakota reveals.

Sage’s eyes skim through the open ‘Edenbrook’ folder on his computer, stopping on a sub folder labeled ‘goodbyes’. “What are those?” Sage wonders aloud.

Dakota looks where’s she pointing, flushing a little. “Oh, those. After the transplant, when I wasn’t feeling the greatest, I recorded goodbye videos for the people I care about most. To send out, you know, if I was gone.”

Sage turns to face him. “Can I watch mine?”

“Sure, if you want to.” Dakota pulls it up, and then attempts to slide Sage off his lap so he can get up. But she shakes her head.

“I’m only going to be able to watch this right here in your arms.” She insists.

Dakota leans back into the office chair, wrapping his arms around her from behind. “Okay.” He presses play.

Sage starts crying almost immediately. Dakota plants soft kisses across her shoulder as she watches, to remind her that he’s here. That he’s fine, and cancer free for almost 4 years now.

Tears are streaming down her face by the end, and she turns around in his lap to press her face into his chest. “Hey, hey, don’t cry Teach.” Dakota pleads, gripping her chin gently and using his thumb to brush tears away from her lash line.

“I can’t believe I almost lost you. I can’t imagine doing life without you Dakota. I love you so much.”

“I love you too, Sage. More than you could ever know.” This wasn’t how he was planning to do this, but as he stares into her beautiful, watery eyes, he feels like now is the perfect time. “Want to watch something happy now?”

Sage laughs, wiping at her eyes as she nods. This time, she allows him to slide her off his lap, and he goes to his backpack to pull out a flash drive that he plugs into the computer. When the folder opens, he clicks the video named ‘For Sage’ and presses play.

Sage smiles as the first image comes up, the clip Dakota filmed of her at their high school when they first met. The video continues with clips from the carnival, from hospital dates, from post hospital dates, in Boston, in LA, in New York. There are many clips of her she was unaware he was even filming, doing mundane things no one else would even think to film. It’s all weaved together so beautifully, it tells a story. Their story.

The soundtrack and clips stop suddenly, and cuts to Dakota on the Brooklyn bridge. “Lennox, you’re filming vertically!” On screen Dakota complains, prompting a chuckle from Sage as she watches.

“Don’t forget I’m doing you a favor, man child.” Lennox retorts, but then she repositions the camera horizontally like Dakota wanted.

“Thank you.” On screen Dakota adds. He clears his throat, looking sincerely into the camera. “Sage Woods, I’ve been hopelessly in love with you from the day we met. You’ve stood by me through lows and highs, mostly lows though because you’re an angel, and everyday I’m reminded how lucky I am to be able to call you my girlfriend. But, I’d be even luckier to be able to call you my wife.”

“That’s so cheesy.” Lennox complains from behind the camera.

“Len, come on. I’m gonna have to edit all this out!” Dakota complains on screen before dropping to one knee.

That’s where the video ends, and when Sage quickly turns her wide eyes to Dakota beside her, he’s on one knee with a diamond ring. “I hadn’t gotten around to editing the Brooklyn Bridge footage yet, but-“

“Yes!” Sage exclaims, dropping to her knees beside him and capturing his lips in a fierce kiss.

“I didn’t.... get to ....finish asking.” Dakota murmurs between greedy kisses.

“The answer is still yes.” Sage beams at him when he places the diamond ring on her finger.

God damn, he’s so lucky. 

...

College Graduation

As Dakota sits at graduation waiting for his name to be called, he’s starting to realize missing high school graduation might have been a blessing in disguise. He’s never been so bored.

But when they finally get to the W’s, and the film school Dean calls out ‘Dakota Winchester!’, his parents, Mateo, Lennox, and his stunning fiancé let out the loudest cheers of the entire afternoon, which makes the ceremony endlessly more entertaining.

...

Wedding

“Kody, if you keep drumming your fingers like that, you’re going to put a dent in my table.” His mother playfully complains.

Dakota stops the incessant drumming. “Sorry, I’m just...missing her more than I thought I would.” He admits.

His dad smiles, shaking his head fondly. “It was your bright idea to spend the night before the wedding apart.” He reminds him.

“It’s bad luck for me to see Sage before the wedding!” Dakota insists, to make himself feel less foolish about sleeping alone in his childhood bed tonight.

“Why don’t you call her?” His mother suggests.

“We said we wouldn’t. Hearing her voice would just make me want to drive over to her mom’s house and see her more.” Dakota reveals.

“Well Kody, it’s just 17 more hours until the wedding. After that full month of no contact in the ICU, I think you guys can do it.” His dad adds.

That reminder of the worst month of his life does make Dakota think he can get through just 17 more hours. He nods resolutely as he stares down at the table, internally giving himself a pep talk to avoid reaching for his phone.

 When he finally looks up again, both of his parents have the goofiest grins on. “What?” Dakota asks warily.

His parents share a look before turning back to him. “We’re just...so happy for you Kody. When the doctors told us you wouldn’t make it past 9, we could only think about all the things you wouldn’t get to do. We thought you’d never go to high school, never graduate from college, never have a job, never get married.....” his mom trails off, tears falling down her face.

“Mom, don’t cry.” Dakota pleads, leaning across the table so he can take her hands in his.

“They’re happy tears, Kody. It’s just been such a privilege to get to watch you grow into such a fine young man.” She concludes, standing from the table so she can hug him. His dad gets in on the action too, engulfing both in a warm group hug.

“The three of us are so proud of you Kody.” His dad adds, ruffling his hair affectionately.

“....thanks guys.” Dakota eventually settles on, unable to truly express how grateful he is.

The hours crawl by until it’s finally his wedding day. He’s more nervous than he expected he’d be as he stands at the altar.

“Psst...man child. You’ve got to calm down before you sweat stain your pits.” Lennox whispers from just behind him.

“And this is why Dakota made me the best man instead of you, Len.” Mateo taunts. He places a reassuring hand on Dakota’s shoulder. “No need to be nervous, Dakota. I’m pretty sure Sage wouldn’t leave you at the altar.”

As if in reaction to Mateo’s words, the wedding march starts.

Sage turns the corner, being walked down the aisle by her mother, and Dakota stops breathing for several moments.

She’s so beautiful, and he can’t believe his luck that in a few short moments, he can call her his wife. She smiles at him through her veil, and he smiles back through watery eyes.

...

Video Message

Dakota fiddles with the self timer on his phone, making sure to get Sage, and the London Bridge behind her, focused and in frame. Once he’s satisfied, he leaves the phone where it’s propped up against a building and makes his way over to Sage, wrapping an arm around her waist.

She grins up at him. “Ready?”

“Very ready.” He assures, giving her a little squeeze.

Sage turns back to the camera. “Hi guys! We really wanted to do this in person, but since there’s 4 months left on my London project, we thought video message was the next best thing.”

She turns to her husband. “You can say it.” She informs him with a warm grin.

“Sage is pregnant.” Dakota says into the camera, his smile so big it kind of hurts his cheeks a little.

“We’re pregnant!” Sage chimes, pressing a quick kiss to the side of Dakota’s upturned lips. “It’s still really early so we probably shouldn’t even be saying anything yet-“

“6 weeks.” Dakota interjects.

“But I just really couldn’t keep this news from the people we love most. We don’t know if it’s a boy or girl yet, maybe we can do a zoom gender reveal or something, but either way the baby’s name is going to be Dakota.” Sage explains.

Dakota smiles, dropping a kiss to her forehead. “I love you.” He whispers, low enough so the camera can’t pick it up.

“I love you too.” Sage returns, eyes shining with merriment.

Dakota looks back into the camera. “Alright, so that’s our big news. Can’t wait to see everyone when we’re back in the States. We love you guys.” After Dakota concludes, he makes his way over to the camera, turning it off.

“Are you sending it?” Sage asks, resting her head on his shoulder.

“Just editing out some of the dead space at the beginning and the end first. And maybe adding some underlying music.”

Sage shakes her head, albeit fondly. “Do you ever stop working?” She teases.

“Doesn’t feel like work when you love it.” Dakota insists. “And now....done! Sending it off now.”

Dakota wraps his arms around Sage as she leans back into his embrace. They both gaze out at the London landscape.

It can’t be more than three minutes before Sage’s phone rings. She grins at Dakota. “It’s your parents. Oh, and my mom too on the other line. Let me see if I can do a 3 way call....”

While Sage is fiddling with that, Dakota’s phone starts ringing. He glances at the contact info. “And that’s Len and Mateo.” He informs Sage before answering. “Hey guys.”

He smiles as he’s bombarded with congratulations. He looks towards his wife, who’s gesturing excitedly as she talks to their parents. He reaches for her hand, pulling her into his arms.

He can’t believe how lucky he is.

...

Heart to Heart

“Why are you filming this?” Sage complains, trying to cover her makeup less face. She feels like death, and assumes she must look it too.

“In case I ever need footage of a beautiful woman growing another human being.” Dakota quips, continuing to zoom in on her belly.

“This footage would be more appropriate for a horror movie about a woman having her skin stretched grotesquely.” Sage counters.

Dakota frowns, lifting her shirt to expose her belly and the many new stretch marks marring her skin. “There’s nothing grotesque about any of this, Teach. You’re beautiful, and miraculous.” He insists, planting kisses all over her skin.

“And you’re sweet, but also a liar.” Sage replies, running her fingers through his hair as he starts to murmur sweet nothings to their son.

“I’m gonna miss this belly when baby Dakota shows up in the next few days.” Dakota insists.

“Well, that makes one of us.” Sage retorts.

“You say that now, but once you hold him? See his adorable little face? You’re gonna want another one immediately.” Dakota theorizes.

“Doubt it. I think Dakota here is gonna be an only child. I never want to be pregnant again.” Sage insists.

“He has to have siblings.” Dakota counters.

“Why? We’re both only children. We turned out okay.” Sage defends.

“What if he needs a kidney? Or a bone marrow transplant?” Dakota asks softly, gently rubbing Sage’s belly.

Sage rises up on her elbows so she can look down at her husband. “Babe, are you worried about the baby getting sick?”

“Isn’t that something all parents worry about?”

“Not to the point of planning future spare part babies.” Sage argues.

“That’s not fair.” Dakota counters.

“And it’s not fair what you had to go through as a child, Dakota. And it’s obviously something that’s gonna stay with you. But leukemia isn’t hereditary, babe. You don’t need to worry about passing on defective genes to our baby.” Sage attempts to comfort.

“You don’t know that.” Dakota laments. “I could have more defective genes than just leukemia.”

Sage struggles to force herself into a seated position, and noticing her struggle, Dakota helps her get herself upright.

She slips her hand into his, weaving their fingers together. “Dakota, there’s nothing wrong with this baby-“

“You can’t know-“ Dakota starts to interject, but Sage raises a hand to silence him.

“And if there is something wrong with this baby, that’s something we’ll get through, together.” She squeezes his fingers comfortingly. “Okay?”

“Okay.” He reluctantly agrees after a beat. But then he quickly adds. “But I still want more than one child.”

“We can talk about that after I get this baby out of me.” Sage tries to cut off that subject. 

“Hmm...that sounds like a polite no. But I’m not done with this subject. The world needs more Sage Woods-Winchester in it. At least 3 mini yous.” Dakota insists, his smile growing when Sage can’t help but chuckle. 

“That’s easy for you to say, from your comfy seat on the sideline.” Sage teases. 

Dakota raises a hand to his heart, mock wounded. “You’re never gonna let me live that down, are you?”

“Probably not.”

“....Guess I should have died of Cancer when I had the chance.”

“.....That’s not funny Dakota.”

“...It’s a little funny.” Dakota insists, and then he leans forward to kiss Sage’s downturned lips until she’s smiling again.

...

..

A/N: Still wasn’t over With Every Heartbeat, so I had to write this out too. Now I feel better. :)

tags: @shewillreadyou @dakotasteach

[mymelodyheart]

Miles Between Us Chapter 11 ~Suspicious Minds~

Picture Edit by melodyheart

Previously in The Art of Non-Communication ...

A familiar bright red Fiat slowed down next to them just as Jamie was about to get into the car, and Ian, their brother-in-law, poked his head out of the window. "Hey, lads, guess who I just saw back in town?"

The brothers looked at each other and shrugged. 

When Ian stalled, Willie blew out an impatient breath. 

"Out with it!" Willie grumbled. "I've been away from work for far too long already."

Ian grinned. "Yer pal Christie."

Jamie waved a hand in the air in dismissal and turned to open the car door, not particularly interested in hearing the latest coming and going in Broch Mordha. "I'm pretty sure the lassies will be thrilled he's back."

"Aye, ye're probably right, but I dinnae think ye'd be too pleased to hear if one particular lass is enjoying his company."

Jamie whipped around. "What do ye mean?" He sounded like someone just launched a flying rugby pass onto his stomach.

"Saw Claire and Tom through the window of Slater's Arms. Probably sitting down for late lunch."

  If you wish to read this on AO3, here is the link.

If you wish to read this from the beginning:

AO3 link

Tumblr link

 Claire hurriedly made her way to Slater's Arms to meet Tom Christie. They'd arranged earlier to meet at the pub after he'd dropped her off at the village centre to do her errands, so she was surprised to see him waiting outside. After exchanging a hurried cursory hello, he allowed him to guide her through the half-filled bar, his hand ever so lightly touching her elbow. They were greeted by a string of boisterous sallies from the locals, to which Tom good-humouredly responded with a couple of wisecracks of his own . It was becoming pretty clear they were in his local haunt and was well-liked by its patrons. But she also suspected there could be whispers going around, wondering what she was doing with him. Despite those thoughts, she kept her head up, and a smile plastered to her face.

After navigating through the narrow maze of tables and chairs, they opted for an empty space by the window, away from the bar where a heated football discussion was just about to begin. They simultaneously slid into their seats, sitting opposite each other, his lopsided grin and lax manner putting her immediately at ease. He was seemingly oblivious to the curious stares around them, but Claire paid no heed to the attention they were garnering and pushed her earlier encounter with Jenny away from her mind. This was a professional meeting, a welcome distraction even though it was proving an impossibility not to picture Jamie across from her. Suddenly missing Jamie, she allowed her thoughts to momentarily drift and wondered what he was up to.

"Hey."

Claire snapped out of her reverie. "Huh?"

"I asked if ye're hungry."

"Oh! Well, I'm not sure," she murmured, squinting at the specials scrawled on the blackboard hanging behind the bar. "Sort of, I guess."

"Sort of?" he laughed. "What kind of answer is that?" He passed her a menu. "Here. Ye ought to try their haggis tweeds. They have the best in this area."

She snorted, taking the menu card and skimming through it. "Really? I've never met a Scot who liked haggis, and yet every one of you lot I've met recommends it to non-locals."

"Aaahh," he leaned forward, propping his elbows on the table. "To be honest, I dinnae like haggis myself when cooked the traditional way. But the haggis tweeds are different ...more palatable. They're rolled into balls, breaded and deep-fried. I'm quite sure ye'll like them."

"Hmmm ..." When she glanced up from the menu, she met his thoughtful gaze. Though smiling, he had an odd expression on his face. "Wot?" She smoothed her hair, thinking it must be all over the place. She dreaded what her hair looked like after being caught in the rain earlier on. She wished now she'd tied it back before leaving the cottage. "Anything wrong?"

Tom shrugged his shoulders. "Just noticing ye dinnae look as upbeat as ye sounded on the phone the first time we talked. I was expecting ye to be more excited about selling me the idea of publishing my travel book. Ye kinda look as if something is bothering ye. Is anything the matter?"

She let out an exhale and placed the menu down. "I'm sorry. I've just had a rough day."

"Boyfriend problem?" he asked slowly.

She arched an eyebrow at him. Friendly as Tom was, Claire wasn't prepared to share any details of her personal life. "I just have a lot of things going on, and then you threw me out of the loop," she explained, not wanting to lie but not wanting to over-share either. "I was caught off-guard when you phoned earlier, and I wasn't expecting your call until, at least, sometime next week."

"Ye could've told me to meet at a later date. I wouldnae have minded."

"No! Today is fine," she assured him quickly. "I'm probably slowly weaning from the fast pace of hectic schedules in London, that at the first sign of change, I stumble a bit."

He grinned. "Weel, whatever is bothering ye, I dinnae like you looking so downcast. Maybe we can do something about it right now and tell ye a bit of good news. To cheer ye up."

"I like good news ..." she remarked, perking up, guessing he probably had a new picture or post on his blog he wanted to show.

"That's much better," he said when he caught a hint of a smile forming on her face. "As I was saying, I have a bit of good news. I've been giving your proposition a lot of thought ..." he shifted on his seat and took a deep breath. "I've decided I want to go ahead and publish my travel blog in print."

She blinked and swallowed before finding her voice. "But you haven't seen the projected sale and all the ..."

He waved a hand. "I'm quite sure after that impressive pitch over the phone, yer projected whatever and other wotnots ye wish to go over with me will be just as equally convincing. The idea is sold, and I'm on board."

"Just like that?"

He nodded his head, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Aye. Now that I've met ye in person, I'm pretty confident ye'll make sure I'll get a fair deal for my book. I'm a good judge of character, and I trust ye'll do what's right."

"Of course."

"So it's settled."

"Well, that's ...that's fabulous," she breathed, her mind rushing in all sorts of direction.

"This calls for a celebration, don't ye think?" he smiled, waving at the waitress.

Before Claire could reply, her purse vibrated. She pointed an index finger at Tom. "Hold that thought." She opened her bag and grabbed her phone. It was her boss, John Grey.

"Oh, hi, John! I'm in the middle of ..."

"Claire, I'm sorry to dump this on you," John said rapidly in a panicky tone. "Mary Hawkins just phoned and said she expects you to pick her up at Inverness Airport."

"Wot?!? But how? Why?" She glanced at Tom and noticed a light frown lining his brows. "She hasn't been answering any of my emails. What the hell is she doing in Inverness?" She knew it wasn't professional to be discussing another author over the phone with a potential client in front of her. But it couldn't be helped. At the moment, she was far too agitated to care. Mary Hawkins, the publishing's star author, had been elusive ever since she disappeared to France, and she'd been the reason Claire had decided to take a break in Scotland only to be given another job in the form of Tom Christie. "Please don't tell me you sent her here. I have enough on my plate as it is." She gave Tom an apologetic look, to which he just shrugged and smiled in understanding.

A frustrated sigh came from John. "I swear to God, this isn't my doing. She arrived yesterday here in London, and when she demanded to start work right away on her book, I assigned another editor. But she wouldn't have it. She insisted on working with you. So I told her you're in Inverness doing another project. And then she called a few minutes ago, demanding you pick her up at the airport. I swear I didn't know she was planning on flying to Inverness."

Oh, God! "John!" she whined. "I can't just drop everything and pick her up. I'm an editor, not a chauffeur! I'm in the middle of talks with Mr Christie."

"I'm terribly sorry for this mess, Claire but, isn't there anything you can do? Your boyfriend, perhaps? You know how Hawkins is a big deal for the company."

She took a deep breath and squeezed her eyes shut. Claire felt she was being put in a position she didn't want to be in. On top of it all, her uncle would be arriving in two days, and there was the added worry she had with Jamie and potentially Jenny. The day was definitely getting worse by the second, but Claire reminded herself she was John's only hope, and he was a friend and had always been good to her. When she finally had the strength to open her eyes again, Tom mouthed something she couldn't quite catch.

Wot do you mean? She mouthed back, shaking her head.

"Claire, are you still there?" 

"Yes!" she snapped, tamping down the urge to curse. "I'm here!"

"Well?"

She let out a frustrated breath. There was no way out of it. "Fine, John! But you owe me big time! I'll see what I can do." Damn it!

"You're a star!" John said, relief lacing his voice. "I knew I could rely on you. I'll text Hawkins to let her know you're on your way, and then I'll text you her private number. I don't think you'll have that. It's one of the reasons you couldn't get in touch with her. Anyway, let me know later how you get on."

Before she could answer, the line went dead. What the bloody hell just happened?

Claire dropped her head into her hands and groaned. She wanted to bawl, throw stuff and pull her hair out in frustration.

"Problems?"

She raised her head and looked at Tom. "I'm sorry you had to witness that. I have to cancel our meeting. I need to somehow get to Inverness and pick up this author I'm working with." Without going into too many details, Claire quickly explained her predicament, almost forgetting to breathe. By the time she finished, she was gasping for air and wondering if Tom understood what the hell she was on about. "As you can see, I probably have to organise her accommodation as well. So I really must get going." She stood up and grabbed her bag. "Raincheck?"

He got on his feet as well. "Look, I'm not doing anything for the rest of the day. How about I drive you to Inverness. I can even help you set her up."

"Tom, you don't have to."

"Hey, I'm about to get a book deal from your boss. Let me at least prove to ye what a perfect travel guide I am as I've portrayed on my blog."

Claire stopped to collect herself. On second thoughts, she did need Tom's help, and she couldn't well impose on Willie to drive her to Inverness when he'd been taking time off to check up on her ever since Jamie left. Maybe she could kill two birds with one stone and talk him through his own book's publishing process on their way to the airport. It was a brilliant idea, and hopefully, by the end of today, John would be able to draw up a contract for Tom. With a resigned smile, Claire appreciatively accepted the offer. "Alright then, but we do need to get going now."

"Absolutely. We'll go through the back door." When Claire looked at him curiously, he grinned. "I've parked the car in the staffs' parking lot. I'm good friends with the owner, so I get the privilege to walk through the kitchen and use the backdoor," he explained. Then he leaned closer to her ear and spoke in a low voice. "And if the chef is in a good mood, he might allow us to taste today's menu."

Claire laughed out loud, attracting attention from the pub's clientele. She ignored the curious stares. It was good to laugh again after the last couple of days of feeling down, and she owed it to herself to steer negativity and worries from her thoughts. "We'll stop by the cottage to get some clothes. Knowing my client, she'll probably want to stay in a posh hotel in Inverness and want to start working right away. She doesn't do bed and breakfast or small places. So I doubt she'll want to come to Broch Mordha."

Tom nodded with a smile as he took her hand and lead the way.

Heading to the back of the pub, Claire made a few mental notes on what she needed to take with her. She also reminded herself to message Willie about taking care of Rollo and Adso while she's away, hoping he would think nothing of it when he hears from the village gossip of her meeting with Tom.

...........

Jamie caught Willie's livid expression before the car started, and they were driving down the small country lane. He knew his brother was miffed with Ian, who'd sped ahead of them after revealing Claire's whereabouts with Christie. Though common sense told him he had nothing to be worried about, it had been still a punch in the gut to hear Claire was out with another man.

"Can ye speed up a bit?" Jamie muttered, shifting restlessly on his seat.

"We're not in a bloody motorway, and there are speed limits for a reason," Willie growled, his fingers flexing on the steering wheel. "And it will do ye a lot of good to use this time to calm down before we reach Claire. It's obvious ye're not thinking clearly."

Jamie almost wished he'd taken a ride with Ian instead. They couldn't see their brother-in-law's red Fiat anymore as it disappeared at a bend further ahead. But he knew Willie was right. He wasn't thinking clearly. It's just that, why it had to be Thomas Christie of all people Claire had chosen to go out with. He had nothing against the bloke, but he was a renowned player. What if Claire had grown tired of his condition and fell for Christie's charms? It wouldn't be a difficult feat as the bloke oozed charms by the bucketload. Hadn't he lost a girlfriend in the past because of Christie? Or was it because of his condition? He couldn't be sure anymore. Either way, knowing Claire was with Christie at this very moment was burning a hole in his stomach. "So ye're an expert on my thoughts now, are ye?" Jamie grunted, unable to think of a better excuse for his behaviour.

"I dinnae need to be an expert to know what ye're thinking ... it's written all o'er yer face," Willie retorted. "If ye'd called her up in the first place, then ye would've had a fair idea why she's meeting Christie, and ye wouldnae be in this stinking shite thinking the worse. The lass has been worried sick about ye, and she's put up with yer silence more than what could be expected of her. So do both yerselves a favour and calm the fuck down, aye?"

Jamie knocked back the claustrophobic sensation and forced himself to breathe. This had always been his trouble with his PTSD. He always had these intense emotions that always grew out of proportion to a point it would suffocate him, especially negatives ones like a feeling of lacking or guilt. Wasn't that what Geneva had said? There was a lot of misplaced guilt involved? And no matter what he did to get better, it was a bloody never-ending cycle that always brought him back to square one. But despite the shortcomings, he knew it would kill him if he didn't give himself a fighting chance with Claire. He might as well die trying. She was, after all, either going to be his reason for living or the reason he died. It was all right there, shining in front of him like a floodlight. 

With a sigh, he tried to relax. Jamie knew justifying his earlier behaviour was a bad idea in both their current edgy states, but nothing would stop him from seeing Claire right now. It was like a need that required satisfying, and he couldn't wait to finally see her. He focused on the road ahead of them and listened to the radio to take his mind of negative thoughts.

It's a dreich Thursday afternoon, and here's another trip down memory lane with Mac's Classics here at MFR, with the biggest hits and the biggest throwbacks. Next up is a song sure to make ye forget the dreary days ahead – Let's get rickrolling with Never Gonna Give You Up. 

"Turn it up," Jamie said suddenly, surprising his brother.

"What?" Willie glanced at him like he'd grown a pair of horns.

"I said, turn the bloody volume up!"

"Ye're joking, right? Rick fucking Astley? Nae chance pal!"

"Just do it," Jamie huffed, not caring what his brother thought of his song choice. When Claire had told him it had made her smile listening to it in the cafe the other day, he'd listened to it as well on his mother's antique record player. It was a bloody awful song, but for some strange reason, it had made him smile too.

Scowling and cursing under his breath, Willie eventually complied, and they listened to Rick Astley's song for the rest of the way. When they reached the village centre, Willie illegally parked outside Slater's Arms, carefully avoiding bumping into the menacing bollards. They were just about to get out of the car when Ian appeared from the pub, shaking his head.

Willie stuck his head out of the window. "What's the matter?"

"They're gone," Ian replied, shrugging, perplexity evident in his expression. "Spoke to Angus, and he said they didn't even order anything. They just got up and left."

Jamie got out of the car. "Did he say where they went?"

Ian narrowed his gaze at him. "I didnae ask."

Jamie ran a hand in front of his face and got back in the car. His brother had to work. There was only one thing left he could do, and it was to go back to the cottage, and if Claire wasn't there, he'd give her a call. He turned to Willie, letting out a sigh of resignation. "Just drop me off at the cottage. I've taken too much of yer time already."

"Ye sure?" Willie asked quietly. "I can drop ye off at Lallybroch. Yer car is there. Ye'll most probably need it soon, especially with more bad weather to come."

Jamie shook his head. He was certain Claire would be at home, and if not, surely later. He wasn't planning on going anywhere anytime soon but had every intention of making up for lost time with her. "It's time to go home," Jamie sighed, waving goodbye to Ian. "No more running away," 

Willie smiled, starting the car. "Good choice!" 

It was a short drive to his cottage, and by the time they pulled up outside his house, the sun started to peek out for a splinter of a moment, his driveway though occupied by an unfamiliar vehicle. As soon as he saw a man's profile sat on the driver's seat, he immediately knew it was Christie. As if anticipating his next move and before he could yank off his seatbelt, Willie slapped a hand across his chest.

"What?" Jamie wheezed.

"Claire's in the cottage. Talk to her first and find out what's going on before ye jump to any conclusions."

Jamie breathed through a laugh, but he could hear it was edged with doubt. "What if I've fucked this up?"

"Ye havenae. And it's up to ye to keep that way. Now go to her. Ye'll find out soon enough there's a perfect explanation for Christie hanging about."

Words were fighting to leave his tongue, but he clamped his lips together and held them back. Vocalising the feelings raging inside his chest would only allow his emotions to run away with him. He reigned them in and took a deep breath. Whether it's a consequence of PTSD or not, he couldn't expect Claire to understand every time. So instead, Jamie gave Willie a reassuring nod and hoped his brother was right. 

He got out of the car and walked straight to the cottage, refusing to acknowledge Christie. He knew he was being rude and could feel his brother's eyes boring into his back as well as Christie's. He didn't care because right at this moment, his primary focus was Claire. 

As soon as he opened the door and saw Claire hooking a bag onto her shoulder, he bounded across the room, dropping his face into her neck and breathing for the first time in days. "Sassenach," he whispered. "I'm so sorry for leaving ye. I wasnae thinking. Please forgive me."

Claire dropped her bag on the floor, wrapping both arms around his neck. "Jamie, you're here," she breathed into his ear. "Are you alright? God, I've been so worried about you."

"I'm alright now that I'm here and ye're here," he rasped, lifting his head for a moment and eyeing the bags on the floor. "Why are yer bags packed?"

She followed his gaze. "I ...ah ... it's work, and I have to ..."

"Ye're going back to London?"

"No!"

That's all he needed to hear. Unable to wait any longer for an explanation, he pulled her into his arms as urgency pumped in his veins. He badly needed to absorb as much as he could of her, breathing her in, in huge gulps of air. His mouth travelled over her neck, into her hair, across her lips, whispering for forgiveness, his hands restless as he touched her everywhere.

"Hey, look at me ... there's nothing to forgive," she murmured, drawing away. She placed her hands on both sides of his face and searched his eyes. "I understand what you've been going through, and I know you're fighting your hardest. It's going to be alright."

"I've missed ye." He turned his face to kiss her palm before placing her hand on his chest. "I-I thought ye're better off without me. I thought I could walk away from ye, and it would be enough knowing ye're safe from me. But nothing was right. I was sick to the soul, knowing I've left ye. I wanted ye to be with a better man than me, but now ... I'm gonnae be selfish and beg ye to let me be that man by yer side."

"Jamie, where's this coming from?" she queried. "I was worried and afraid for you, but I haven't changed my mind about us." She sighed. "Your brother told me yesterday, you were seeing a therapist this morning. Did you go today?"

Jamie swallowed and nodded, unable to still his hands, touching her everywhere, needing to assure himself he was really holding her.

"Is this why you're talking like this? Has the therapy dug up a lot of unwanted issues? Because if it has, it's perfectly normal."

"No!" He let out a frustrated breath. He'd been so unpredictable with the symptoms of his PTSD coming and going, she wasn't taking him seriously when he needed her to hear him out. "No, please listen and look me in the eye. I panicked when I saw the bruises on yer arms, and without thinking, I left. I did what I did because I didnae think I could ever be the man for ye ...a bloody disappointment, constantly causing ye grief. But I understand now why my condition is out of control at the moment ... it's because I have suppressed emotions that need to come out. It's been coming out more because all this while, ye've been the key to my healing. So I'm handing everything inside me over to ye because I trust ye, and ye're the only one who can make sense of me. I cannae promise smooth sailing, Sassenach, but there is one thing I know ye can depend on and will always be constant despite my condition. And that's my love for ye. I can guarantee ye with certainty ye can rely on that. This isnae a result of my therapy talking, alright? I willnae let ye go for anything. I can work around my condition with ye by my side, and I'll work twice as hard to get better."

"Jamie, I love you too, and I have no doubt that ..."

"Then why are your bags packed?" he questioned accusingly. "And why is Christie outside waiting for ye?" 

With a sharp intake of breath, Claire quickly explained everything from the call she received from her boss to Christie's involvement and an impatient Mary Hawkins waiting for her at the airport. 

He could tell she was itching to go by the way she tried to subtly glance at her watch, but he was feeling too selfish. "How about I drive ye to Inverness?" he cajoled, his hand stroking her hair. "Willie is still outside. We'll get my car in Lallybroch, and I'll drive ye." He suddenly felt like a bastard keeping her from doing her work.

"Jamie, no!" she said gently but firmly. He knew she was restraining herself from rushing off, wanting to make sure he was alright first. "I can't be fretting about you being in a city when I have work to do. There's a possibility I'll be back tonight, but if Mary wants to work straight away on her book, then I have to stay in Inverness for a couple of nights, tops. Besides, I need to explain to Tom about his book's publication and make sure he hasn't changed his mind. Until we've drawn up a contract, nothing is certain." Her hands smoothed the hard muscles on his chest. "Besides, I need you to be here when my uncle comes. He'll be hiring a car, so he won't require picking up."

"What? Ye're uncle is coming here?" he almost shouted.

"No. I mean, uncle Lamb won't be staying here in the cottage even though you told him he could. I've already booked him a place in the village centre ...close to the amenities."

He let out a sigh of relief. He didn't think he was ready to bond with Harry's look-alike ...yet. If anything, he dreaded it, afraid of other suppressed memories dying to come out and choke him with guilt.

"Jamie, I really ought to go. I promise I'll call later and explain everything."

With a groan, he pulled Claire in once more in his arms and kissed her thoroughly, and she responded with a whimper that told him she was enjoying the kiss. He hadn't even had a second to savour getting her back before the prospect of letting her go again struck him like a baseball bat between the shoulder blades. But he wanted to give her something to remember while she's away and what she'll be missing if she didn't hurry up with her work. He slipped his hand under her cardigan, caressing her nipple with the calloused pad of his thumb and pressing his burgeoning erection against her belly.

"I love ye ...always remember that." His mouth coasted along the lines of her jaw, his hands squeezing her waist. "I ken ye've been patient and understanding with me, but just try to be extra tolerant with me for now. Can ye do that?"

She nodded, her face red from beard burn. "Alright, but I do need to go, Jamie." Her eyes flashed. "And you have nothing to worry about. So please rest up tonight because you'll need a hell of a lot of energy when my uncle comes."

It's the way she looked at him, pleading for understanding that became his undoing as if she's reading his thoughts, and despite everything he'd done, she couldn't find fault with a single one. He needed to be a better man and control his emotions and needs. Her work was important to her, and she was important to him. "Fine, I'll walk ye to the car." He stooped down to get her bags and followed her outside.

They stopped beside Christie's car, and Jamie watched the other man climbed out, both men grunting a greeting at each other. 

"Am I still driving ye to Inverness, Claire?" Christie asked, avoiding Jamie's eyes.

Claire nodded. "Yes, please, if that's still alright with you. I'm so sorry I took so long."

"It's nae bother, and of course, I'll drive ye to Inverness," Christie smiled warmly. 

A long silence stretched as the three of them just stood there. Christie rocked on his heels, and Jamie held on to Claire's bags like it was his lifeline. 

Caught up in the awkwardness of the moment, Claire bit her bottom lip. "Well, I guess that's settled then. We best get going before Mary does something like bite some poor soul's head at the airport." Claire's attempt to sound cheerful lessened the tension in the air but not the one on Jamie's shoulders. She turned to him and tried to take her bags off his hands, but he couldn't seem to let go. "Jamie ...my bags," she whispered, her hand running up and down his forearm as if to tell him everything was going to be alright.

But instead of giving Claire's bags back to her, he begrudgingly handed them to Christie while launching if looks could kill look over her head. They had a few seconds of stare off until Claire's hands on his face forced him to look at her.

"Jamie, kiss me, goodbye?"

He didn't hesitate at her request and sucked on her bottom lip as she made a sobbing noise. That wee noise she made jolted something free inside of him, and he, too, wanted to cry. He couldn't remember wanting to openly cry before. Not like this. He couldn't control it, and it dragged him down, stealing oxygen from his lungs, but Claire's touches soothed him. 

"I don't want to go," she murmured against his mouth. "Not one bit. But I'm doing this for us, remember that. The sooner I'm done with work, the more time we can spend time together." 

He allowed himself to wade into the shallow waters of comfort Claire was starting to represent. He'd lived with this reality for too long that he wasn't enough. Or probably worse, he was too much. For years, these memories of loss and guilt and shame had been subdued. Now they're coming out with guns blazing, and he felt totally defenceless. But with her arms around him, he felt cocooned in her bubble of protection. So he clung to her like a drunk with his last shot of whisky, the desperation inside him going into overdrive, and he was practically mauling her lips with no care whose watching, drawing her onto tiptoes so he could get all of her from every angle.

"Jamie," she whispered shakily, gently pulling away. "My phone is going off every second. Mary is probably wondering why I haven't called her." 

Breathe, lad, it's going to be alright. Don't lose yer cool, or ye'll drive her away. He let go and opened the car door for her, not taking any notice of the man waiting patiently at the driver's seat. "I'm sorry," Jamie mumbled.

"It's alright." She smiled in understanding, squeezing his hand. "I'll be back before you know it."

He held on to Claire's eyes, the only tangible thing he could grasp, giving him a renewed determination to manage the condition that had ruled him all his life. At that moment, the world suddenly made sense, and he was veering into a place he didn't recognise ...a place of calm, where the voices in his head had lost their dominion over his thoughts.

He watched as Christie's Land Rover drove away and was surprised when a hand landed on his shoulder. Jamie turned around to discover Willie stood there, a smile etched on his face. Jamie had forgotten about his brother, too caught up with Claire's departure and the intense emotions he'd nearly let out of control. 

"Ye did well, bràthair. I'm so proud of ye."

Jamie dropped his head forward and let out an exhale, feeling a lot lighter in days. He knew he'd only scratched the surface of their relationship, but Claire was giving him all the time in the world to get back on his feet, and he was determined not to disappoint her. Though it had been a struggle not to let his emotions take control, it was at least a start. He glanced up at his brother and smiled.

"Ye alright there, Jamie lad?" Willie playfully slapped him on the back for good measure.

"Aye, I think so." This time Jamie meant it and believed his own words. He threw an arm around Willie's shoulder, squeezed it briefly before stepping back. "And thank ye for sticking around. I owe ye one."

"Aye ye do," Willie grinned. "How about repaying me like right now and coming to work. It should keep yer mind busy and help me catch up with a long list of jobs."

Jamie didn't need prodding. His mouth curved into a smile, and he nodded his head. "After seeing Christie, I think I'm in the mood for uprooting trees."

They shared a wicked glance and then laughed out loud.

 Dear Readers,

Thank you all for your patience with this story and the feedback from the previous chapter. 

Mental health stories are, I personally think, the hardest to put across because it involves a lot of emotions and psychological battle that are difficult to put into words. But I was determined to write this account even though it has its challenges, so I hope I've done it justice.

Part of the reason for pushing to write such a story that delves into the mind of a tortured soul is to raise mental health awareness because there are many things that people still don't understand about this illness. In saying that, some of you were disappointed by Jamie's behaviour, and I wanted that to happen to make a point.

In real life, it's so much easier to categorise and point out someone's shortcoming instead of trying to understand the psyche of a person's behaviour. From my perspective, each of us has undoubtedly suffered a form of mental illness at least once, but not everyone has the emotional and psychological strength and maturity to cope or overcome it. Nor do they have access to help. In Jamie' case, he's got a strong network of family, and he got Claire to help him get through it. 

So the moral of the story is, spread kindness because you never know what really is going on in someone's mind. 

For now, take care of yourselves. Until the next update ... X

[shintorikhazumi]

“Diana.”

A/N: To be honest, I had wanted this to be a Diana-centric fic, from Diana’s perspective. I struggled to find a concept, and had a little help from a friend who sent me a random generator. (Thanks, Kate :>) And when I thought I’d just choose from a randomly generated idea, I came across this video on youtube which was actually a compilation of a tiktok series of the story of two neighbors. Of course, I changed bits of it, and obv the end so if you think you know what the source vid is, dw. I won’t hurt y’all like that ;-; And I’ll just link it at the bottom so no plot spoilers for those who don’t know what it is. Eyyyy.

This fic has a few song recs for y’all to listen to if you haven’t heard them already, lol. ;)

I had been looking for something... “emotional” for Diana’s bday fic. And I think... this works. At least for me, it does.  It’s not from Diana’s perspective, but... I think this works. So without further ado, Happy birthday Diana and...

oh, thank you to @tracedinairlwa​ for some help with the music :> that y’all will see later in the fic :’>. Without further ado,

Enjoy?

~Shintori Khazumi

 It all started with a sunset and a few familiar notes from a piano.

No, it isn’t Akko’s piano. Her piano has been sitting in a corner of her room, collecting dust- untouched for months. And that is just the thing. Unless her piano has somehow become cursed and has decided to ghostly play on its own, then there had to be some other source.

The source of that gentle sound, Akko eventually pinpoints, is her apartment wall- or more accurately, what lies beyond that separator.

As she sits on her couch, admiring the expressive tones, her mind has decided that it wants to capture this special moment, and keep it stored lest she never experiences it again.

Making a quick dash for her bedroom, she opens her bedside drawer and fishes for her old camera from her university days in film club, back when she was an actual student of the Arts and all that creative jazz. She has tried to maintain it, but being under lockdown allows her few chances of seeing the outside world, and the few corners of her home don’t exactly spark ‘inspiration’ for any project.

Dusting the device off gently, she takes it back to the living room, placing it on her coffee table facing herself. She clicks the record button, thinking of making an introduction; but she quickly abandons that idea as she realizes it may take away from the sounds she wants to ring more apparent on tape.

Maybe she can just edit a few captions later on her laptop. Yes. That sounds good.

So she sits.

And the notes kept playing.

 //

[Video Diary(?) Diary? Is this a Diary? Day... Day 1. I hope it’s only Day 1. I hope there’s a day 2. And a three... and a five.

So anyway, Akko here. And uh... I got a new neighbor, I think. He/she plays the piano. I do too (kinda. Haven’t done that in a while, hehe).

I don’t know why I recorded this... this must seem like I’m being a creep, but... They just... played Chariot’s Melancholy from my favorite show and... it felt sadder than usual. The sound felt sorrowful. I don’t know...

I’m... moved.]

//-//-//-//-//

She does not know what compels her today, to slip that message under her neighbors door; but before she can even think about her actions, they’d already been done.

A simple, “can you please play ‘Ease My Mind’ by Ben Platt, maybe?” haphazardly scrawled on a piece of notebook paper is delivered with the anxious feelings of an interaction-craving Akko, starved of a social life since all this pandemic misfortune began.

She is sure she no longer knows how to string a proper introduction together after nearly a year of being by her lonesome.

This is about to change however. Starting today.

Maybe.

She counts down the hours ‘til sunset.

//

[Day 2! Yey! So uh... I kind of... went on the attack- no! I didn’t attack anyone! I just... You know how I have a new neighbor that plays the piano? I sent that neighbor a note.

And you might think that’s all fine and cute, but... I’ve never even met my neighbor... but...

I love his/her music. So much.

And I told them. On the note, of course. Duh, Akko.

I asked them to play ease my mind and... they did.

As you can hear in the video... I guess it was a yes. :>

 ...They eased my mind...

-Akko]

 //-//-//-//-//

She wants to try something today.

She has been thinking about it the past few days after continually being blessed with such beautiful music. Music that had attracted her like moth to a flame. The piano’s daily sunset singing compels her to come reunite with her own.

She had wiped it clean earlier in the morning and now sits awkwardly on the bench, punching down a random note here and there.

What a nostalgic tone.

The C major scale then the G. She plays it. A few arpeggios to warm up. F sharp major doesn’t sound too good, with her fingers tangling up as she traverses the scale. What was the fingering supposed to be like again? Right. Start with the fourth and second finger on the left and right hand respectively.

That sounds much better.

She hums a few tunes, choosing from a playlist arranged in her mind. She settles on something gentle and sweet. A Yiruma song. Just to get the feeling back in her hands.

A river flows as notes along the plain that is her silent room, adorning the quiet flourishes and curves, bringing color to her atmosphere.

She misses this. This tingle in her heart as music fills up her entire soul, not allowing her to think of anything else but this exact moment.

Yes.

This... This is nice.

And Akko plays until the sunset comes.

She can’t wait for it to come.

//

[Day 6. I... I haven’t played the piano in a while, and I’m a little rusty. But brave ol’ Akko here thought it’d be great to ask for a duet from the virtuoso across the drywall, haha. I left a note...

And I though we had something going. I was excited... I said that they could play once I stopped my part, but... did they forget? Or I guess they didn’t hear me.  

It’s okay... I can try again tomorrow.

I hope. Tomorrow...

-This has been Akko.]

//-//-//-//-//

She excitedly videos this weekend ‘meet-up’.

Akko still doesn’t know who lives across the wall, but she sure knows his or her favorite songs by now, hearing it daily at the same sunset hours.

She admires the music, as usual, but this time it’s different. This time, they had sent her a note. An apology for missing out last time.

They request a duet with her, to make up for it. Of course, Akko accepts. And now she starts it off, praying and hoping her sound is heard through the barrier that keeps their music apart.

She ends her part of the duet, waiting in the most agonizing few seconds of silence. She briefly worries that her neighbor had forgotten their proposition; or maybe they couldn’t hear her once more.

It’s fine, she thinks... It’s okay. She scratches her cheek, wondering if she should hold on until next time again-

There it is. That beautiful sound, so personal to the one living across the wall. A sound of emotion that could only belong to whoever it was living there.

Akko had never heard anyone else play the way her neighbor did.

She laughs, she feels herself tear up a little. It hurts so sweet in her chest. It’s a fizzy, bubbling excitement. It’s a stretched-out joy across her cheeks.

A success!

A beautiful one, indeed.

//

[Day 8: Akko here. My wish came true. I... got to play with my neighbor! Yay!

... Maybe I should go meet them now...]

//-//-//-//-//

They do it again.

Akko excitedly bounces in her warmed piano seat, listening to her neighbor go first this time around. She listens intently. Once the wall music stops, she starts. This was their agreement, their deal.

The river’s flow stills a moment, and that’s Akko’s cue to pick up the current’s pace once more.

She plays with shy gusto, caressing the keys in a way that shows how she’s fallen in love again. With the piano? With music? Yes. With- ...

Love, huh. It’s such perfect timing too.

Today is Valentine’s day.

Akko doesn’t know whether or not her neighbor has anyone special in her life like that, but if they share the same situation, all alone in their apartments, locked in by the pandemic, she just wants them to know she receives the message their music is trying to get across to one another.

Her heart feels it. It translates it.

It cherishes it.

//

[Day 13.

Dear Neighbor,

I just... wanted to share the words we’ve exchanged, not through any verbal means, but through the sounds that reverberate against the very foundations of our connected homes. Thank you for this message.

I know that music is... our way of simply saying

“I don’t know who you are ... But I’m here. You’re not Alone.” This is for you too.

-Sincerely, Akko.]

//-//-//-//-//

It is a challenge.

For Akko or for her neighbor, she doesn’t know. What she does know is that tomorrow is going to be the big day! She’s finally going to see the face behind the songs that have embraced her tenderly throughout the lonely struggle she hadn’t realized had weighed down on her so heavily.

The interactions they’ve had, the conversations, they brighten up her everyday, and Akko is somewhat afraid she’s gotten attached; addicted- if you will- to this unique bond she’s formed with another she has never actually met.

Her mind strays from her current piece, body autopiloting a song called, “Mind Conductor” that both of them just so happen to like, apparently. Another fact that makes Akko feel all giddy as they seem to share a taste in other media outside of music.

She feels herself vibrate with nerves and excitement.

It’s tomorrow. Tomorrow is the day.

//

[We’re Finally Meeting.

Tomorrow.]

//-//-//-//-//

Akko tells a story.

She’s met her neighbor, not knowing what to expect. Despite having a lack of said expectations, she could confidently say it was better than anything she could have anticipated.

She rolls up the sleeves of her flannel shirt, readying herself to write the melodious response to the already playing tune in the background of her video.

Though she tries to listen intently, waiting for her turn, she is distracted. She knows she is.

After meeting someone as wonderful as her neighbor.

Blonde hair and blue eyes invade her recall, flashes of a soft smile and calm voice playing over and over in her head.

Her neighbor is the most gorgeous woman she’s ever met. Breath-taking. Akko says this with utmost objectivity as her lungs struggle to function after first meeting the lady.

Hailing from Scotland, the twenty-five-year-old had introduced herself to Akko. They exchanged a few pleasantries, some questions and information.

Akko had asked how she’d never known she had such a talented neighbor, to which the response was an admission from the woman that she had just moved in and was only staying in the adjacent apartment temporarily while awaiting for a relative to come for her after selling their old house back in their hometown.

Her mother... rests. Having had a certain heart disease for a while, her immune system had proven very susceptible to the pandemic reaper that had claimed her life for its tallied count. She never knew her father, it seemed.

Akko’s heart breaks as she remembers these things.

“All I have left is the piano.”

That’s what she’d said to her earlier.

Akko’s fingers glide across the keys, playing her role in this drama for two.

“I play at sunset because my mother came home at that time from work... she was always stressed.

...I wanted to be of help to her. I was happy she loved it. As I grew up, it became a habit.”

Akko fumbles with a few keys, making a slight mistake. She hopes her neighbor can forgive her for being so distracted at the moment, and right after they’d finally met too.

“Thank you, Miss-”

“Akko is fine.”

“Thank you, Akko. You’re playing has, in truth, kept me motivated and less lonely.”

Akko remembers having promised before their parting to their respective units that she would keep playing with her until she moves out.

Akko blushes upon remembering the stunning smile she was offered afterwards.

Her neighbor had been camera shy and so Akko didn’t get the opportunity for a picture. She hopes for the best in the future. She’ll try again if ever the lovely lady was ready.

They have time, anyway.

They do.

//

[Day 20, folks! Akko here, writing another video caption entry, Diary, thing... haha. The song playing right now in the video is gorgeous right? It’s... her favorite song. It’s called, ‘In case you don’t live forever’. She said it keeps her loser to her mother. It keeps her in her heart.

She plays so beautifully...

She’s just as beautiful. She’s amazing.

She’s... a special soul.

I feel goosebumps.

I’m glad. For her. Her music doesn’t sound as sorrowful as when I first heard it. It’s still every bit as emotional, though. I could cry. Really, I could...

...I’m so happy she’s healing.

It’s a process, but... I’ll be here. I’ll be here for her.

I’ll be here for you,

“Diana.”]

//-//-//-//-//

There are times when Akko thinks she’d like to get to know her neighbor more, a little more chatting, a few more minutes talking. 

However, it always seems as though there’s this unspoken rule. This... ‘don’t-get-too-close’, ‘don’t-ask-more-than-you-should’. It’s like a boundary that keeps Akko from learning more, discovering more.

Neither of them purposely meet-up outside their closed doors either, this lockdown and what-not all up in their face.

They see each other around the building sometimes, wave a hand, shake a plastic bag of groceries, but building protocols don’t really allow loitering in the halls, and Akko feels she’d be crossing a line in inviting the girl over, and she doesn’t see herself getting invited instead either.

Despite this longing, she isn’t all too dissatisfied with the current standing of their relationship. Peculiar as it may be, she rather likes this.

A relationship built on a communication based on raw emotion delivered through their music.

If Akko ponders it deeply, it’s quite an intimate relationship, what they have. Thoughts and feelings in their purest form- unspoken, but not hidden.

She might not know too much about Diana. She may not know much of her past, or even her present, or general objective facts about the woman.

But what Akko does feel she knows is Diana’s heart. 

And Akko knows its utterly beautiful.

//-//-//-//-//

Moonlight Sonata has never felt so sad to her; its sounds reflecting something they both felt, Akko believed.

Akko feels her heart clench and ache in her chest, her face a little hot and her palms sweating.

Only a week left before the clock strikes twelve and the magic is broken.

Diana is finally moving out.

It is... their final duet.

How unfortunate.

Akko sighs, thinking about the pain she’ll feel later as she edits this portion of the video. Compared to the happy tones and build ups of all the others, this... is something she doesn’t know if she can do.

Maybe she can ask Amanda for a favor this time around?

She’s actually shown some of her closest friends her video logs, and they all had sent kind messages to Akko’s new friend, who in turn, felt worlds and worlds happier.

Akko feels happy as well.

Diana’s joy is contagious. It shows through her expressive music that gives away the feelings her face doesn’t show.

Speaking of Diana’s face... she still hasn’t agreed on showing her face on camera. Akko supposes it’s still too early. Maybe before she leaves? Oh Akko hopes so. She wants to have something to look at physically to remember Diana by. Not that she’d ever forget.

Still, a little memory help never hurt anyone.

Diana’s turn comes in smoothly through the wall, Akko unable to keep her smile from forming.

She’s going to miss this. The playing; the sometimes awkward, but unconventionally amazing duets; the letters shoved underneath door; and the very rare hallway meet-up where Akko can only smile at Diana as they exchange a literal word or two.

Akko reminisces.

The past... two months now, have been amazing. Incredible. Life-changing. Akko wonders what the future has in store for them both after they part.

Maybe they could meet again. Someday. Somehow. Somewhere.

Akko knows she’ll keep playing still. At the same time, on a weekend, as the sunsets. For Diana. She’s promised she’ll keep making the video logs. She’ll send them over to her so that they can still keep this music alive in some way.

//-//-//-//-//

[Day 62.

Hi, Diana. It’s me, Akko.

I... wrote you a song...? Or well, I started to... I’m not quite done yet, hihi. Got a little too ambitious and all... thought I could add some other instruments besides our- the piano... aha..haha...

When you first told me your story, I started picturing it out. A life dyed with all the colors of the spectrum. From the vivids to the grays, it was such a lovely imagery in my minds eye. A painting I could not get out of my head.

And so this song is... yeah. That.

A story.

A story about this wonderful twenty-five-year-old woman who so happened to move next door to this uninspired artist. She’d lost her mother to a stupid virus, and she’d never known her father. Her house got sold, and she had only one distant relative she knew of left.

She spends her days along in a box of white walls and empty silence. That is, until the sun decides to rest for the day, and it sends its golden rays of energy to the girl and to her piano that she thought to be her sole companion in this tragedy.

She plays her favorite songs, filling the emptiness with her own emotions; making the intangible manifest itself and cause a dumb girl next door to one day slip a scratch of paper underneath her door, asking for a song.

A note with a request... and with a message that she’d heard her feelings- her loneliness; and that she’d never let her be alone anymore.

And that’s how they became friends, huh, Diana?

Two pianos, Two people, and a wall that keeps them apart.

They didn’t know who was playing on the other side. But did it matter?

In this dreary, blackened time of the world,

‘You can be the light of somebody else’ darkness, so keep shining.’.

Dear Diana,

In case my playing isn’t as emotionally expressive as yours, I hope you at least know this now. Through this video.

That you were, and are... my light.

-Akko.

P.S. I hope I finish the song and give it to you before you leave.]

//-//-//-//-//

 She feels herself hyperventilating, her vision bleary. She can barely stand. She feels like vomiting, and dying, and screaming all at once.

Her anxieties run rampant all over the room.

If this keeps up, she may as well hurt herself beyond help.

She trudges over to the one thing that could ground her at the moment.

The piano.

Her hands are shaky as they do multiple attempts to turn on the keyboard, hitting the wrong buttons and turning the volume knob up too loud that when Akko accidentally leans against the keyboard, hand pressing down on many keys, the sound almost blows up her eardrums.

She curses, smashing a hand against those same keys, the cluster of notes echoing through her apartment walls.

“aaaaAAAAGGHHHHHHHH!!!!”

She allows the scream to tear out of her throat; emotions, wild horses finally released into the open.

“AGH! AGGHHHH!!! RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH”

She falls face first onto the keys, now ignoring the loudness of their noise, momentarily thinking it would be better to allow her ears to bleed out so she’d never hear a thing again.

She wants something, anything, to drown out the pain she feels right now.

...

She sobs against the keys, head lifting as she apologizes to her piano, wiping off the tears that are quickly replaced by fresh ones.

Akko gives up and plays a note. Then two.

Then she’s playing ‘you’ll be in my heart’ and she’s crying more.

She lets herself cry as she plays.

Today, she was supposed to see Diana off. She had left a final note the day before yesterday, asking if she could do so. Help Diana carry her things, maybe swap numbers, and just... maybe keep this connection going for years to come.

Last night, she’d said good night at Diana’s door.

The girl gave her the sweetest smile, an almost unnoticeable blush on her features.

Oh, but Akko noticed anyway.

Of course, she would. With how shamelessly she stared at Diana at that moment.

Diana laughed, stepping closer and patted Akko on the cheek- kissed her there- before turning about to shut the door, along with the lights Akko saw go off from underneath it.

She was excited for the morning.

But when morning came... Diana was gone.

Akko had been thrown into confusion and a frantic state that she’d bolted all around, searching for signs or a left behind message.

Nothing.

She had then run down to ask the land lady, and that’s where she’d found out.

The heart disease Diana’s mother had was hereditary.

Diana had had an attack, and with an emergency alerting device, she’d been able to contact her only family, and had been taken to the hospital.

That was good.

That gave Akko relief and joy.

...so why is she despairing now?

...She didn’t know.

No, not the reason for her despair. She knows that.

The reason she was in this state is because she didn’t know.

She didn’t know what had happened.

She didn’t know Diana had suddenly disappeared in the middle of the night.

She didn’t know where she was, or where whoever took her.

She didn’t know that Diana had that heart disease too.

She didn’t know because she never got to ask.

She never got to learn more, know more.

... Did she not know Diana then?

Her mind taunts her, her heart hurts her.

She doesn’t know a lot about Diana. Not as much as she thinks.

That’s what they tell her.

For all the emotions they’d exchanged through music, that was the extent of it. Had Akko been too presumptuous in thinking she’d known Diana so deeply because of what they’d shared?

When in reality she may as well be a random stranger playing her show tunes and disturbing her neighbors.

Akko almost believes it.

But no... no. She can’t do that. She can’t assume those things. Not about their connection. Not about Diana.

Because Diana had told her once upon a song that she- that Akko had been her light. Her comfort. Akko believes in Diana. So she believes these feelings as well.

Yet these feelings of her own were so conflicting, so daunting. They battle in her mind, questioning and justifying every little thing. All things relating to Diana. Diana and... Diana.

Akko coughs out a few more sobs, throat incredibly dry.

She stops playing for a moment, dragging herself to the kitchen for a glass of water.

Then she goes back to the piano.

She... doesn’t feel like playing again.

What should she play anyway?

What song does she want to play? What song... Song... Song... Diana... What was Diana’s favorite song?

Diana? Song? A song for Diana? A song about-

Akko falls off her piano bench as she scrambles for her coffee table, sighing in relief as the papers for her composition are still there.

With shaky hands, she takes the sheets and a pencil and brings them over to the piano.

And she writes a few notes, then a few bars.

Diana.

Diana.

Who is Diana.

What does Akko not know about her. Her other struggles? Her sickness? Her trials and her fears? Her past?

That melody... sounded too sad for a parting gift. Akko doesn’t want Diana to feel more sorrow when she moves out...

Then....

What does Akko know? About Diana?

“Diana is...”

Expressive, emotional.

Diana is intelligent, an intellectual.

Diana is sincere and sweet.

Diana is talented and tasteful in music.

Diana is... her neighbor, her... new friend,

....Akko’s... what?

What was she to Akko?

“You are my light.”

-Akko ends up writing as a title.

But that’s a little too embarrassing to give to someone who was just your neighbor and a new friend... right?

And maybe it didn’t exactly represent the whole thing Akko had written.

So she erases it, biting her pencil as she tries to come up with a new name, a new caption for this creation.

What could it be. That describes Diana in her entirety; her life, her struggles, her joys.

Who is she? Who is Akko’s neighbor?

Akko scratches her head in frustration, wracking her brains even more.

With a sigh, she replies to herself aloud, the simplest, somewhat plain, and stupidly obvious answer.

“Well, she’s Diana.”

And it clicks.

That she is.

She is Diana.

And Akko throws on a jacket, a mask, and some shoes and thinks no more.

//-//-//-//-//

[Dear Diana,

I know very little about you

But you’ve changed my life.

Really you have.

You gave me back my passion, and a little bit more of that even. Maybe aroused a new passion within me.

I’d say, “You’ll be in my heart”, but that sounds too much of a farewell, to be honest.

And I’d rather not say goodbye just yet.

Not like this.

Music... Is a powerful thing. Despite the rampaging emotions I’d felt as I found out what had happened to you today, I- I kept playing. It grounded me. It helped me.

Diana, you once told me I was your light.

And you know I’ve told you already. That you’ve been MINE.

Diana. This video might look incredibly shaky and chaotic.

But please forgive me for that, and know that it is because I’m running with all my might to find out where you are. I got a hint for the hospital you might have been taken too.

It kinda seems like I’m a stalker now, huh?

I’m sorry. I just... I-

I can’t say goodbye to you....

Not just yet...

I still... have a song for you.

So... wait for me?”]

//-//-//-//-//

Eyes blink, bright white melting into color. They scan the room, looking for hints to identify her location.

Her body aches, her chest hurts. Her throat is parched. Her head is throbbing.

What is that annoying beeping sound-

Ah. Of course.

The hospital.

Again.

She hates it. She hates the smell of antiseptic and sterile sheets. She hates the taste of badly prepared hospital meals, and too-dry food.

The water has this strange quality to it when you’re in the hospital.

She knows this well.

She hates that she does.

She sighs, sinking into her pillows. At least those are comfortable.

Ugh.

What bad timing, really. For an attack.

She was supposed to move out today. She was supposed to meet with her aunt- who actually has probably met up with her by now, seeing as Diana is in a hospital and her usual alert device seems to be charging within reach beside her. Also she sees Daryl’s purse on the seat.

Maybe the woman had gone out temporarily for something important.

That was fine.

It just meant Diana was left alone again. If only for a short while.

...Alone, huh.

These past two months, she hadn’t been that.

All because of one girl, one Atsuko Kagari that she’d met by chance through a piano and through a wall. The sound quite literally carrying over through a wall.

Diana can’t believe she used to be so skeptical of thin-walled living spaces, wondering how people kept their privacy.

Now, however, she feels blessed that that was the case.

Else she’d never have met... her light.

That’s right.

When everything, her vision, her hopes, her heart had steadily been dying out, through her dim came a glow. That glow was the connection she’d found through her neighbor across a wall.

It had surprised her the first time she realized someone was playing alongside her one sunset session, months ago. She would have thought it creepy had the person’s music been any less captivating.

There were just so many colors in the music, there was just so much warmth. It sounded a little rough, a few hinges rusty at first; but it came along after a few pseudo duets, and then Diana had found these duets to be a staple in her life.

Then she met Akko for the first time, and more warmth and color came into her life.

Diana found herself enjoying the musical conversations they had, intrigued by thoughts that they were actually able to communicate in that way and understand one another to that extent, no words attached.

And she enjoyed these nonverbal bonding moments.

But when they actually wrote to one another, or when they’d have their short greetings when they’d meet up in the hall, Diana found herself wanting to draw even closer, to get to know Akko even more.

And when Akko asked if she could do the same, Diana had found it so easy to open up.

She’d loved to know even more about the girl.

But how would she do it now?

They didn’t have the chance to exchange numbers, and Diana was probably moving as soon as she left the hospital. Her things were already being shipped to her new home, after all. There wasn’t much reason to return to her apartment, really.

“Idiot. Stupid, Diana. Not asking her sooner. What are you supposed to do no-”

Two knocks on her door.

It doesn’t open right away. It doesn’t seem to open at all.

Diana deduces it’s not a doctor or nurse then. And it might not be Daryl either because the woman would have already called the attending nurse to open the door already.

So then, who could it be?

Diana tries not to let her mind wander and get her hopes up, because there is no way- just no way- it’s who she hopes it will be.

The door opens, and her breath is unexpectedly bated- and she releases it, seeing it’s just the janitor.

Trying not to let disappointment leak into her tone, she greets him a good mor-

“I’m glad... I was right.... hah... hah... You’re here... Diana.”

And Diana really shouldn’t just assume things such as being wrong, and that maybe her neighbor was a creep two months back.

Because now her neighbor, all frazzled, sweaty, and out of breath, is right there in front of her, a bunch of papers crumpled in one hand as the other is held over her heart, trying to calm herself.

“You... hah... didn’t let m-me... Sa-ha-y goodbye... so... you’re not allowed... to leave me waiting in silence and never respond...” Akko huffs. “There’s no more wall preventing you from using words now.”

Her breathing finally slows, and she manages to look up.

“I still have a song for you, after all.”

Diana doesn’t realize, nor does she feel the tears flowing down her face.

Akko doesn’t either.

“L-Let me know what you think... It’s my first song and all...” She becomes this shy blushing school girl as she approaches Diana’s bedside, awkwardly handing over the worn pieces of paper, all wrinkled up from whatever adventure Akko had been on prior to arriving here. “... then maybe we could play a duet again or something...”

She mumbles it so quietly Diana almost didn’t catch it.

She smiles.

She doesn’t think about the reality that was supposed to occur today had she not been taken to the hospital.

Virtual duets aren’t really her thing. She much prefers hearing sound in person, in real-time. She prefers the ability to adapt and adjust to play alongside someone; to feel expression and emotion first hand; to experience a duet in full.

So it’s a simple reply that she has ready, along with a smile on her face as she takes Akko’s hand in hers.

“I’d love that.”

 //-//-//-//-//

 Diana has told her many times that it’s thanks to her that she was able to recover as quickly as she did, and be out of the hospital in only a week.

Akko sheepishly denies that every time.

They’re both just glad things seem to settle to be alright now.

Diana leans her head against Akko’s shoulder as they share a pair of earphones, listening to the composition play on the latter’s laptop.

“I love it.”

“I know. You’ve told me that the past 4 months, everyday.”

“And I will continue to.”

Akko tries her best to hide the smile that had grown on her face, but it’s impossible. It comes out in laughs and a few soft tears, and she rubs her head against Diana’s.

“You have all the time to, it seems.”

“Yes, and I won’t waste it.” Diana quips, turning her head up to look at Akko with the tenderest of smiles. “Care to play?”

Akko simply smiles, before wrapping Diana up in a hug so deep, and warm, and tender. Without a word, she stands them both up, walking them over to two keyboards now positioned side-by-side.

They take seat. With eyes meeting, and a small nod, they begin.

They don’t need words to figure out the rhythm they’ll fall into, or what they should do, or who plays what part for today.

Akko’s colors seep out, her warmth embedded in her music. Diana’s expressive emotions tell Akko all she needs to know, and they play in harmony.

Together, they tell a story.

A story that began with a sunset and a few familiar notes from a piano.

A story about its music and what lay beyond a wall.

A story once called, “Diana”.

Now,

“Diana and Akko”.

  A/N: ....  Hrmmm... I didn’t like how i ended it, tbh,,, hahaha. I just... lost my thought process now. I’m tired and lost.

Anyway.

Based off this story

The follow-up to this won’t be now, or anytime too soon. Or tbh, I could just end it like this. But there’s this ache in my heart that wants to know what happens next as well. Or more things such as how Diana ended up staying. But well,

...who knows.

Bye for now.

~Shintori Khazumi

[jackfrostsander]

Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday little Robin! Happy birthday to you!

Also available on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33374809

Friday August 20th, 2021

08:43

Robbe slowly woke up… With his eyes still closed his hand looked for the warmth of Sander’s body next to him… “San???” Robbe jumped up as his hand had felt nothing but cold bedsheets. There was no trace of Sander in his bed except for his intoxicating smell that still emanated from the bedsheets. Robbe jumped out of bed, took the first shirt he could find from the floor – Sander’s lightning bolt t-shirt – and went to check the bathroom… Nope, nobody there… Maybe Sander woke up before him and is already having breakfast downstairs?

As Robbe ran into the living room he got the surprise of his life… A large banner hang across the room saying “Happy 18th birthday!”.

As Robbe walked in Sander and his mum started to sing together:

“Long will he live… Long will he live… Long will he live in the gloria! In the gloria! In the gloria! Hieperdepiep hooray!”

Robbe ran towards Sander and jumped into his arms like a hyperexcited little child. Sander nearly lost his balance… But before he even got his feet steady again Robbe was already showering him in kisses. Sander allowed him to indulge and so for the next several minutes they did nothing but exchange kisses and ‘I love you’s’.

Eventually Robbe remembered that his mum was standing there patiently waiting to wish her son a happy birthday too so he reluctantly let go of Sander’s comforting embrace. Robbe turned towards his mother. “Happy birthday Robbe! No mum could be prouder of her son” Charlotte said. “I love you mum” Robbe replied before hugging her. She gave him three birthday kisses and then pulled back while her hands retrieved a gift from behind her back. She gave the box, wrapped in orange gift wrap, to Robbe who eagerly opened it. Inside he found a box of his favourite cookies. “Thanks mum!” Robbe said. “I have something else…” Charlotte added, “But I couldn’t wrap it… I bought you a licence for the video editing software you need for university…”. “Mum… You didn’t need to… OMG, Thank you so much…” Robbe said before hugging her again. The software was not cheap and since the breakup with his dad she had to pay everything from a single income and that meant that it wasn’t always easy… So, as happy as Robbe was with his present, he also was feeling somewhat guilty that his mum had spent so much money on his gift.

“First gift of the day” Sander said while handing a drawing over to Robbe. It depicted Robbe spray painting the garbage truck. A memory of the first time Sander had seen him and had instantly fallen for him… “It’s amazing San! Thank you!” Robbe exclaimed before pulling his boyfriend in for a kiss. “Oooo wait… I am not done yet…” Sander said as he handed Robbe a long rectangular box that was wrapped in Sander's favourite Bowie gift wrap paper. "For me?" Robbe asked surprised. "For who else..." Sander teased. "Thank you San!" Robbe exclaimed as he started to unwrap the box. Inside he found a plain cardboard box. Robbe burned with curiosity for what was hidden inside this box. He opened the box and... "A skateboard!" Robbe blurted out in joy. "Check the bottom side" Sander instructed. Robbe turned the deck over and... Most skateboards have some kind of art decoration on the bottom but this one... This one had been spray painted by his artist... "Sander..." Robbe said with an open mouth as he admired the work of his talented boyfriend. Robbe put the board down, turned towards Sander and pulled his lover in for a kiss. He wrapped his arms around Sander's neck while his lips never departed those of Sander. He could spend the whole day like this... Just being with Sander... Feeling his skin against his own... Feeling those soft lips and warm tongue... Inhaling Sander's mesmerizing smell... Oh, he didn't need anything more to have a perfect birthday...

Then Sander took Robbe to the kitchen where a pile of freshly baked pancakes was waiting for them… There was butter, jam, different sugars, chocolate topping, and whipped cream as complements to the pancakes. Robbe was instantly salivating at the delicious smell. How lucky was he that his boyfriend could cook… Because he didn’t get much further than instant noodles… But Sander could make all sorts of things. Not just croques but also spaghetti with homemade bolognaise sauce, steak frites, witloof with ham in cheese sauce,… and the fresh soup he made for Robbe when he was in bed with a cold. Sander nursed him for days until Robbe felt better again. For sure, Sander’s fresh soup and honey-spiked warm tea had helped to clear his airways.

“Are there any croques with cardamon?” Robbe teased his boyfriend. Sander made a disgusted face upon being remembered of Robbe’s little experiment at the sea earlier this summer… Sander had told him that they would taste awful but Robbe had stubbornly ignored his boyfriend’s advice. When the croque was ready it really did taste badly but Robbe forced himself to take several bites to avoid having to agree with Sander…

Robbe grabbed a pancake from the pile and added whipped cream and chocolate topping to it. Next, he rolled it up into a delicious sweet bite-sized roll from which he took a bite. Hmmmm, heaven… He wanted to share his creation with his boyfriend so he turned towards Sander and fed him another bite from the rolled up pancake. Sander closed his eyes as he enjoyed the food liking the chocolate sauce from his lips with his tongue… Robbe nearly combusted at seeing Sander act like this. He wasn’t sure if it was intentional on Sander’s behalf or if he was oblivious to the effect that his actions had on his boyfriend… Well… knowing Sander he probably was well aware of the fact that he was a massive tease by licking his lips like this…

Robbe couldn’t control himself and before Sander had opened his eyes Robbe’s lips were pressed against his. He tasted the chocolate/whipped cream/pancake taste from Sander’s lips mixed with the black coffee that his boyfriend must have had earlier today… This kiss quickly deepened and Robbe nearly forgot that he was in his mum’s kitchen… Luckily he remembered where he was before things got too far… He pulled back and looked deeply into those emerald eyes of his perfect boyfriend. How lucky he was… He could stare into those eyes all day and not grow tired off it. He was mesmerised by his boyfriend’s beauty… He started to caress Sander’s cheek while whispering “I love you soooo much”. And Sander melted into a puddle in front of him…

11:03

"Come" Sander instructed while extending his hand in Robbe's direction. "Where are we going?" Robbe demanded to know. "Surprise... Come" Sander repeated. Robbe smiled softly. The unpredictable nature of Sander was one of the things he loved the most. He loved the cute and special surprises that Sander regularly planned for him. He knew that with Sander by his side life would never be boring. So, he enthusiastically grabbed Sander's extended hand and allowed himself to be pulled out of his mum's home on the way to whatever adventure Sander had in stall for him...

Once outside Robbe wanted to grab their bikes but Sander stopped him. "Let's walk" Sander suggested. Robbe gave Sander a quick rub on his back before interlocking his hand in Sander's. And so, hand in hand they walked across town... Stopping regularly to take some artistic pictures or inspect some street art...

12:19

Robbe's stomach growled. "Getting hungry?" Sander inquired. "Fainting" Robbe replied. "Well, that's perfect on schedule..." Sander replied earning him a confused look from Robbe. "We're nearly at the restaurant where I reserved a table for us..." Sander clarified. "Not at the hospital, I hope?" Robbe jokingly asked. Sander was confused for a moment until he noticed that they were indeed walking past the hospital. Sander snorted. "Nope, something much better than under-seasoned bland potato puree they serve in hospitals..." Sander replied with a smirk.

Not even a minute later they arrived at Sander's chosen restaurant. Robbe had expected to eat some burgers and fries or pizza... Or maybe a steak frites at a brasserie... However, that was clearly not what Sander had in mind for today… "A one Michelin star restaurant!?" Robbe exclaimed in disbelief. "From the best dessert chef of Belgium" Sander added. "But... That's too expensive..." Robbe said. "Nothing is too expensive for you..." Sander replied before pulling Robbe towards the entrance gate of the restaurant.

"Good afternoon young gentlemen. Do you have a reservation?" the maître d' asked. "Yes, on the name of IJzermans-Driesen" Sander replied. "Ok, let me show you your table" the maître d' said as he guided the two boys to a lovely table at the terrace outside of the restaurant. It was the ideal weather to eat outside. Not too cold and also not oppressively warm… Just the perfect mild Belgian summer weather with a slight breeze. Only rain could be a problem according to the weather forecast but so far it had remained dry and the sky looked clear...

The maître d' handed the boys the menu cards and asked if he could already bring an aperitif. "Two glasses of champagne" Sander immediately replied. "Champagne?" Robbe said in disbelief. "It's your birthday sweetie" Sander said. Robbe's worries about Sander's spending become even worse when he opened up the menu card. "Any idea what you would like?" Sander asked. "Maybe just the brioche wagyu" Robbe suggested. "Sweetie, its fine. Ignore the prices..." Sander said, "What do you think of the tacos as a starter?". "Tacos... That's sounds nice" Robbe said. "Ok, and what do you think about sea bass for a main?" Sander suggested. Robbe quickly checked Sander's suggestion... 49.50 euro for the bass... Robbe felt so uncomfortable to have Sander spend that much money on him... Sander must have noticed... "Sweetie... You only once become 18... Just relax and enjoy... Sometimes one just should stop thinking about things and just enjoy the special moments..." Sander said. Robbe smiled. "You're special enough..." Robbe said, "I don't need fancy food... Just having you by my side...". "You're such a romantic..." Sander teased.

13:55

After a mind-blowing starter and an exquisite main dish the boys were waiting for dessert when... The chef of the restaurant, Robbe recognized him from his TV-show that his mother watches, walks out with two plates and comes over to them. He places a desert plate in front of Robbe with in chocolate glace "Happy 18th birthday" piped on it. "Happy birthday young man" the chef says, "I hope you have enjoyed your lunch?". "It was outstanding! A true delight for the palate!" Robbe complimented the chef. "Thank you. Enjoy your desert and the rest of your birthday" the chef said before returning to the kitchen.

14:22

After an astonishing gastronomic lunch the boys decided to use the restrooms before leaving the restaurant. As they walked in Robbe observed that they were alone there so in an impulse he changed plans and pushed Sander against the wall… Before his head could hit the wall Robbe inserted his hand. He pushed his body impossibly close to Sander’s and they started to kiss passionately… Robbe moaned… His body burning with desire… No matter how close their bodies were it would never be close enough for Robbe… Sander… Sander… Sander… was the only thing Robbe could think about. He was in a public space… He shouldn’t take things too far… But trying to constrain himself was soooo difficult… It felt like his whole body was screaming for Sander… He was slowly losing the battle that was going on in his mind… Until… Footsteps… Someone was approaching the door… Robbe quickly withdrew and went to the sink to wash his hands while Sander went to use the restroom…

21:15

"Come" Sander said as he pulled Robbe towards what looked like an abandoned factory. "San, what are you doing?" Robbe objected as Sander pulled him past the fence. He had no intention of getting arrested for trespassing on his birthday... But Sander didn’t seem to care. "Come..." Sander instructed again. He pulled Robbe towards the door and opened the door…

“Surprise!” dozens of voices shouted. Everyone was there… The broerrrs, his parents, Sander’s parents, his aunt, his grandparents, Zoë, Senne, Milan, Yasmina,… “Third surprise” Sander beamed.

The old factory was in fact a party venue and it had been completely decorated… All his family and friends were standing around cocktail tables covered in black spandex. The sealing was covered in various coloured spots, party lasers and mirror balls. There was a bar, dance floor and music installation. Hanging on the wall in front of him was “18” spelled out in silver Mylar balloons surrounded by floating black and white balloons. But nothing could have prepared Robbe, and also most of the people present, for what was coming next…

21:21

Suddenly, Sander got down on his one knee. In the background Bowie’s Wedding song started to play… “Robbe IJzermans… My angel… The love of my life… My soulmate… The sun who illuminates my existence… Would you do me the honour of becoming my husband?” Sander asked while he presented Robbe with a flat silver, satin-finish, comfort-fit, 7 mm wide engagement ring that had a lightning bolt engraved in it. It was a truly stunning ring, clearly chosen by someone with impeccable artistic taste…

Robbe was speechless… This wasn’t happening… Did Sander really just asked him to marry him??? Robbe’s heart skipped a beat or two and his brain went into a mild epileptic seizure as he was trying to comprehend what was happening… “Marry… you…” Robbe finally stuttered in a questioning tone. “Yes, I want to marry you” Sander replied.

Robbe was silent for another brief moment before he spoke: “On one condition…”. This must have taken Sander by surprise as he instantly gave Robbe a confused look. Robbe bended down and whispered in his ear: “I am not marrying nude”. Sander snorted at Robbe’s joke but also blushed a bit when he remembered the conversation from almost 2 years ago... “Condition accepted!” Sander loudly proclaimed as he wrapped his arms around his boyfriend and started to kiss him. Both boys were in tears now. Happy tears.

The beginning of their relationship had been a bit chaotic and Robbe struggled with his internalized homophobia and Sander with the demons in his head and the doubts about if Robbe would stay with him when all aspects of him got revealed… However, it didn’t took Robbe more than two months after first meeting Sander to be completely convinced that this was the boy he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. Sander made him feel things that he didn’t even know one could feel… And those feelings have never changed… Every time Sander touches or kisses him still feels as special as that first time… Every single time Robbe gets butterflies in his stomach, chills though his spine, and Chernobyl in his head… A never ending honeymoon phase…

Their family and friends started to applaud. After making out for a few minutes the awkward position started to become uncomfortable enough to force them to stop kissing and get up. Sander quickly placed the ring on Robbe’s finger before pulling him in for more kisses.

After a few minutes of pure bliss… Making out with Sander… The boys finally broke apart ready to accept the birthday and engagement wishes from their family and friends. But first, Sander snapped a picture of his fiancée’s hand with the ring and uploaded it on his Instagram. As caption he added a fragment from Bowie’s wedding song:

I believe in magic

Angel for life

Robbe got a message from his mum. It was several pics that she had taken of Sander proposing to him. Robbe quickly looked through the pics and decided upon the best one. He was going to upload this on his Instagram to show the world that Sander was his. Robbe isn’t the boasting type of person but he can’t help to feel soooo lucky and proud to say that Sander is his and the whole world can know it. Sander is his… Even after all this time this thought was almost surreal to Robbe. Why did the universe grant him such happiness? “Nowhere as happy as we are…” Robbe remembered Sander’s words. How true this statement was…

"But where will we live?" Robbe asked Sander. "You and Sander can keep living with me... If you want at least... Until after you finish university and have the means to find a place of your own..." Charlotte interrupted. "I have the best mum and boyfriend in the whole world!" Robbe exclaimed while jumping around his mum's neck like the baby koala he is. "Fiancée" Sander corrected him earning him a playful push from Robbe back.

In the meantime Sander’s parents had walked towards them… “Happy birthday Robbe and welcome in the family” Isabelle said. “Thank you” Robbe said as he hugged Sander’s mum. “You’re the best son-in-law that any mother could imagine… And know that you and Sander can always count on us if you need our help” she said. Robbe smiled: “Thank you so much”. He felt Sander’s father’s hand on his shoulder so he let loose of Isabelle and turned toward him. “Happy birthday Robbe!” Charles said. “Thank you” Robbe said with a smile. “We have something for you that you will soon need…” Charles said as he handed over a box. Robbe opened the box and found… “A Nikon Z6 II!!!” Robbe exclaimed. Sander’s parents were quite well-to-do but that was exuberant even by their standards… “I… I… can’t…” Robbe stuttered. “We’ve only got one future son-in-law… And you deserve it Robbe. You really do. Look at Sander. We’ve never seen him this happy in his whole life. And I know you will make all of us proud with your movies” Charles said. Robbe blinked away a tear. Not only did he have the best boyfriend but also the best parents-in-law that anyone could wish for… Indeed, Sander’s parents had always been there for him and Sander… From the first day they had welcomed him with open arms.

Suddenly his dad showed up and grabbing him by the shoulder he lead Robbe a meter or two away from Sander and his parents. “Happy birthday son and congratulations with your engagement” Louis said. “Thanks dad!” Robbe replied. His dad took a little box from his pocket and gave it to him. Robbe unwrapped it… “A new phone!” Robbe exclaimed. “Your current one is quite beaten up… So, I think you can use this…” his dad explained. “Yes! Thank you dad!” Robbe smiled. Robbe was about to turn around when his dad hold him by the shoulder. “You know… I mean… You’re still young… You don’t have to rush into things…” Louis started. “Dad, what are you saying?” Robbe asked in a slight fierce tone as he didn’t like where his dad was going. “Your mum and I also got married at young age…” Louis added. Robbe didn’t like this conversation at all. He would like to tell his dad what he thinks about the fact that he cheated on his mum and then left her. But this was a happy day and he was not going to let his dad ruin it. So, he just turned around without saying something. “Robbe…” his dad yelled but Robbe decided to ignore him.

He didn’t get far before Sander appeared next to him. He must have noticed that Robbe was irritated after that short talk with his dad. His boyfriend is so observant. “Nothing, I am fine San” Robbe replied. Sander clearly didn’t believe it as he gave Robbe a ‘tell me what’s wrong’ look. “Just my dad… He’s annoying again… But I am not going to let him ruin the happy mood” Robbe said. He gave Sander a smile to let him know that he was truly fine. Sander didn’t seem fully reassured yet so Robbe added: “Nowhere as happy as we are”. This sentence had since become one of the reoccurring lines that they used to profess their love to each other…

Robbe and Sander spend the next half an hour going around to everyone to receive Robbe’s birthday wishes and presents and their engagement wishes. Zoë gave him a new beanie. Jens gave him two presents. One from himself and one in name of Jana who was back in New York. And then there was Noor… She had given him a lightning bolt earing. Robbe seriously doubted he would get the opportunity to wear it as his boyfriend would probably steal it… After all, Sander got his right ear pierced recently…

22:02

“DJ Sobbe!” Jens yelled. “Sobbe! Sobbe! Sobbe!” everyone started to chant as the boys made their way to the music installation. Robbe grabbed the mic and yelled: “Who’s in for a partyyyyy!” while Sander got the first song playing. Moyo came over and handed the lovers two beers. “Cheers!” Robbe said as he clinked his bottle against Moyo’s. “The first broerrr to get married…” Moyo said, “I am focking proud of you!”. Robbe beamed.

02:18

The party had ended about twenty minutes ago and Robbe at first thought that Sander was walking him home but he soon noticed that they were heading in a different direction… Now, they were walking down the ‘Keizersstraat’. “Could it be?” Robbe started to wonder. And of course… They halted in front of THEIR hotel. “Penthouse suite for the night? Large bed and nobody to interrupt us…” Sander asked. “Sander…” Robbe said in disbelief. There didn’t seem to come an end to the surprises that Sander had in stall for him… “Shall we repeat that night?” Sander asked. Robbe beamed. “I promise I won’t run away this time” he added. “You better don’t or I shackle you to the bed…” Robbe teased. “Ooooo… I like your thinking…” Sander replied with a smirk. Most often Sander tended to dominate in bed but he also loved to occasionally give complete control to Robbe… “Be careful what you wish for…” Robbe continued to tease.

[imaginedhaven]

Reluctantly Rooming: Part Nine

Link to Masterpost

I’ve been neglecting this fic! This chapter is a little shorter, both so I could get back into it and because this is kind of filler that sets up the next part (which I’m very excited about). But I hope you enjoy regardless!

Today’s prompts:

“I can’t believe you eat pineapple on pizza…what sort of monster are you?”

and

Rowan reading/editing smut

~*~*~

Aelin laughed nervously from her position under the smoke detector. “Um, I can explain?”

The beeping stopped as he reached the chair on which she was standing, and with steady hands on her hips he helped her down from her perch. “Explain later,” he said. “Gods, I’m just glad you’re okay.”

She looked up and met green eyes bright with enough worry that she bit her lip in a fit of nerves. “I’m sorry,” she replied. “I just wanted to do something nice, and I’m pretty sure at this point we both know that I should never be trusted with cooking. I just thought…”

Her voice trailed off as she found herself hugged against his chest. “I’ll appreciate the thought once I’m more awake, probably,” he reassured her. “Just… wait, is the stove still on?”

“Um…” Aelin was struggling to remember at this point. “Probably? I just kind of took the pan and threw it in the sink.”

“Which explains the clattering noise. Okay.” He let go of her to turn the burner off and start cleaning out the pan, and for just a moment she felt a sense of loss before her brain caught up with her.

“Wait,” she called. “Shit, I can clean that.”

“Please just let me.” His voice sounded so strained, and she wasn’t sure if it was the situation in general or the way she must’ve horribly mangled his cookware.

“Is there anything I can do?”

He only shook his head and scrubbed harder, and she quietly slipped away into the living room.

Gods, she had ruined everything. She had meant to do something nice for him, and instead she had woken him up in probably the worst way possible. Not to mention the fact that she had created more work for him and maybe even ruined one of their pans. Why had she thought this was a good idea, again?

She steadfastly ignored the traitorous voice in her head that suggested that she knew exactly why she had tried to do this. It didn’t know what it was talking about.

Finally, she realized that she had to do something. After all, if she didn’t intervene he’d most likely go straight from scrubbing away her mistakes to properly cooking them… lunch, she realized with a glance at the clock. She may not be able to cook to save her life, but she could definitely make sure they had food without him cooking it.

She grinned. Her cooking skills were subpar at best, but her texting thumbs were in perfect working order.

Aelin crept back into the kitchen, watching for a moment as the muscles of Rowan’s back rippled under his shirt with the force of his scrubbing. Finally, though, she tore her gaze away and focused her eyes on the back of his head. “Hey, I was going to order pizza. You want any?”

Rowan set the pan down and turned to face her with a smirk. “Only if it has pineapple on it.”

Aelin was positive her jaw was about to hit the floor. “Pineapple?” she asked, voice sounding weak to her own ears.

“That’s not a problem, is it?” Gods, he was looking so impossibly smug. And it was about pineapple, on all things. Was this a habit he’d developed simply to be ornery? She wouldn’t put it past him.

“Of course not,” she said, forcing as much saccharine sweetness as she could into her voice. “Why would it be a problem to cater to the whims of a monster who thinks pineapple belongs on pizza?”

“It’s sweet, tart, and relatively nutritious for a pizza topping.” Of course that would be his most important criteria when evaluating toppings for pizza. Why wouldn’t it be?

Aelin sighed. “I can’t believe you eat pineapple on pizza. What sort of monster are you? I mean, I knew you were a grumpy old buzzard, but this?”

As she spoke, though, she pulled up a delivery app on her phone. She had to take a few deep breaths before she did it, but she selected pineapple as a topping. She’d just have to get two pizzas. It was fine. They’d have leftovers.

She hit the button to order the pizzas and smiled. Even though she was pretty sure Rowan was messing with her, it was still nice to do something for him in exchange for all of the things he’d been doing for her lately. Even if it meant ordering a pizza she was confident was never meant to exist.

~*~*~

Later that evening, Aelin kicked her feet up onto the arm of the couch and tugged a blanket around her shoulders. “I still can’t believe you actually ate that awful pizza,” she muttered as she sorted through the movies she had available to watch.

Rowan hummed in response, clearly distracted, and she glanced over at him to find him still at work in the armchair. The glow of his laptop’s screen was reflected in his glasses… wait.

“Do you actually need glasses? I hardly ever see you with them.”

He frowned up at her for a moment before returning his focus to the screen. “They cut down on blue light. I don’t need them to see, but I’ll get a headache if I stare at this screen for too long without them.”

“Are you sure it’s not for vanity? Like, so you look like an editor?”

“Is there a point to this, or can I get back to work?” He sounded frustrated, but judging by the way he was glaring at the screen and not at her there was a good chance his anger was reserved for the work he was editing.

“Go for it.” Well, if he was going to be focusing on his work instead of her movie, she wouldn’t ask for his opinion. She set up a period romance and stood to find snacks.

As she passed by him, she chanced a glance at his screen and then paused, transfixed by the sight before her. Was that…?

It was. Rowan was editing smut. In the same room as her, no less, with no visible embarrassment.

She couldn’t keep silent. “I’m surprised,” she said as Rowan startled in the chair before her. “You were reading this the whole time? With a straight face, no less.”

Rowan shrugged. “It’s part of the job. Usually it’s not mine, but I’m taking on a project for someone who’s on vacation right now.”

“Oh.” She supposed that made sense; even romance novels went though some amount of editing, and she supposed someone had to do that work. There was a difference, though, between knowing that objectively someone had to edit this sort of book and watching Rowan pull up an annotation in his file to write Breasts don’t work like this with angrily pressed keys.

As she read the passage that had irritated Rowan so, she laughed. “I mean, you’re right, but I’m surprised you just knew what was wrong with it.”

Rowan lifted an eyebrow, eyes not leaving the screen. “And why would that be? I may not have them, but I can assure you I’ve been in physical relationships with people who have. Anyone who’s seen them for longer than about five seconds should know that.”

Aelin choked on air, wheezing and clutching at the top of the armchair. Of course, she had known distantly that the odds Rowan had been completely celibate were low. He’d never brought anyone home, though, so she’d been able to put any thoughts of her once-hated roommate having sex out of her mind. Now she was being confronted with the knowledge that he had, and she didn’t know what to do with it.

Finally, she managed to speak. “I’m gonna make some tea. Do you want any?”

Again, he didn’t look up from his work. “That depends. Is operating the electric kettle within your skillset, or are you going to try to burn down the kitchen again?”

“Och! I don’t know why I offered,” she grumbled.

Before she could leave, though, Rowan reached up and grabbed her wrist, finally turning green eyes onto her. “I was teasing, and if you’re making tea and there’s extra I’ll happily accept it.”

As she watched, something softened in his expression, and she wordlessly nodded before fleeing to the relative safety of the kitchen before taking a deep breath. Yes, it was better in here. No roommate casually talking about sex. No stupidly attractive roommate lounging before her with those stupid glasses as he worked. Gods, she’d even forgotten to make fun of him for wearing glasses he didn’t strictly speaking need. She was a mess.

Yes, tea was the correct decision.

It was an easy enough process that even Aelin couldn’t mess it up, and soon boiling water was poured over two teabags in mugs. Shit, it hadn’t been nearly long enough; she wasn’t sure she was ready to face Rowan again.

But face him she would. He would be back to ignoring her soon enough, and she could survive a few moments of interaction before starting her movie. And so she took another deep breath before grabbing both mugs and walking back out into the living room.

Rowan smiled up at her as she delivered his. “Thank you.”

Gods, but that smile was too much after their earlier conversation. She managed a nod at him before practically fleeing back to her couch with her own mug of steaming tea and pressing play on her movie.

The familiar beats of one of her favorite movies began immediately, and she slowly relaxed into the pile of throw pillows and blankets she’d accumulated. As she’d predicted, Rowan turned his attention back to his work as soon as the movie began.

However, throughout the night she could’ve sworn on more than one occasion that his gaze strayed to her instead, and she wasn’t sure what to make of it. For now, it would have to be one more thing to carefully not think about.

~*~*~

Tagging:

@ireallyshouldsleeprn @queen-of-glass @fangirlprincess09 @sassys-world @morganofthewildfire @superspiritfestival @perseusannabeth @sis-it-dont-add-up @jlinez @julemmaes @emilyoftheshadows @thegoddessofyou @mymultiversee @swankii-art-teacher @rowansfirebringer @rabodocardan- your tag isn’t working! Sorry!  @courtofjurdan @danibutterr @woollycat22

[phantom-wolf]

Day 8: Pirates and Cowboys

Old life, New Beginning

A/N: I'm going to put content warnings in the tags and also before the story just in case

For @usukweek

Content warnings: character held captive/ prisoner, mentions of robbery, use of guns, mention of insects, 10 year age gap, minor character death, suggestive themes 

Summary: In 1875, Arthur Kirkland decides to travel to Europe. On his journey the ship he's on is attacked by pirates. Lo and behold one of those pirates is Alfred Jones.

You can also read it here:

A familiar four clicks accompanied the movement of his thumb as the hammer of the single action was cocked. A spatter of blood and gore soon accentuated the deck as one of the pirates took the bullet that tore from the blond's revolver. He instinctually ducked as bullets whistled by and nearly found their mark. The only thing roaring in his ears was the sound of his own heartbeat, unimpeded by gunfire but rather spurned to a faster beat as adrenaline flooded his senses. The ringing in his ears that would've been acknowledged by a novice went unnoticed.  Fragments of wood dispersed as bullets embedded themselves into the deck and masts of the ship. 

The male found himself in a less than ideal position, forced to take cover in a location that left his rear exposed and able to be flanked. He couldn't afford to let his attention divert to this fact in the chaos of battle. All he could do was hope that the others could fend off the invaders and that there was no second point of entry. Another click distinguishable from the sound of the hammer was audible as the last chamber of the Peacemaker was emptied. Instead of wasting time reloading he reached for the second gun in its holster, a relatively newer Smith and Wesson model three he had bought off someone whose name he couldn't recall. Before he could properly grip and raise the weapon he sensed a presence behind him and felt metal dig into the back of his head. Instinctually he froze and mentally cursed himself for acknowledging the weakness while doing nothing to prevent it. 

"Hand away from your weapon."

Weighing his options he complied, slowly feeling himself relax as the barrel was removed from the back of his head. He turned to face the perpetrator, sizing him up, taking note of his broader figure, dirty blond hair and estimating his age to be in his thirties before his focus shifted to looking down the barrel of the weapon. A gleeful delight overcame him, a catalyst for confidence whereas in a different situation he may not have had. There wasn't a round chambered in the barrel. His eyes flicked to the other man's blue ones before a laugh escaped his lips full of contempt and amusement, the tension in his shoulders relaxing as the fear drained from him.  Pointedly he stated "If you're going to be aiming a weapon at someone it should be loaded." 

His attacker had enough common sense to look slightly embarrassed, eyes widening slightly before narrowing once more, his finger curling tighter around the trigger and his thumb brushing against the hammer of his revolver in an attempt to regain control of the situation "There are five rounds, all it takes is a quick rotation of the cylinder. So I suggest you cooperate."

The pirates' attempt wielded no fruit as another snicker left the other's mouth." This was poorly planned on your part. If I was a- duller gentleman what would stop me from pulling my secondary and shooting you on the spot?" 

The pirate looked affronted. "The fact that by the time you would've pulled it out I would've taken the end of this weapon and hit you over the head. Or simply pulled back the hammer a few times and shot you before you could me." Arthur could see the stranger practically bristling as he continued. "Anyway, what's wrong with you? Who decides to look down the barrel of a gun pointed at them?!" To his utmost amusement he could hear the man murmur under his breath about how in all the years- 

"You're confident in your abilities I'll give you that. And you're lucky I'm no gunslinger." Arthur started, peeking over the barrel that served as cover and scanning the deck for any other resistance from the other crew members of the merchant ship. Finding none he decided not to risk being shot by the thieves who had boarded during their conversation. It had seemed the victors were decided. "To answer your question, a very clever man."

"Or a very stupid one" The pirate grumbled and narrowed his eyes, giving him a glance over before stopping on his face. Despite the now rather medium length beard that accompanied his features and some grey poking through his wild blond hair he could see a multitude of things flash through the other's expression, the two most prevalent being surprise then recognition. 

"You're- Arthur Kirkland." 

Arthur let another curse leave his lips not caring enough to hide his rather foul mouth as the stranger shouted to the others and he was guided on board the pirate's ship. 

--

Now he found himself imprisoned aboard some ship he knew nothing about. A rich orange light filtered in through a circular window of some kind, slowly retracting and leaving strange shadows in its wake as the sun started to set. Left to his own thoughts for entertainment, he mulled over the irony of the situation and mused that if he had wanted to be in a cell he would've walked himself into the local sheriff's office. He mindlessly swatted festering insects away as they found their way into his holding through the opening, torn between being grateful for the ventilation while also loathing it for being an easy access point for flies. He'd come acquainted to the soft creaking of wood and boisterous voices above drowning in whatever alcohol they could scrounge up. Several days, ten since his capture and a few days on board his previous vessel had granted him the mercy of letting him adjust himself to the sway of the waves underneath them. His body ached and he wasn't sure if it was from the hard floor below him or from the moisture that was in the air. It was however a definite reminder that he wasn't as young as he used to be.

 A nearer, heavier creak caught his attention and he turned his head to the source spotting a silhouette in the doorway. With the illumination of the kerosene lamp his visitor clutched he could make out the details of a familiar figure. Deeming him as non hostile he relaxed and decided to greet his company. "Come here for free entertainment? If you did I apologize. I'm not very interesting."

"I came here to give you some food"  The familiar voice of the pirate who had found him in the first place spoke. "And to deliver some news. As for that second part we both know that's not true."

At the announcement of food Arthur sat upright and moved to the bars. "We'll thank you for the compliment" He murmured more focused on what the other carried then the conversation. He kept his composure despite the rumbling of his stomach, stamping down any ebbing curiosity that threatened to reveal itself. News was an inconsistency in routine that had been made over the past several days and frankly he wasn't sure if he wanted to know what that meant.  "What is it this time?"

"Some dried beef and some beer today." 

A little humorous and witty remark rolled off his tongue easily."You pirates' meals are quite bland, you know that don't you Alfred?" 

Sensing the humor in his words Alfred chuckled. Somehow he managed to juggle the beer, meat and lamp by keeping the drink close to his body with his arm and gripping the wrapped cloth that had the dried meat with the same hand, letting the other carry the light source."You're lucky you're not eating the biscuits. The bugs like to make their homes there."

At that Arthur grunted, disgusted but not surprised. "The bugs make their homes everywhere. It doesn't surprise me they are embedded in your food as well."

"Your food now." Alfred responded with a light hearted grin deciding to take the lasting conversation as an invitation to stay. He'd done this every time he brought food and drink. Arthur held no hostility to him, not minding the company either. Afterall, if he had been in the pirates' place he would've done the same thing. Extra money wasn't something that was stumbled upon frequently. He supposed he should even be grateful that Alfred hadn't decided to shoot him right then and there. Although conversing with the man led to one of the answers he was searching for. Turns out Alfred didn't like to kill civilians if he didn't need to. At the time he had figured the situation was under control and sensing the opportunity for an ambush had done so. He'd much rather use intimidation tactics to manipulate the situation. What the quartermaster hadn't realized was that the newest edition to the crew, Jackson had been shot until after. These things tend to get lost in the chaos of gunfire and screaming. 

The lamp was set down as a hand slipped between the bars with the cured meat clutched in it, which he eagerly took and was soon followed by the beer. He knew it was beneficial to them to keep him alive, however that was a very...broad term. He doubted the bounty poster specified that he had to be in pristine condition to claim the reward. So he was happy to accept some of the more quality food. 

They stayed in silence for a few moments, Arthur slowly tackling the meat and washing it down with beer until Alfred broke it. "You're to be brought up to the deck today".  

Upon hearing those words Arthur nearly choked on the beef, managing to swallow without incident. "What?" 

Alfred shrugged nonchalantly, although had appeared concerned when the other almost choked. "I did say I had news for you."

"You could've mentioned it earlier!" 

"Yeah I guess so. But then you wouldn't have eaten, insisting to go now. This way you have energy. So finish your food and then I'll bring you up." 

Arthur seeing no other option simply ate a little faster. 

---

Arthur was grateful for the sun's position upon stepping out onto the deck for the relative lack of light. He was sure if the sun had been higher an unforgiving headache would've blossomed behind his eyes at the sudden influx of light. His joints popped from the exercise he found himself able to partake in. It felt nice after being confined to a small cell for a little over a week. He was still weary however. Years of experience had taught him that nothing was easy in this world. Nothing was given, everything came with a price. Not even stealing was without its dues. This situation was quite the reminder. 

He sensed Alfred's eyes on him and turned to look at him. It was at this moment Alfred spoke up. "Captain Williams wants to talk to you." 

There it was. "Oh? And why's that?" 

"That's something you'll have to ask him yourself. But don't worry! Whatever it is, it will be alright. After all, you got me on your side! I'll do my best to protect you!"

Arthur raised an eyebrow at this statement dubiously. "My hero" he retorted with a roll of his eyes, sarcasm dripping from his words. 

Alfred seemed to brighten up at that not seeming to either notice or care that it had been sarcasm. Not wanting to ruin the man's mood, Arthur wordlessly followed Alfred to the Captain's quarters. Williams was waiting for them, looking up as the door opened and Alfred greeted him. "Mr. Kirkland" Was the simple greeting he'd received. At least the captain seemed to hold a little respect for him. 

Arthur gave a small nod of his head, tilting his hat in recognition. "Captain Williams. To what do I owe the pleasure?" He asked hoping his sarcasm from earlier didn't bleed into the words for his own sake. When he locked eyes with the older man's brown ones he was met by a stare not so unfamiliar. Experienced, calculating, straight to business. A non verbal and pointed reminder to not cross the pirate captain. He met the challenge with his own confidence only tempered as to not get on the man's bad side. 

"A deal has been made between myself and Jones. You'll be considered part of the crew and will fill in for the member you shot and killed.  During this time you will not take a cut of any bounty we receive until the price on your head is paid in full." The captain responded. "You may discuss Jones's part of the deal on your own time with him." 

It didn't seem like he had much of a choice in the matter. Very well- he'd chose limited freedom to a cell any day. "Thank you" He said mustering up as much sincerity as he could and giving Alfred a side glance. 

Alfred gave him a faint smile quickly tilting his head to motion for them to depart, thanking his captain as he did so and turning to leave the cabin. Arthur spun on his heel but before he could take a step forwards William's voice rang out again. "Oh and Kirkland, if I hear any stray word about a mutiny that has passed from your lips. I'll take your tongue."

A small sly smirk threatened to etch itself across his lips however he was smart enough to keep himself straight faced. Of the same breed indeed. "I would never even consider doing such a thing" He responded turning his head to make eye contact with the one in charge. "Thank you for your mercy, Captain. I will serve you well." 

"You better. You're a three hundred dollar investment." 

---

Once they were back out onto the deck a peaceful silence fell between them, Arthur relishing in his new found freedom of sorts and Alfred undecided if he should interrupt the quiet. The sun had long departed by now, leaving the celestial bodies of the stars and moon to paint the night in light. The waves below reflected this light, swirling it in unpredictable patterns before being swallowed by the depths and replaced. The temperature had dropped a few degrees but neither seemed too affected by it. The silence was broken by Alfred who found himself uncomfortable with it. "What was being a cowboy like?" He finally blurted. 

Arthur looked at him startled out of his thoughts at the outburst. "Did the stories I told you when you visited with food not paint a good picture?"

"They did. I just wanted to know if you had more" Alfred responded embarrassed with himself, a  faint red painting his cheeks and the tips of his ears. "Sounds pretty fun." 

Arthur grunted graciously deciding not to comment on how red the other got.  He took a moment to think of his response wording it in a way as to not get too personal. "Fun isn't what I'd describe it as. It's hard work as many things are in life. You have to be observant, be able to think on your feet. A thousand pound animal isn't going to stop stampeding because you told it to. Then combine that with upwards of a thousand other animals of the same size and the horses you're riding on top of it. It definitely makes for a good excuse to always be on guard. But generally things didn't get too exciting. The only 'exciting' thing I could count on daily was the game of: will I get bit by a snake when I get off my horse to take a piss and die a few hours later? Or on a more rare occasion, if bandits would be stupid enough to try to rob us. The real fun happened once we arrived in town after a successful transfer of cattle. Once we arrived we had to load the cows into a train cart then we got paid. After going a few weeks without a bath or proper entertainment I'm sure you can imagine what happened at the saloons" the wink accompanying that statement  went unnoticed. "I'm sure you can relate to such sentiments out at sea yourself. Minus the snakes of course". 

Truthfully Alfred enjoyed hearing Arthur tell his stories. He'd get so enthralled as he talked about his past experiences, spoke with a passion that let Alfred know that Arthur had enjoyed the job. It was one of the times where Arthur became truly expressive, a little less on guard. When Arthur got going his words painted such clear imagery that Alfred hadn't needed to be there to feel like he experienced it. Admittedly as much as he enjoyed hearing him talk in this moment he got… distracted. He accidently ended up staring at his lips briefly, wondering how they'd feel pressed against his own then dismissing the idea and blaming it on the fact he hadn't had much company lately. He blinked shaking his head of any stray thoughts and cleared his throat. It caught Arthur's attention but when he didn't say anything the cowboy now turned pirate continued. 

"I worked in the northern plains. Montana actually. So it has taken me a while to get here. The local deputies and pinkertons had started poking around on a lead that someone matching Arthur Kirkland's description was in town. Some folk from the East must've recognized me while I was celebrating a successful drive. Upon seeing the unwanted attention I decided that frankly I have been chased enough to last a lifetime and thus my decision to come to Europe. Offered the merchant ship my gun if anything were to happen and some cash as well. However nothing is ever that simple clearly." 

He partially processed the others words, nodding along but was too distracted giving the other a once over to truly hear what was being spoken. The older man's attire alone stuck out now that he had been declared part of the crew. The Englishman had a white, tall crowned hat with a narrow brim that was curled upwards on the sides. He adorned a navy pullover shirt made of cotton with a black vest made of the same material. He also wore grey wool pants with an additional layer of fabric to reinforce the seams. Of course his clothing wasn't in pristine condition, various stains and the occasional stitch from where it had been mended littered the outfit. They'd taken away the black bandana that had originally been tied around his neck, fearful that it may be used as a weapon against one of the crew or himself. 

"Wait a minute Arthur. I'll be right back" Alfred chirped, turning to head underneath the deck and deeper into the ship. Arthur watched him go before turning his attention back to the ocean, focusing on the feeling of the breeze in his face and the sound of crashing waves that surrounded the ship. 

Alfred returned with his bandana in tow holding it out and offering it to him. Afterall with the freedom now granted if Arthur wanted to, he'd have better things to use against them than a bandana.  "You will probably need some new clothes more suitable for the sea. But for now we can't buy anything since we aren't in port and we technically aren't making anything off the next several exchanges-"

"We?"

"Oh right! I gave up my cut as well until your bounty is paid off and the credit makes a profit. Technically I promised them six hundred dollars so we're going to be living on some scraps for a while."

Arthur raised an eyebrow in suspicion and curiosity, cocking his head as he looked back to Alfred."Why go through all the trouble to save me?"

Alfred gave a disarming half smile upon sensing the others suspicion trying to prove he had no ulterior motives and a shrug. Sure he found him attractive but that was not why he saved him. "There's something about you I like. You're clearly clever, a hard worker and we needed a new member of the crew. And I think you have a story to be told. Would be a shame if it were to end prematurely." 

"Don't we all have a story to tell-" He murmured, shifting his body to lean against the closest mast of the ship and crossing his arms as he was securely balanced. "And you didn't take any of the crew from the merchant ship?" 

"We offered but they declined." 

Arthur gave a hmph of disbelief. Pirate's tended not to give people many choices. The two options usually consisted of join their crew or die which brought the next question to mind. "Are they fish food now?" 

"No, we let them go." Alfred responded. When Arthur proceeded to stare at him with his eyebrows raised for further explanation he continued. "Captain Williams tries to avoid casualties where they can be avoided. He also doesn't like to take people who are likely to turn tail at the slightest hint of freedom. Took a lot of convincing to get him to accept you for that reason. As for your job on the ship you'll have to learn how to rig the sails and some level of carpentry. If those aren't your thing perhaps you could help the doc out and learn from him- or maybe the cook." 

The older male took a minute to digest this information weighing the situation. He supposed it would've worked better for him if they had been killed. There would've been fewer loose ends, less mouths to talk if the wrong parties came looking. Oh well. "And for your information I do know some carpentry and my way around a needle. Ropes shouldn't be an issue either although you'll have to teach me any particular knots you use." 

"Good and no problem. Isaiah is the ship master. He can show you some duties and I'll also be helping out when I can. The others will also show you how we operate if neither of us are available.  We all have a part to play after all. In reality most of our time is spent on ship maintenance."

Arthur couldn't help but be curious."You're going to have to be more specific when you mention maintenance because frankly I have no idea what that entails."

 Alfred paused mentally counting off, his fingers moving from a curled position to straight as he counted with them before disregarding whatever he had been doing. "Cleaning the decks, checking rigging and ropes, checking for any potential leaks or holes and repairing them. You also eventually may get to make sure everything on the gun deck is properly stored and cleaned- just to name a few. Oh and did I mention cleaning bird shit off the deck?" 

"Sounds-" a pause and despite not trying to be rude he couldn't exactly color himself enthusiastic at the prospect "...delightful. When do I begin?" 

Alfred looked smug, probably happy that some of the more unpleasant tasks were going to be now dished out to the newest member of the crew. With a clap on the other's shoulder he chirped "Your duties start right now!". With that he began to back away towards the stairs leading to the lower decks. 

"Wait where are you going?!" 

"I'm going to sleep. Isaiah is at the stern. I'll see you in the morning!" 

"Where's the stern?!" Arthur called letting his frustration seep out through his words, scowling at the retreating pirate's back. "What does Isaiah look like?" 

"Guess you'll have to figure that out yourself. Goodnight Arthur!"

Cheeky bastard. He didn't even get to shave. 

---

Both their hands were calloused, jagged chunks carved out of them from one experience or another. The years had only added to the collection of scars and disfigurations. The black bandana that had first accompanied the cowboy-ex-outlaw-pirate was now draped over one of each of their hands, both using their free hand to knot the material and bind themselves together. Together, promising to watch over each other despite what altercations that could find themselves apart of. In life and death they'd take care of one another. 

A cheer arose from their spectators as mugs were risen and beer sloshed onto the floor which would promptly have to be scrubbed later. "How about that Mr. Outlaw. You're now properly married to a pirate however fitting that may be."

"Cowboy" Arthur corrected. "I prefer cowboy although, I suppose neither occupation is particularly civilized. And the correct term is matelotage." 

"He does learn! Would you look at that" came a playful quip from one of the crew members. 

"I've learned quite well. It's you who still gets confused when I rattle off cowboy terms at you." A flippant and well timed reply caused snickers to erupt amongst the band of people gathered around. 

Alfred decided to interrupt after chuckling to himself. "Arthur I don't think there's a single civilized thing about you" earning a playful eye roll in response. 

"I don't think either of us have ground to talk" Arthur hummed giving him a small smile. The newly wedded partook in the drinking activities and celebration for a little while until Arthur directed a suggestive and flirtatious wink towards his beloved, earning him a smirk. To further drive his intentions he gave a slight tug on their bound hands. "Boys, thank you for the celebration but I suggest you clear out of the cabins for a while. Enjoy your drinks!" 

---

Alfred found himself ahead of Arthur, deciding to clear some of the rooms up ahead, his gun raised as he did so. Upon entering one he was thrown off balance as someone barreled into him from a blindspot. He stumbled but caught himself, his body twisting to take the brunt of it as his back collided with the wall and he tried to throw off his attacker. They struggled for a brief moment until Alfred found himself a second too slow. A sudden crack filled the space as the weapon was brought down against his head. A sharp pain rattled his skull causing him to fall forward as the stranger stepped away. He nearly face planted onto the wooden floor only managing to distribute some of the weight with his hands, his jaw hitting the floor and causing his teeth to clack together. He helplessly watched his weapon clang as it hit the floor and bounced out of reach. He doubted it would be of much use to him anyway with the way his vision was doubled and the room was spinning. He let out a groan as everything slowly became bearable, rolling into his side to look up at who had ambushed him. 

His attacker stood over him, weapon drawn and pointing at him. Perhaps this was karma for being over confident. In a final act of bravado and defiance he stared at the other man, their gazes interlocked. His pain only manifested through a clenched jaw and partially squinted eyes, managing a cold but accepting smile. "You know I don't like killing civilians. If I were you I'd stand down." Whether the next unfolding of events was pure luck or divine intervention he wasn't sure. An echoing boom sounded from the hallway ripping through the relative quiet of the lower decks. His attacker slumped lifelessly and collapsed partially on him before he could scramble out of the way. He blinked, staring at the corpse before his attention was caught by approaching footsteps. 

"Unfortunately for you, I don't share such qualms" The familiar accented voice of Arthur sounded. 

Alfred scooted away from the body, a relieved smile tugging on his lips and letting his tense body now relax. Needing a reprieve from the close encounter he decided to diffuse the situation with humor. "Took you long enough. I got a smack to the head thanks to you" He said no malice or bite to his words just teasing affection. Feeling the adrenaline leave him and feeling safe with Arthur's presence he took a breath and leaned back, closing his eyes. 

"You're gonna get a smack on your arse if you keep it up" The other fired back, relief flooding his voice as he moving over him and crouched beside him to inspect the wound on his head. Deciding that nothing could be done here he placed a hand on the other cheek, encouraging him to open his eyes. "You need to get up Al" He murmured, standing up to a more appropriate height to help him up. He outstretched a hand expectantly. 

"That sounds kind of hot Arthur" He teased indeed, opening his eyes and taking his cowboy's hand. Once up he felt the others hand on his back to support him. He gave a grateful smile before wincing and running his hand over his left temple to see if there was any blood. Thankfully there wasn't. 

"We'll try it sometime if you'd like. But for now let's focus on the task at hand. Just because I'll get your cut if you were to die does not mean I want you dead. Let's get you back to the ship to be looked at by Johnson." 

"We need to-"

"The others have everything under control. You're going to the ship. End of discussion." 

Alfred decided not to waste the energy with arguing especially because Arthur was right. He took half a step, stumbling as his vision doubled again. At that Arthur pressed against his side and wrapped an arm around his shoulders for some extra support. "Thank you" he whispered, enjoying the others' warmth. His thoughts were interrupted by a gentle kiss to the right temple. 

"A reminder not to go too far ahead alone next time."

"Of course my love" He agreed. When they reached the doorway sunlight flooded Alfred's vision. He hissed squeezing his eyes closed upon finding a newfound sensitivity to the light. Arthur paused and shifted around a moment before he felt something pressed to the top of his head. He opened his eyes slowly, the sunlight limited by the narrow brimmed hat on his head. It was a little small but it would do. Alfred found himself grateful for the fact Arthur incorporated his old attire with a more seaworthy one. 

--- 

All Alfred knew was that the sensation of having Arthur over him, the other pinning his arms above his head while their lips captured each other's hungrily was addicting. No matter how many times they'd done it for the past few years, it always managed to thrill him to no end. The way their bodies arched into one another, lips worshiping and marking everywhere they possibly could. And afterwards basking in glory as they settled down from their escapades. Surely they realized that with the life they lead they sacrificed the longevity of it to do so. But they could at least enjoy each other until the end of it.