#if only standing ovations were possible over voice chat

[svartalfhild]

The Knight Stars - Session 12 - Faces and The Faceless

A summary of the shit that went down in last night’s DnD game.  (Previous summaries found here.)

We began with The Knight Stars finally finishing their job as caravan guards, getting paid by Iggy, and rolling on through the shitty northern suburbs of Baldur’s Gate.

Mornath got a letter from Lander telling her that there has been no information flow out of Baldur’s Gate lately and that he’s sure that the government there has been infiltrated and compromised by The Faceless Court.  He warned us to trust no one but each other, because even the people he knows within the city could be compromised.

As we rolled through the streets, we noticed a great air of tension and unease in the people and found out the reason why fairly quickly: the mysterious people in dark cloaks who appeared to be some sort of law enforcement, as they were arresting people.

The people they were arresting were mostly non-human, mostly tieflings, and most if not all casters of some kind.

Given that our party is a half-orc paladin, a drow wizard, two half-elf sorcerers, and a halfling bard, we were all understandably very nervous about all of this.

We quickly headed to the nearest shitty tavern, which was called The Broken Crow, a name that Mornath was not comfortable with, given that her correspondence with Lander is usually via crow and she’s just fond of crows in general.  Feels like a bad omen.

Inside, we found a dark corner to occupy and began hashing out our plans for how we were going to conduct ourselves in the city to avoid attracting attention.  We wrote most things down instead of saying them aloud to avoid the possibility of being overheard.  Mornath conveyed everything important from Lander’s letter and we all agreed we were going to have to refrain from using any magic whatsoever, which meant that we had to rethink our disguises.

Heliodoro found out from the barkeep while getting drinks that the people in cloaks are called Witchfinders and they were brought in by the Dukes to “find demons” (lol fuck that’s a damn lie, ‘cause we have it on good authority that demons be whispering in the Dukes’ ears).

We deliberated for some time over how to get ourselves through the gate to the city proper, because it looked like the guards were going all TSA on people coming in.  We eventually agreed that we should approach as honestly as possible and not try any funny business unless the guards start some shit.

We went back out to our wagon and Helio used make up to turn Cael pasty white like Mornath so now he can pretend to be her cousin.

We rolled on up to the gate, Heliodoro and Mornath driving and everyone else inside the wagon where no one could see them.

After a tense moment of telling the guards that we’re performers who’ll be staying for about a tenday, we were let through and made our way to a tavern called The Cup and Stone, where we secured a room at a reduced rate in exchange for our services as performers.

We then split off into two groups: Mornath, Heliodoro, and Cael, who went off to find help finally destroying the Evil Sword of Evil (and also to attend to some personal business of M+H’s), and Rue and Renestrae, who went to find the courier office to see if there were any letters from Renestrae’s father and to see if they could hear any gossip about the situation in town.

While there, Renestrae got her letter and a package of goodies.

On their way out, they had to pass an incoming Witchfinder and two guards.  As they were passing, the Witchfinder turned around and grabbed Renestrae by the wrist, saying “I can smell the magic on you, demon”.  Rue freaked out and tried to tell him that he was mistaken, but then he grabbed the amulet hanging around Renestrae’s neck and pulled it off.  The half-elf we knew dissolved away to reveal an ash grey tiefling and the Witchfinder ordered the guards to arrest her.

END. FUCKING. SCENE.  WE ALL LOSE OUR GODDAMN MINDS.

Now we all have to fight @throneoflaurels when we see her at a con in a couple weeks.

APPARENTLY RENESTRAE’S NAME ISN’T EVEN RENESTRAE AND RUE WOULD’VE FOUND OUT IF SHE’D PEEKED AT THE LETTER.

So anyway, that’s the cliffhanger we’re left to stew on for the next few weeks.  Thanks, Laurel, and also @ostrichmonkey for bringing that drama into our lives.  Good fucking content.

[hongjoongtrasher]

Goodbye Baby Goodbye ch.2

GENRE: Angst , smut, fluff

PAIRING: office worker!seonghwa x female reader, ceo!hongjoong x female reader, established relationship, lovers to ennemies.

OTHER: little brother!jongho, best friend!yunho, colleague!yeosang, roommate!san, office worker!mingi, manager!wooyoung.

WARNING: cheating, betrayal, manipulations, protected sex (BE SAFE KIDDOS)

Masterlist - Previous chapter

Synopsis:

It all began when your now 4 year-old boyfriend Seonghwa had an invitation to his entreprise’s party. Surprised to hear you could tag along, you met Kim Hongjoong, the CEO and close friend of Seonghwa. Rumored to be a playboy, the rich boss of your boyfriend is determined to add you to his conquests.

Indeed, Seonghwa wasn’t lying when he was saying KQ Enterprise was like an empire. You’ve never been there, and yet you were here, standing in front of the gigantic building, right after your boyfriend came to pick you up.

The preps for this evening have been like a war. Fortunately, San helped you a lot. He was a good adviser for your makeup and hairstyle. Since you had received such an expensive dress from your boyfriend’s boss, you couldn’t let the rest being down. Of course, when you called Seonghwa in a intense panic, talking about the dress you got from Mr. Kim, he didn’t seem surprised.

« Oh, actually I talked to him about the dress code, and he figured out you may be hadn’t an outfit for this occasion. But I swear I didn’t ask anything from him. »

You were still bewildered after his explanation, because it didn’t explain how he got your name and address. But Seonghwa only said:

« Mr. Kim is a man full of resources Y/N. He’s the CEO at the head of an empire, so it’s not really surprising he’d found your personal informations. But don’t worry, he won’t do anything armful to you. »

Still, you weren’t really happy with the fact your boyfriend’s CEO could find your personal infos so easily.

« Y/N…Just accept this gift. I’m sure he didn’t want to upset you, just pleasing you, in a certain way. »

« Fine, I won’t talk about it from now on » you grumbled into your phone. « But I don’t want any of those things in the future. »

And the D-day came. San had left you right after you were done, his own boyfriend came to pick him up as well. It was the first time you were meeting Wooyoung. He seemed to be a nice guy and you had this sort of feeling of knowing him for a long time even though it was the first time you were meeting. While San was still in the bathroom, Wooyoung explained to you his position in KQ Enterprise. He was the team manager of the economic team whereas Seonghwa was a manager into the CEO personal team. You were impressed by how high they were into this enterprise but Wooyoung smirked and mischievously answered:

« Because KQ Ent is mainly composed of young people. The Boss is privileging youth over oldies who will soon retire. »

San soon came to see you both, signalling his boyfriend he was ready. Wooyoung smiled at the other male who was really handsome tonight. You didn’t know San could be this hot in this all black tuxedo and hair pulled back. You were so used to see him in sweat pants and shirts with messy hair. Such a loss for the women population you had thought at this moment.

« Weeeell, I’m ready, so we’ll go ahead Y/N, see you there ! ~ » said San with a large smile which made a weird difference from his look.

You nodded and waved to the boys. Only five minutes after, Seonghwa knocked at your door. You came to open the door, trying not to step on the expensive shiny dress you were wearing. When you opened the door, you had found a subjugated Seonghwa, his mouth opened as soon as his eyes landed on your elegant figure. But he was so handsome as well. Wearing a dark blue tuxedo with a white shirt, a silky pocket tissue on his perfect blazer. His dark hair were neatly styled by some wax, and you could smell his cologne from here. You felt so lucky at this moment to have him as your boyfriend.

« You’re gorgeous » he only whispered after a moment, which made you blush.

« T-Thanks. San helped me to..mh be prepared » you mumbled back shyly, not used to wear expensive stuffs.

« You ready ? » he asked softly.

« I just have to grab some things and put my shoes and we’re good to go. »

You wearing heels was a thing to watch. Fortunately, the most suitable pair you had was almost brand new. You had bought them with your first pay check from your part time job, but soon gave up when you tried to keep them more than a whole day. You also had a classic white blazer and a small pouch that Seonghwa had gifted to you for your second couple anniversary.

« Hwa…What should I do ? I’m so nervous » you shakily said when he came to you after parking his car.

You felt his hand falling on your back as he made sure you were facing him. His eyes searched for yours as he said firmly and yet so sweetly:

« Everything’s gonna be alright Y/N. I’ll be by your side. »

His other hand gently stroke your cheek as you nodded, trying to repress your anxiety. Seonghwa took your hand to pass it around his arm. And then, you both entered the giant building where security guards were controlling the entry. They didn’t ask your name but bowed their head at your boyfriend, letting you pass easily while shouting : « Good evening sir ! »

For a second you thought being in a drama, it felt so unreal that you almost lost your nervousness. Seonghwa leaded you calmly to the reception hall, where you could already hear people chatting and the classy jazz music in the background.

« Oh my God » you repeated to yourself, squeezing Seonghwa’s arm tightly to which he responded by squeezing your hand with his free one.

The huge hall was crowded with a lot of people, most of them were employees here. You just kinda followed Seonghwa, politely greeting people he was saying « Good evening » etc. You glanced around you furtively, small standing tables were on display for everyone to get some appetizer even waiters were going through the crowd with silver trays with champagne glasses. You got one from Seonghwa. You weren’t usually drinking, or more you weren’t a good drinker, but you were feeling like drinking right now to forget your tension. As Seonghwa was talking to another manager, suddenly everything stopped and most of the others’ eyes were all directed in one direction.

A rather small man had entered the huge hall, platinum hair pulled back but with a sharp glance arrived. Even if you were at the other side of the room, you could feel his obvious charisma as he made his way through the mike stand near the small pair of musicians. You noticed his dark winey red tuxedo, perfectly fitting his body. You almost shivered when Seonghwa leaned to your ear to whisper: « It’s CEO Kim. »

Kim Hongjoong, the brilliant CEO of KQ Enterprise. He was known to be really young to be the owner of such a company, but his youth wasn’t a hurdle to rule over his company with an iron handle. The hall had gone completely silent, waiting for the host of this party to talk. He cleared his throat before offering a smug smile to the assembly, his eyes scanning the large hall.

« Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to the annual party of KQ Enterprise. Tonight, is the night where we are celebrating our achievement for the past goals we were keeping in sight. I am well aware that I maybe asked for a considerable amount of efforts during those past months, but this is thanks to your hard work, perseverance and audacity that we can proudly announce that KQ Enterprise will add the brand new branch in the US market… »

A salvation of applauses erupted in the huge hall, Seonghwa clapping enthusiastically. You were a bit confused but followed the move, fairly impressed by his speech. But he wasn’t done yet.

« As you also know, I may be the CEO, but everything wouldn’t be possible without my dear sister, Hyewon - once again people applauded towards a young woman who was standing at the corner of the stage, humbly bowing her head at her brother’s words- who always find the good words to guide me. I received a lot of praises from you all tonight, but I am not the only one to be thanked tonight. You all deserve to be thanked for your hard work, and be proud to belong to our enterprise. Thank you »

A standing ovation exploded as the blonde exited the stage, bowing slightly to some people who were still applauding him.

Seonghwa looked so proud at the moment that you turned to him to congratulate him as well. « You’re amazing, I’m proud of you » you said as he chuckled in shyness. « I’m not that amazing, I’m just doing my work »

Soon the classic music returned and people began to chat between each other’s again. You gazed to the next standing table to see San with Wooyoung, champagne glass in one hand. Your roommate noticed you and made sure to lift his glass to you, which you imitated for him. After a moment, you began to think this party wasn’t so bad, until you heard the same voice earlier from the mike addressing to your boyfriend.

« Seonghwa, you came ! »

You turned quickly to see that CEO Kim was here, giving your boyfriend a brotherly embrace, his hand tapping his back as Seonghwa looked slightly surprised but soon gained his composure again. You felt your body froze suddenly.

« Congratulations, Mr. Kim » he said genuinely happy for his boss.

« I told you already to call me Hongjoong » said the blonde with a wide smile, showing his white teeth.

Then his dark eyes soon switched to your persona. You quickly bowed to your boyfriend’s boss, feeling his gaze scanning your whole body.

« You must be Y/N…I’m glad to see the dress I’ve sent you fit you so well. Not to say, you’re beautiful »

You straighten up to mumble awkward words, but the blonde took your hand to do a hand kiss, making your heart flutter.

« I…It’s nice to meet you Mr. Kim, and you shouldn’t have for the dress » you quickly said in a choked voice, making him laugh.

« It’s nothing, it was my pleasure. I hope you will keep it. »

His eyes fixed yours, making you drown into their intensity, as he softly let your hand goes. You heard your boyfriend’s greeting someone else who was no one but Hongjoong’s sister. Seeing her close, you could tell she was gorgeous. Beauty was running into the family genes you thought as your gaze hadn’t left Hongjoong’s figure.

« Hyewon, this is Seonghwa, my manager into my team, and his girlfriend, Y/N »

Hyewon smiled at Seonghwa, bowing her head slightly and to you as well.

« It’s nice to meet you. I heard a lot from my brother about you Seonghwa. »

You looked at your boyfriend who seemed fluttered by her. You had no doubt about your boyfriend’s work, and you felt proud for him. But you soon felt like about to faint, not really knowing how to follow the conversation. Unless you excused you politely to join San’s table.

« Hey, how is it going Cinderella ? » he asked you teasingly.

« Stop it » you groaned lowly once you were next to him. « Wooyoung ? »

« Went to the bathroom » answered your friend, taking a sip to his glass. « You met him right ? »

San was indeed talking about Hongjoong, and you nodded, also taking a sip of your golden liquid.

« Yeah…He…He seems nice but, he has such an aura…so charismatic » you told San openly.

« No wonder, have you heard his speech earlier ? He probably is our age, but act like a king » San chuckled before Wooyoung came back.

« Everything’s good for you Y/N ? » asked your roommate’s boyfriend, probably worried not to see Seonghwa by your side.

You nodded in confirmation as you nudged your chin behind you where Hongjoong was still talking to your boyfriend with her sister.

« He’s incredible right ? » asked Wooyoung enthusiastically.

« Yes, indeed, he’s a genius in a sense » you hummed.

« Thank you »

You gasped when you heard again Hongjoong’s voice behind your back, making you turn quickly to face him. You’ve turned so fast that you almost stripped on your dress, Hongjoong carefully stretched his arm to hold you back if you were falling. But fortunately you didn’t.

« Wow, be careful, I didn’t mean to scare you. I apologize. »

« No no, it’s fine, I’m the one who should apologize haha » you nervously croaked back, making him slightly smirk.

Wooyoung and San bowed to the impromptu visitor. Hongjoong greeted them back but it was obvious he wanted to talk to you alone, so Wooyoung gently dragged your boyfriend away, pretexting the appetizer were better at another table. Once you were alone with Hongjoong, you didn’t dare to look at him in the eyes, to shy to do it as you could feel his piercing gaze on you.

« Are you enjoying your night ? » he asked softly, his hand gently turning a darker liquid on a glass.

« Yes, absolutely, it’s…wonderful. » you answered, trying to appear as calm as you wanted.

« I’m glad you like it. I don’t like sort of …formal gathering, but Hyewon says it’s important for the employees and she’s right. »

His eyes hadn’t left you from the beginning of this conversation.

« Seonghwa is lucky to have you by his side » he commented, making you surprised to ear this from him.

After all, he was the CEO, the almighty here. He could have any woman he wanted, anything could be his in a flash. But seeing one of his close friend having such a cute girlfriend like you made him slightly jealous. Cute and beautiful. He was subjugated by your beauty as soon as his eyes landed on you.

« I’m the one who is more lucky to have him » you explained in a shy smug smile. « He is very capable in every thing. »

« Indeed…I agree » hummed Hongjoong, finally departing his eyes from you to see his sister still talking with your boyfriend.

The night went well, since Seonghwa came to find you not a long after with San and Wooyoung, Hongjoong already had left since he had more people to talk with. You were somehow in a daze. Talking to Hongjoong kind of relieved your stress but at the same time left a deep impression on you.

« Are you alright baby ? » whispered Seonghwa to your ear since your cheeks were bright red.

« I’m fine ! »

« It’s because she’s drinking her fourth glass of champagne ~ » teased San while you gave him a deathly glare.

Seonghwa frowned at your roommate’s words.

« Y/N, you know you cannot handle alcohol very well »

He wasn’t angry or anything, just worried about your current state. Actually you weren’t that drunk, just enough to be dizzy and mostly feeling the urge to go to the bathroom. You just smirked and said:

« Let me go to the bathroom, and I’ll be back. »

« We should go after. » softly said Seonghwa before watching you leave the hall.

It would be a lie to say you were walking straight, or at least in your head you were. But while you were gone into the hallway, you went to the bathroom to relief yourself and also try to refresh your face. Once you were done, you came out from the bathroom, expecting to see people, but no one was here. The silent corridor made you uncomfortable so you decided to go back to your boyfriend until you heard footsteps coming right at you. You froze when you saw Hongjoong in front of you. He looked a bit tired, but his elegant face was still expressing the same charisma as earlier. He looked up to see you and a slight smirk appeared on his face.

« Oh…isn’t it Y/N ? Are you alright ? » he asked politely.

« I…I’m doing fine, thank you sir. » you answered quietly, the ambient silence making the conversation awkward since there wasn’t music as before or people to break it.

He arched a brow at your answer as he took a step closer, now facing you. He was so close that you could smell his cologne. Suddenly, you wanted to leave right now, your heart pounding hard into your chest.

« Really ? You look a bit red. Did you drink a lot ? » his voice was soft, but somehow different.

« I maybe had too much champagne » you chuckled nervously, trying to avoid his gaze.

He didn’t answer, instead his gaze was gauging your face. God, you were so pretty. It would be difficult to deny he tried to see you each time he was near you, but he couldn’t due to others circumstances. He really like how you look gorgeous into this dress he had bought for you.

« You’re gorgeous …You know that ? »

His remarks make you gulp, your eyes slightly looking up to see his, still fixed on you, his hands in his pocket.

« T-Thank you. I’m really grateful for the dress you’ve gifted me.»

He took a moment of silence before the corner of his lips went up.

« Are you ? Well, will you do me a favour ? » he asked, still contemplating your gorgeous, so tempted to do a dangerous move.

You were kind of puzzled. A favour ? What possibly could you do for a man who had almost everything ? You slowly nodded, unsure of what you just agreed to do if you could.

« Just stay still » he said faintly.

It happened very fast. Even before you could realise, Hongjoong had you pinned on the wall nearby, his lips crashed on yours for a heated kiss. In shock, you didn’t react fast as one of his hand groped your thigh firmly. Your body was frozen, but your brain soon snapped, making you push the man who was kissing you.

« S..Stop ! What do you think you are doing right now ?! » you yelled, panting as if you’d just ran a marathon.

Your boyfriend’s boss just kissed you while he clearly knew who your boyfriend was. Astonishment soon left place for anger. Hongjoong dark eyes glanced at you with a devilish tint. You felt like a pray, caged by the predator who could eat you in a second and you hated that feeling.

« Somehow, I couldn’t help it. I wanted to kiss you as soon as I saw you. » he explained in a nonchalant tone. « Of course I know, you have Seonghwa and everything, but…You must have heard about it. I love women, and when I want something, I get it. »

His words made you shiver in horror. What kind of man could do this without any guilt ?? It was enough for you, that a neat and loud sound of a slap echoed in the empty hallway.

« You’re crazy. » you just muttered after you faced Hongjoong’s, head turned on his right as he just got slapped.

Without any words, you hurried to join your boyfriend, horrified by what happen. But you also realised you couldn’t say anything to him. You could, but it wouldn’t be a good option for him. You knew how close they were, but knowing this, he would surely fight against his boss and be fired within the next days. That’s why you decided to take the best normal face you could have and found Seonghwa at the entrance of the hall.

« Are you alright Y/N ? I almost thought something happened. » Seonghwa asked in a worried tone.

« N…No everything’s alright. I just…took time in the bathroom, sorry. » you muttered, lowering your head. You couldn’t watch him in the eyes at this moment.

Seonghwa looked also puzzled, noticing your cheeks were abnormally red. He thought it was because of the alcohol so he didn’t try to ask for more.

« Let’s go home. » he said, his hand gently pushing you by the back towards the exit.

You nodded maybe too fast, but at least he wasn’t suspicious of anything.

« What about San ? » you asked while you exited the place to your relief.

« Wooyoung drove him home too. He was quite…tipsy. » said Seonghwa next to you.

You appreciated the fresh air brushing your face, happy to head your roommate would be here once you would be home.

The trip back to your home happened in silence, your head dropped on the head back of your seat, just watching the lights and neon passing by your eyes.

« So…Did you like it ? » asked suddenly Seonghwa, making your heart dropped in a second.

« W-What ? »

« The party » he said, his eyes on the road.

« Oh…It was alright I guess…But I don’t think I would go again » you muttered, the reason was pretty clear for you but your boyfriend could think another reason.

« Sorry, I know it made you uncomfortable. Next time I won’t force you to go. »

« No it’s alright, it was fine…It’s just that …it’s a different world to me » you forced a smile for him, your hand gently pressing his shoulder.

Soon, you arrived in front of your building. Seonghwa made sure to get you safely to your door.

« Thank you for tonight » he said lowly, maybe because it was late and didn’t want to wake anyone asleep. « You did well, I’m proud of you »

His praise made you smiled genuinely while you tried to erase the flash of Hongjoong kissing you.

« I’m glad…Thank you for tonight. »

Seonghwa’s warm hands gently cupped your face, pulling you to him for a sweet kiss. This time you were relaxed, because it was him. Because his lips were the only ones which had rights to kiss you and no one else. But why your head kept sending you back to Hongjoong’s lips feeling ?

taglist: (don't hesitate to ask to be tagged) @ateezbabysitters

Also don't hesitate to comment and share :)

[ineloqueent]

Starstruck: Part 8

Brian May x Fem!Reader

This is Part 8 of a multi-part fic. Click the links below to read the Masterpost, the previous part, or the next part of the fic :)

Masterpost / Part 7 / Part 9

Summary: When studying at Imperial College in the 1970s, your path is crossed by a beautiful boy as much in love with the stars as you.  

Warnings: swearing, slight (?) angst, far too much narration about the beauty of stars/space...

Historical Inaccuracies: once more, n/a. i’m on a roll!

Word Count: 4.3k (again, haha)

⁺˚*·༓☾ ☽༓･*˚⁺

Lightning crashed cacophonously outside of your bedroom window, and you jumped in surprise. Rarely did it storm in London. Normally it just rained. But the weather tonight was fierce— thunder boomed like a woman scorned, and the rain lashed against the sides of the house, roiling like the tempered sea.

The phone in the hallway rang, and you yelped, then proceeded to haul yourself from your bed so as to answer it.

“Y/N?” Heather stood in the hallway and glanced between you and the phone. “It’s just a phone, yeah?”

You nodded and Heather crossed her arms. “You’ve been jumpy for weeks. Why don’t you just call him?”

The phone rang on persistently, and you wanted to pick it up, if only to make the noise stop. But Heather was blocking your way.

“Call who.” It wasn’t a question. You didn’t need to ask who she meant, and she didn’t need to specify.

“You know very well that I’m talking about Brian,” Heather leveled her gaze on you. “Just call him. Say whatever you have to say. Hell if I know what’s going on, but I give bloody good advice and you’d be silly not to follow it.”

“Heather,” you sighed. “Would you let me pick up the phone to speak to whomever it is that’s already calling?”

“How do you know it’s for you, Princess?” With that, she snatched up the phone. “Hello? This is Heather.” She paused, then smirked to herself. “Of course, Freddie. I’ll get her on the phone.” To you, she said, “Fine. You win. But only because Rog’s already called me twice today.” She pushed the phone into your hand and entered your shared room. She flopped down on her bed, picking up a copy of Music Life.

“Hello, Fred?”

“Y/N, darling!” Freddie always began his phone calls like this. “Fancy a drink?”

“Freddie, it’s—” you glanced at your watch, “eight-thirty at night.”

“Yes, so why do you sound like you’re about to go to bed?”

You sighed. “Why now, Freddie? You must know I’m not in the mood.”

“Oh, Y/N, you’re never in the mood.” There it was. He knew you too well. “And I want a chat.” His voice had dipped, taken on a quality of quiet honesty, a certain degree of sobriety.

After weeks of carefully avoiding the topic of Mary, and the topic of his feelings in general, would Freddie finally feel okay to tell you what was going on?

You hoped so. You’d been too anxious about Freddie’s possible reaction to your asking— you’d learned your lesson with these things— and so you had not asked at all.

“I’m on my way.”

“That’s the spirit! See you soon, darling!” There was a click.

You poked your head into the bedroom, “Heather, I’m going over to Freddie’s.”

“Sayonara, Y/N,” Heather waved at you over the top of her magazine. She seemed distracted by daydreams of a certain blonde-haired drummer. She’d probably pick up the phone and ring him as soon as you’d left. They’d talk into the night like the moon and the sun crossing paths between the dawn or the dusk, as you’d once done with Brian, your very own kindred spirit.

You didn’t even notice that you’d wound the rainbow scarf around your neck until you were too far down the road and it was too late to discard it again.

⁺˚*·༓☾ ☽༓･*˚⁺

“Freddie?”

“In the kitchen, dearie!”

You discarded your outerwear by the door and padded on socked feet into the tile-floored room. You were surprised to discover that it was not only Freddie standing there, but Deacy and Roger too.

“Hiya,” you said slowly, in puzzlement. No one was drinking alcohol, unless someone had invented tea bags for gin in the past twenty-four hours and neglected to inform you.

“Y/N, how nice,” Deacy smiled and toasted you with his tea.

“Yes, I think…” you murmured.

Roger was drumming his fingers on his mug. He seemed peculiarly high-strung.

“What’s going on?” you asked when no one spoke.

Freddie was quick to sweep a friendly arm around your shoulders. “Why, a gathering of friends, of course. Are you now also opposed to friendship with the three of us, hm? Not enough to alienate one of four?”

They wanted to talk about Brian. That was why you were here.

You didn’t want to talk about Brian. “I didn’t alienate him,” you said irritatedly. Freddie let his arm fall.

“Just trying to speak your sciency language,” he shrugged.

“You haven’t spoken to Brian for weeks,” Roger supplied, as though you needed to be reminded.

“I’m well aware.”

“But—” began John.

“This has nothing to do with me and everything to do with him,” you retorted. “I said something stupid, I apologised. He didn’t accept my apology, and here we are.”

Deacy looked positively crestfallen. He tried so unwaveringly hard to hold everyone together, and the look on his face almost made you take back your harsh assessment of the situation. Almost. Sometimes you had to stand your ground.

“Y/N,” Roger said cautiously, “you should know that he was rather close to his aunt.”

You closed your eyes in anguish. You’d tried not to think about how your words to Brian might have brought him painful memories, brought grief very close to the surface. Ill-willed or not, it was clear you’d hurt him.

But still, a stubbornness fought back within you. He had let you worry, and he had not given you a chance, and that had torn at you.

“He’s as delicate as his music, darling.”

Perhaps Freddie had put it perfectly, because you understood. And you would forgive Brian as soon as he forgave you. Before he forgave you.

“He just needs time,” John placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “He’ll come around.”

You were about to nod when another voice sounded in the hall.

“Freddie?”

“In the kitchen, darling!”

You glanced at Freddie. “Wait a minute.”

Brian’s curly head appeared in the door.

“Oh, you did not do this,” your sympathy dissipated at the sight of Brian, for he roused in you an anger at yourself, a relentless hatred that swathed you in despair and confusion.

He appeared to feel the same way about you. “Freddie,” Brian said sternly.

Freddie threw his hands up. “Why is it that you all seem to think this was my idea?”

“Because it’s usually your idea,” you deadpanned.

“So you can agree on something, yay!” Freddie looked ready to give this fact a standing ovation. “Only, it wasn’t my idea. It was Roger’s.”

You turned to glare at Roger, only to find that he wasn’t where he’d been before.

And nor was Deacy.

There were two doors to the kitchen, and from the one to your left there came the clicking of a lock.

“Time to go, I think,” said Freddie, and before you could register what was going on, he’d pushed Brian into the room with you and slammed the second door shut with himself on the other side.

The second lock clicked.

“What the hell, Freddie!” Brian shouted as you flew at the door to uselessly rattle its handle.

“Roger. It was Roger’s idea,” you heard Freddie sigh.

“Bloody good one too,” said Roger from the opposite side.

“This is ridiculous,” you declared.

“Let us out,” Brian shook the other door’s handle, and his eyes flashed angrily when you caught them.

“No.” That was Deacy. “Not until the two of you talk. Or jump each other’s bones. Either one works, but it’s got to be one of them.”

“John Richard Deacon!” you bellowed, a flush flaring across your cheeks. A twin flush coloured Brian’s features, and you stared. Even in anger he bore his serene beauty, soft-lipped and deathly still, though his eyes burned like dying stars.

No voices answered your shout this time. They’d bloody well left.

“Stop looking at me,” Brian snapped, and your eyes immediately fell away from him.

“Sorry,” you muttered.

“You say that too often.”

“You don’t say it enough!” you cried. “You and your bloody pride.”

He scoffed. “Yes, Y/N, pretend you understand.”

You groaned. “Not like you’ve given me a chance to.”

“Well, god, it’s a wonder when you’re so—”

“You know what, Brian,” you whirled to face him, “shut up for a bloody second.”

His lips pressed closed, more in surprise than in obedience, but it would have to do.

“I have not spoken to you for weeks, and I don’t even fucking know why.”

He sputtered. “Because— because you’re being impossible!”

“I’m being impossible? How can I be, when you haven’t let me?”

“Well—”

But you’d had enough. You could be gentle, but what was gentleness if not offset by honesty?

“What is it that you want me to say? Honestly, tell me, because I’d like to know.”

He carded a hand through his hair. “I don’t—”

“You don’t know, do you?”

“No, alright, I don’t! Happy?”

“Not even close.”

“Excellent. What a fine pair we make,” Brian grumbled dramatically, throwing up his hands before letting them fall to his sides. He looked defeated, he looked tired. You were tired. Tired of arguing with a person who was supposed to be your friend.

You heaved a sigh. “But I do know one thing.” You approached him carefully. He didn’t step away. “I need you,” you said, “and quite frankly, you need me. I’m sorry that I was so insensitive. But if you won’t talk to me about this, then we’ve got to carry on as we did before.” His gaze was intense when he peered at you beneath his eyelashes, but you did not blink.

“You’re my friend, Brian,” you took his hands in yours, “my wonderful friend, who lends me beautiful scarves without a second thought and talks about the superiority of short-period comets, and I don’t want to see you failing Carmichael’s class because some idiot didn’t help you with your derivatives.”

He didn’t pull his hands back toward him, he let you hold them. The unbearable heat of his anger had turned to warmth, and it flooded through his hands and enveloped your own.

A smile ghosted his mouth. Your heart skipped dangerously.

“That was surprisingly touching, Y/N.”

You could have laughed in relief, in elation.

“Charming, Bri,” you opted for apathy instead. “You could’ve left out the surprising bit, you know.”

“Oh, no,” he murmured. “Can’t let you get too confident, love.”

You were all too aware that his hands still rested with yours, all too aware of the almost imperceptible pout that his lips always bore, all too aware of the way the light fell across his face and cast his eyes in a shadow that made them all the more lovely to behold. Tantalising.

“I’m sorry for the way I behaved,” Brian said softly. “It was unforgivably childish.”

“And yet you are forgiven,” you spared him a small smile.

“Thank you.”

He squeezed your hands tightly and you hung on to the feeling even as he let go.

“Now,” he raised his voice, “would you let us out, please?”

You heard Roger laugh, and the door unlocked.

You followed Brian through the opened door and into the living room, where you found Deacy and Freddie handing Roger crumpled pound notes, the second looking decidedly more peeved than the first.

Roger’s expression was smug as he tapped ash from his cigarette into a flower-patterned ashtray. “We had a little bet…”

You glanced at John and Freddie. “You two. You know he’s going to hold this over you forever, right?”

Deacy nodded, closing his eyes. “Worst decision I’ve made in my life.”

Roger snorted in laughter. “And that’s saying something.”

Freddie only drank his tea cooly, took a drag from his own cigarette.

“Funny,” Roger reclined lazily on the sofa, “that’s the second time that trick has worked.”

“You’ve locked arguing friends into a kitchen before?” said Brian.

“Well, not a kitchen, but a room, yes,” Roger grinned and blew smoke into the air. Deacy waved it away, scrunching up his nose. “Actually,” he amended, “it was more of a cupboard, but yeah.”

“Honestly, I’m not sure why you’re surprised,” you responded to Brian.

John sighed. “Please stop encouraging him. He’ll never let it go.”

Freddie hummed in agreement, pursuing a staring contest with Roger. “Yes, don’t give him any good ideas.”

“Far too late for that.”

“I think I need a stronger tea,” said Freddie.

And just like that, everything was back to normal. Or, more or less normal, anyway.

You doubted you would ever be able to look at Brian in the same way as you had before.

Something had changed.

⁺˚*·༓☾ ☽༓･*˚⁺

March became April, and April turned to May.

May. Funny that to some people, it was only the name of a month.

But to you— to Freddie, to John, to Roger— May was Brian May. Soft-spoken but passionate, controlling, caring, motherly, silly, stubborn, and pensive was Brian May.

Opulent but direly shy Freddie, goofy and sweet-hearted Deacy, rebellious yet thoughtful Roger. The four of them together were magic.

It brightened your day when you went to their rehearsals, where John threw peanuts into Brian’s hair during his guitar solos, and Freddie struck up random chords on the piano to pen a parody, and Roger twirled his drumsticks in elaborate arrangements between fills, and Brian— well. Brian. Your breath hitched when he smiled at you.

Queen was the camaraderie and escapism you didn’t know you needed.

They treated you like family, like a part of their family, and there was never a band meeting without you to weigh in your opinion, never a rehearsal without you to make suggestions for this, that, or the other to make Queen just a touch better.

They had now begun writing for the new album, and it was an extensive process. It was untitled and contained a handful of half-written songs. Or so they all claimed. You’d only heard snippets of two songs.

The main issue lay in that Queen was attempting to juggle studies, part-time jobs, home life (in Deacy’s case), and the band. To add to this, there was the fact that they had only an empty lecture hall in which to practice. The space was simply not designed for the creative experimentation of four usually-squabbling musicians. Thus, rehearsal location became the main topic of discussion during the band “meetings”, which involved the five of you, as well as Queen’s new manager, John Reid, and normally descended into chatter over tea and biscuits after someone started off on a tangent and the others too forgot the world around them.

But when the world really fell away for you was every Thursday night, when Brian turned up at your place to learn derivatives and to teach guitar.

His improvement was incredible— not that you thought he was so terrible at maths that you found it incredible that he could improve, but rather, it impressed you how quickly he improved. It was like a wave, building, building, building, and then suddenly, understanding. And his understanding was brilliant.

When maths and science were involved, Brian spoke another language. He spoke it so fluently, it was like he’d invented it. His eyes lit up, and he just talked. God, he gushed. He was immersed, he lost himself in it entirely, in the numbers and theories and photographs and diagrams.

He loved the stars as much as you.

You’d never been able to explain to anyone what it was like, to feel your breath being taken away by the world above, even when there was little to be seen during daylight. The sky was wide and open and forever, a hopefulness in the unknown— night after night, the stars would be there to welcome you home.

You had never felt like a person; you had always felt like a star. Distant, cold at first sight, but white hot to the touch. The days were your bane, but night brought you glory.

And when Brian spoke of the universe, he was the night.

He also seemed impressed with your progress, in guitar, and if you were being honest, you were proud of yourself too.

It was getting far easier to move between difficult chords, now that your fingers were accustomed to the movements and strengthened by stretching. You were getting the hang of vibrato and of using your wrist to help you create certain sounds, rather than relying on your fingers alone.

And you were enjoying yourself.

Brian could see it too.

“Amazing,” he said one day, shaking his head. “Look at you!”

You laughed in delight, because there was a certain euphoria in hitting the right notes at the right times, melding them together to create melodies, and not only that, but you were the one creating the melodies, the music. It was the purest rush of power.

Then there came the day when you could play all of ‘The Width of a Circle’. Not perfectly, not without a few mishaps and mistakes, but play the whole eight-minute song you could, nonetheless. And you had no doubt that the amount your skill had improved by was thanks to Brian.

“Want to play it together?”

You glanced up at him.

His chin was inclined ever-so-slightly, and his eyes twinkled.

You smiled. “Yeah.”

“Lead us in, then,” he nodded to you, and you began the opening riff.

Brian joined in easily, and you almost lost your concentration in awe of the way he had harmonised his playing to yours.

You were tapping your foot to keep the beat, and he was leaning back and nodding his head to the music. He grinned and you smiled, and he moved to lean his shoulder against yours as he played.

You laughed through a chord progression and leaned so that you were playing back to back.

You could feel the shift of his shoulders against your back, and the warmth that emanated from his skin, and you closed your eyes as you played, because never before had you felt your soul so intertwined with that of another person. It was bliss.

The song was over far sooner than an eight-minute song should have seemed, and when the last notes rang out from the guitars, you turned around.

His expression was one of pure joy, and you imagined that your face bore a similar mien.

“That was— that was fantastic.” You had searched in vain for a word and finally settled on fantastic, because nothing would do the moment justice anyhow.

“We should do this more often,” Brian said, pushing his curls back from his face with another smile. He was always smiling these days. And how much like a star he looked when he smiled.

“You think you could handle being in my presence more than just every Thursday?”

“On top of every time we have rehearsals or meetings for the band,” he reminded you.

You nodded. “See, I don’t think you could handle it.”

Really, he would probably be okay, assuming he didn’t secretly hate you. But you, on the other hand, would probably not survive seeing him with his sunlit eyes and half-buttoned shirts more often than you already did.

He bit his lip, and of this you were painfully aware.

“No,” he murmured, “I don’t think I could handle it.”

You sucked in a breath.

You both jumped at the sound of Big Ben chiming, and the staticky feel of the air around you was relieved.

“Better go,” said Bri apologetically. “Fred’s wants us up early tomorrow, to discuss concepts for the album, but I guess you’ll be coming to that..?”

“Oh, yeah,” you remembered. “Nearly forgot about that.”

“Good thing you have me here,” he winked, then set to gathering up his things.

He didn’t see how you pressed your lips together, wrapped your arms around your yourself. It was starting to annoy you, how you behaved around him. You had no reason to feel so… so… so strangely. It was just Brian. Stupidly beautiful astrophysicist Brian.

Oh.

Despite Bri’s comment about not giving you “the wrong idea” all those weeks ago, when you’d made the mistake of inquiring about his disappearance, you found yourself thinking about him more often than not, and longing for his touch upon your skin.

Oh god.

You would not go down that path. It would ruin you, become your undoing.

The sooner he left tonight, the better.

The sooner he left, the better.

You could only hope that Queen would be scheduling their next tour for the near future.

⁺˚*·༓☾ ☽༓･*˚⁺

“Good morning, darling!” said Freddie the following day when you arrived at his place for the meeting.

“Hiya Freddie, everyone.” Polite greetings chorused back to you.

Freddie, Deacy, Bri, and Reid were already assembled around Freddie’s coffee table in the sitting room, but it appeared Roger was running late, as per usual.

Atop your list of problems for the time being, however, was the fact that there was barely any room to sit down.

Sitting room my arse.

Reid and Deacy, immersed in conversation, each occupied an armchair on one side of the table, and Freddie and Brian were squeezed onto a loveseat that already looked decidedly uncomfortable.

Brian stood up and walked over to you. “Let me take that,” he said, easing the weight of your messenger bag from your shoulder. His fingertips skimmed your shoulder and your skin tingled.

“Thank you,” you smiled at him gratefully as he set down your bag.

Then Roger arrived, big sunglasses barely obscuring the bags beneath his eyes. He’d obviously been out partying the previous night. Likely he’d been out with Heather, who had arrived home in the wee hours of the morning, waking you in the process.

“Morning everyone,” Roger said drowsily, neither bothering to acknowledge replies nor his surroundings as he took the spot Brian had previously tenanted.

“Rog, that was my seat.”

Roger scoffed airily. “Was. And now it has a new owner.” He shuffled farther to Freddie’s side of the sofa. “Go on, squeeze in. There’s room for your spindly limbs yet.”

Brian crossed his arms. “And leave nowhere for the lady to sit?” he gestured to you and you pulled your cardigan more tightly around your shoulders, slightly flustered at being addressed a lady.

Freddie sighed laboriously. “Oh, hurry up and work something out, darlings, we’ve got work to do!”

“Yes,” John interjected, raising his teacup from its saucer. “We’ve got to sort out those finances Sheffield duped us out of.”

You didn’t want to be a bother. “It’s fine, I’ll just stand.”

“For the whole meeting?” asked Brian.

You shrugged. “Can’t be that long, can it?”

“Nonsense— you know how Fred goes on. You sit down. I’ll stand,” Bri insisted.

“Really, no, it was your spot first.”

He shook his head. “I won’t—”

“Oh for fuck’s sake.” Roger yanked on Brian’s arm and Brian fell onto the sofa with an oof. Then the drummer snatched your sleeve and pushed you into Brian’s lap.

Upon reflex, Brian’s arms wrapped around your middle to catch you, and your hands went straight to his.

Deacy’s cup clinked against its porcelain dish. Reid smiled faintly in confusion, but Roger looked smug and Freddie folded his hands neatly.

You blushed. Brian’s fingers were warm on your stomach. But you wouldn’t let any of it faze you— no need to make any more of a scene than you already had.

Brian started, beginning to pull away, “I’m so sorry—”

You cut him off, patting his hands. “So what’s on the agenda for today, Deacy?”

John blinked. Then his features broadened into a smile, which he tried to hide.

“What?”  you said with the fabricated nonchalance of an Oscar-winning actress. “Can friends not sit together these days? Will you be scandalised if I show my ankle?” You tugged on your trouser leg and wriggled your foot.

“Aha, no,” Deacy said carefully. He was making the face he made when he was trying not to say whatever innuendo had just formed on his tongue. The others looked on in silence, rapt with attention.

“Hm?” You touched Brian’s knee with light fingers. You could’ve sworn that his breath caught; he went very still behind you, beneath you.

Freddie broke the awkward silence. “We haven’t got all day, you know. What’ve we got to talk about, John?”

“You first. You called the meeting, Fred.”

“Oh. Yes. Well. I had an idea for costumes,” Freddie began.

“Costumes?” said Reid. “Fred, you’ve yet to write the music for the next album. I can book you a tour without costumes, but I can’t bloody well book you a tour without music to play on it.”

Freddie waved his hand. “Music comes to us like breathing, dearie. Don’t you worry about that. We’ll have an album and more in no time, but image, image takes time.”

“Time and effort,” agreed Roger, who adored the glamour aspect of performance no less than Freddie.

Reid sighed. “Alright. So, costumes. Budget, John?”

Deacy put down his tea and flipped through a notebook. “We’re alright for a couple hundred pounds,” he said.

Reid raised his eyebrows. “A couple hundred? Where’d you get that kind of money? You’re not peddlin’ drugs, are you?”

Deacy shook his head placidly. “Pays not to have a studio to rehearse in.”

“What’ve you got in mind, Fred?” Brian made his first point of conversation, and you felt his soft breath on your ear. You quickly pushed the thought from your mind— focus, costumes.

Freddie grinned. “Zandra Rhodes.”

⁺˚*·༓☾ ☽༓･*˚⁺

A/N: this is absolutely one of the chapters i’m most proud of writing. i think i put a bit too much of myself into my stories sometimes, though. let me know you get tired of me talking about the ethereality of starlight ;)

taglist: @melting-obelisks​ @hgmercury39​  @stardust-killer-queen​ @topsecretdeacon

Masterpost / Part 7 / Part 9

[colonel-insomniac]

Read more of my spongebob work here.

10,000 years will give you such a crick in the neck

Just a quick note, Red Light is a song by The Regrettes and I absolutely love their music style it just feels very 80’s girl pop. So that’s where the song is from, and Lacy Loo, another song by them, is referenced as well. Also a certain voice actors Instagram was the inspiration behind Sponge In The High Seas . It was Tom Kenny, his Instagram handle is TomKennyandthehiseas. I just couldn’t resist.

“You can’t love me, you’re not allowed to…”

Patrick Starr was absolutely smitten with the leader of the popular 80’s style band, Sponge In The High Seas. The band’s leader was a short young boy, 19 years old. He had slightly curly auburn hair that bounced slightly when the music called for it. This boy’s whole aesthetic was mainly pinks, but branched to pastels too.

“‘Cause if you did, I’d probably run from you…”

Tonight, his outfit was a large pink sweater tucked into a pair of shorts with what Patrick can only assume are either cherries or strawberries. Maybe flowers? Anyways, he also had these circular pink sunglasses perched on his nose, although the indoor location and the time of day didn’t really call for them.

Patrick sat in his usual spot, towards the back so as to not be noticed or bothered. Next to him, Sandy was perched on her chair, fidgeting and nervously tapping her fingers against one another. It reminded Patrick of a squirrel, but he wouldn’t dare say that to Sandy.

There are other things he’d never tell Sandy. Like, for example, that he used to know the lead singer of Sponge In The High Seas. Bobby is his name—well, Robert, technically, but he always went by Bobby. He didn’t like his full name for some reason so he would always opt to go by the shortened version.

“You can’t hate me, though you probably do…”

They didn’t have a falling out or anything. Pat had had to leave the beach town he grew up in for a while. It’d been after a fight with his parents, he left and only grabbed his phone, charger, wallet, and car keys. He left and didn’t tell anyone. Didn’t message anyone because he was so desperate to try and keep himself from breaking down. But when he got that first phone call from Bobby, and heard the teary voicemail left when Pat didn’t pick up, he’d had to pull over onto the side of the road. Too many tears, he couldn’t see.

He came to the town roughly a month ago, and found that with no reason to stay, his parents had left. It was kinda disheartening, Patrick thought, to find that his parents hadn’t cared enough to try and find him. And when hed came to his favorite diner and found Bobby on the stage, he had made sure to sit where Bobby wouldn’t be able to see him. He wasn’t ready to face his best buddy yet.

“Cause then I might just die and have to blame you…”

Other than Bobby, the band consisted of one Edward Telford. That part was a shock to Pat, Eddie couldn’t stand Bobby when Pat had skipped town. It was one of his favorite things to think about when he was alone at night.

Pat had managed to come up with all sorts of crazy theories, but none that were probably real. Stranger than Eddie willingly being in a band with Bobby, he was also playing guitar. Pat didn’t know that Eddie could play guitar. Pearl was on drums, which was entertaining to watch, because he knew there had to be some sort of conversation with Eugene Krabbes, Bobby’s manager at the Krusty Krabbe. Or was, Pat didn’t know if Bobby was still working there. Obviously.

“I think it’s about time you go up to him.” Sandy whispered to Patrick, still watching. He knew she was probably right, because Sandy is super smart, but the thought made his stomach clench.

Sandy and Pat had met when Patrick had first come back to town. He was sitting in a grassy park, and she approached him, big smile and country twang. When she’d mentioned Bobby, Patrick had immediately trusted her enough to tell her everything. If Bobby truly let her be close to him, then she’s got to be a good person.

Because although Bobby’s always been super kind to everyone, only a few people got allowed into his close circle.

“I can’t breathe, well maybe that’s okay…”

When Patrick shrugged his shoulders, Sandy let out a quiet sigh: “Now Patrick Starr, you listen to me. Bobby misses you, yer all he talks about.” Patrick shrugs agains and crosses his arms. He doesn’t wanna talk about this right now.

“Do you know why he formed this band?” Pat shakes his head and clamps his hands over his ears. He can’t know. He has a feeling if he knows, he’s gonna spiral out of control.

Sandy pushes gently on his arms, sympathy filling her eyes. “He’s doing other to find you. He told me all about it. Thinks somehow you’ll show up at one of his concerts and approach him.” When he looks at her, she hurriedly adds “don’t give me that look, you oughta know I ain’t told him yet. But that doesn’t mean I feel good about lyin’ to the poor boy. Half these songs are about you, Patrick. I know you ain’t a dimwit, you must’ve figured that out by this point.”

“Maybe I’ll just save it for another rainy day…”

He thinks of the song Lacy Loo, thinks how he thought maybe that song was about him. He’d dismissed it at the time, figuring he’d read too deep. But now, there’s a possibility that it’d all been true.

“I can’t…I’m not ready yet.” Is his response, and he can see Sandy roll her eyes in the dim light. He’s watching her intently, looking for any sign of deception.

“I reckon you’re ready Pat.” She pats his arm lightly. “‘Sides, I told Bobby I’d meet him after he finished tonight.” Pat could feel the blood drain out of his face as he spluttered, managing to hiss out an incredulous ‘what?!’

“I can’t sleep, well maybe that’s alright…”

Sandy nods, and they turn back to face the stage when Bobby talks into the microphone. “Alright folks,” Pat notes the pleasant smile on Bobby’s face. “This is the last song of the night.” Bobby proceeds to laugh at the protests from the audience. The laughter gets a smile out of Patrick, a tiny one.

But now all Pat can think about is the reunion in just a few minutes. He’s so nervous, he can hardly hear the number over his thinking.

Sandy must be able to tell that Patrick is debating running out of the diner because she rests her hand on his wrist and gives him a stern look that glues him in his place. He doesn’t want this, but he’s also too scared of Sandy to shake her off and leave. She knows where he lives, too, so he stays put. Maybe he can slip out before without her noticing.

“I can save my sleeping for another empty night…”

The song ends, and Patrick stands when everyone else does, giving the band a standing ovation. Bobby bows and gestures at Eddie and Pearl, who also bow. Pearl also gives a peace sign at the hoots regarding her as the background vocalist. Pat has to admit she deserves it, her voice is amazing, angelic, Pat thinks.

“Before you all go for the night, please, if you know Patrick Starr and have any information of his whereabouts or safety, please don’t hesitate to let me know.” Patrick’s cheeks heat up in shame, the pleading look in Bobby’s eyes like a stab in the heart.

Sandy grabs Patrick’s arm and steers him towards the stage. Bobby’s turned around and pointing at something as he chats with a crew member. Eddie and Pearl are also not facing him, which is good for the moment. Patrick watches as Bobby runs a hand through his messy hair, and smiles when he catches sight of pink nail polish. Pearl must’ve put it on him.

“Kiss me at the red light one more time…”

Sandy politely waits for Bobby and the care guy to finish talking before she reaches up and taps Bobby on the back.

This happens in slow mo for Patrick, and each second that passes feels like an hour, and he grows increasingly panicked. Adrenaline kicks in as a result, and he has to fight the urge to turn on his heel and leave.

Bobby turns and gives Sandy a beaming smile, hopping off the stage to give her a hug. He hasn’t et noticed Bobby, and that’s the thing everyone loves about him. When Bobby’s talking to you, he gives you his full attention and it makes you feel like you’re the only thing that matters in life.

But it makes Pat shift from foot to foot. He freezes when Sandy gestures in his direction. “I brought someone for you.” Bobby turns, brows scrunched in confusion, but they fly up when he makes eye contact with Pat. His mouth falls open into an ‘O’ shape.

“Every time I think of you feels like a crime…”

Patrick smiles sheepishly, offering a half a wave. Bobby’s hand covers his mouth and his eyes fill with tears. Patrick falters, and sucks in a breath. Go figure he’d mess this up somehow. He gives a pointed look at Sandy, who shakes her head and mouths the word “wait.”

“Bobby—“ is all he whispers before the boy in pink launches himself at Patrick, openly sobbing into Patrick’s hoodie.

“I never thought you’d come back.” Bobby sniffs after a minute, pulling away and apologizing at the tear stains on Patrick.

Pat waves the apology away, claiming it’s not a big deal. And then Bobby’s face gets serious and he grabs Pat’s hand, dragging him to an empty table. “Where were you and why wouldn’t you answer my calls and texts?” He demands and Pat knows that he owes Bobby so much more than an apology, so much more than an explanation.

He explains everything to Bobby, that night in detail. The raised voices, his parents telling him he’d never get anywhere in life because he couldn’t make above a C in anything other than his photography and music classes. Him shooting back claiming he wanted to study in music and photography. Trying to get them to understand that school just didn’t make sense to him. The terms they slung at him that night, hurling each one like a punch to his body.

He explained the split second decision to run away, pulling over when he heard Bobby’s voicemail. How he’d never stopped feeling bad about leaving Bobby. How Bobby hadn’t left his mind once in his absence.

“I could be green, red, orange, purple or blue…”

When he finishes, Bobby’s crying again, eyes swimming with muted anger, sorrow, and hurt. Pat’s heart pangs, because Bobby should never cry. After a moment of silence, Pat whispers “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have left and not told you anything.”

Bobby shakes his head, and pulls Patrick into a hug, gripping the fabric of his hoodie like Patrick will disappear if he doesn’t. “I get why you didn’t. You needed to have a bit by yourself.”

Pat rests his chin on Bobby's head, holding his freckled friend close. “Still. I shoulda said something. You woulda known how to keep me from running.”

“Next time come to me. I don’t wanna lose you again Pat.” Pat nods, and he smiles as Bobby draws images into the back of Patrick’s hoodie with his finger. His skin lights up despite the clothing.

“But you’re also amazing on stage. I promise that I won’t run without going to you and even then I’ll try not to run as long as you’re not beside me. Figuratively and literally.”

Bobby pulls away, smiling, and cups Patrick’s chin with his hands, and kisses him once. Patrick’s startled, and Bobby pulls away, muttering a “sorry.”

Patrick’s the one who grins first. “Don’t worry about it. I like you, so….” he trails off, unsure of what to say next.

Bobby laughs. “I like you too, you big dork. I wouldn’t get upset over just anyone leaving me like that.” He rolls his eyes playfully, but the comment stings Patrick a little, and Bobby’s quick to realize it. He cringes, opening his mouth to apologize but pat kisses him. “Don’t worry ‘bout it.”

Bobby grins, and intertwines their fingers as he pulls pat behind him so he can finish cleaning up for the night, trying to make sure Pat won’t disappear. For once, Pat can’t be bothered to even try and complain about cleaning. He just wants to be with Bobby.

“Only if it means that I’m keeping you.”

[moshymosh]

Double Identity

Pairings: Steve Rogers x Enhanced!Reader

Warnings: Tooth rotting fluff, mutual pining.

Songs used in this fic (Credits go to Lin-Manuel Miranda): Alexander Hamilton- Listen to this here, Burn- Listen to this here, Who lives, who dies, who tells your story- Listen to it here

A/N: I love the play, Hamilton, though I've never seen it in person, I've watched an animated version and I honestly cried like a baby, this is the animated version I love to watch check it out! Listening to some of the songs on the soundtrack it gave me some inspiration so I cranked out a fic for you guys, enjoy. I might turn this into a series or a mini one if everyone seems to like it and would like the idea of the series Feedback is appreciated and encouraged, send me some request too (Song lyrics are in Bold, Thoughts in Italics) None of the gifs are mine credits go to the owners. First part of Drunken shenanigans will be coming up tomorrow, ill try to write it out, when I have a break from the holidays. Also Happy holidays.

Summary: What would you do if your secret double life is about to come to light? Y/N is an avenger by day and a Broadway star by night. When the Captian decides that the team needs a break, why not go to a Broadway show. Most importantly why not go to the one she’s been secretly starring in?

Steve calls the team to the common room, telling them that he has a surprise for them. Once everyone was in the room, he grins, holding up tickets to see the Broadway show "Hamilton."

"I've decided we're all in need of a little R&R." Steve smirked at the awestruck team.

"Yo, Cap? You feeling ok?" Y/N said, holding her hand up to his forehead in a joking manner. She couldn't stop the thumping heartbeat in her chest at the feeling of her hand, touching his smooth skin.

Steve batted her hand away, laughing all the same at her teasing, despite that his heart was going crazy for the girl. The girl he has been head over heels for since she joined the team. He fell for the sound of her laugh, the sound of her voice when she sang, even if he wasn't her intended target.

See, Y/N was a human siren, much like the mythical creature, minus the fins and only being in the sea part. Y/N learned to hone in her powers, controlling it to affect only who she wanted. Even without being under her spell, she had a beautiful voice; it sounds like freshly falling snow or the peaceful quiet morning after a night of storms.

"I got the best seats in the house." Steve said, waving the tickets in his hand, grinning like an idiot. Y/N's heart stuttered at the sight of his child-like excitement.

"What's the play called?" Natasha asked, looking at Y/N beside her, knowing about Y/N's massive crush on the Captian.

"It's a play called "Hamilton". I've heard good reviews." Steve said, looking at Natasha, not noticing Y/N's face paling at the sound of the play's name. Y/N coughs to cover her nervousness, causing everyone to look at her.

"I think I'm going to stay here. I don't feel so good." She says before turning around and heading to her room, leaving no room for arguments. What the team doesn't know is that she is in that play. She is one of the main characters, Eliza, who is Hamilton's wife.

After sometime hiding in her room, she made sure the team had left. They planned to go for an early dinner. Y/N snuck off to the theater after setting F.R.I.D.A.Y. to tell the team that she was resting if they would call to check up on her.

When Y/N arrived, she was quickly ushered to the dressing rooms to get ready. After she was in costume, she peeked out from behind the red velvet curtains. She spotted her teammates in the fifth row in the center seats. Getting nervous, she closed the curtains and went to her place on the stage.

The opening song began to play as the curtains opened, and a hush fell over the crowd. Y/N fell into her element. She never used her powers on anyone who didn't deserve it, like the crowd in front of her they didn’t need her influence to fall in love with her voice.

When it was her part to sing, she stepped forward to her second mark. Her voice rang clear.

"When he was ten, his father split, full of it, debt-ridden. Two years later, see Alex and his mother bedridden, half dead. Sittin' in their own sick, the scent thick."

The cast members that were singing the opening song with her began to sing as she stepped back in line with them

"Alex got better, but his mother went quick."

A sense of recognition fell over her teammates, but they all shook it off, remembering that Y/N was at home. The play continued on, but Steve couldn't shake the small feeling that he knew the woman who was playing Eliza. His thoughts drifted to Y/N vowing to bring her to see them play, thinking she would like it.

When the first intermission started, Steve stepped out into the lobby with the team. Some of them went to use the bathroom, others to get some refreshments. Everyone who saw them decided to not interrupt their night with pictures and autographs. Steve stepped to a quiet spot and called F.R.I.D.A.Y. to check on Y/N. F.R.I.D.A.Y. said her programed response. Steve sighed, wishing she was here and hung up.

Steve headed back to his seat despite another twenty minutes remaining on the intermission. Behind the stage, Y/N chatted with her castmates, while checking her phone, seeing that F.R.I.D.A.Y. messaged her about Steve calling to check up on her. She sent a message back telling F.R.I.D.A.Y. that if Steve calls back to tell him that she is asleep. Receiving a conformation, the call for places rang out backstage. After a costume change, and putting her phone away, the play was reaching the point for her solo song.

Reaching her place and began to sing while acting out what she was supposed to.

"I saved every letter you wrote me, from the moment I read them. I knew you were mine, you said you were mine, I thought you were mine." 

Steve almost choked on his own tongue. 'That can't be her; she's sick at home.' He thought he glanced over at his team, who all looked like they thought the same thing. Shaking it off as it's someone who has a similar voice, he settled back into his seat.

Y/N reached the end of the song, singing out the final line of the song, with the emotion her character required.

" I'm watching it burn. The world has no right to my heart. The world has no place in our bed. They don't get to know what I said. I'm burning the memories, burning the letters that might have redeemed you. You forfeit the place in my heart. You forfeit the place in our bed. You'll sleep in your office, instead, with all of the memories of when you were mine. I hope that you... burn."

Steve's suspicions were slowly being confirmed. He was in awe that if this was Y/N, she fooled all of her teammates. Steve was falling even more for her if that was the case. He felt a sense of pride that his girl was on Broadway, singing for the whole world. Steve shook off his thoughts as the end of the play approached. Y/N took to the stage again as the final song started.

Y/N felt the spotlight on her again and began to act and sing her part.

"I put myself back in the narrative. I stop wasting time on tears; I live another fifty years. It's not enough. I interview every soldier who fought by your side. I try to make sense of your thousands of pages of writings; you really do write like you're running out of time."

At this point, she's facing the crowd, arms outstretched holding papers in her hands. That's when it hits the team that it is, in fact, Y/N. Standing on a stage, singing her heart out and not at home in bed. Steve begins to grin like a fool, heart beating wildly at the sight. Steve was hanging onto the edge of his seat. He vows to confess his feelings after the play is over.

"Oh, can I show you what I'm proudest of?" 

Y/N's voice drops, so she sings softly.

"I established the first private orphanage in New York City. I helped raise hundreds of children."

Her voice raises to project more emotion into the song, giving everyone in the crowd chills.

"I get to see them growing up! In their eyes, I see you Alexander! I see you every time! And when my time is up, have I done enough?"

Her castmates join in with her singing.

"Will they tell your story?"

The song dies down to a softer pitch, and Y/N wraps her arms around herself as instructed to do, as she sings her final line. Tears are running down her face, putting emotion into her character.

"Oh I can't wait to see you again, It's only a matter of time."

The play comes to an end, and the crowd gives a standing ovation. The cast bows and gives their thanks to the crowd who came out to see them perform. The cast left and went their separate ways after the crowd had left. Y/N stepped outside, exiting through the back, in hopes of sneaking back to the tower before everyone got back. Her duffle bag was slung over her shoulder, carrying her change of clothes. Closing the door behind her, trying to make as little sound as possible. When she turned, she saw Steve, leaning up against the building.

Y/N stopped short with a gasp. "Steve!" Putting a hand over her heart, to try to slow its rapid beating. "Wha-... Uh... How did you find out?"

"That doesn't matter now. There's something I need to-" Steve was cut off by Bucky, rounding the corner of the building.

"Hey, Steve! You find Y/N?" Bucky said but stopped walking towards him at the sight of Y/N.

"Dude! Trying to confess my feelings! Get out of here, jerk." Steve said, making a shooing gesture that caused Y/N to giggle. Y/N stepped forward, placing a hand on Steve's shoulder, causing him to turn around.

Y/N crashed her lips to Steve's, throwing her arms around his neck. She ran her fingers in his hair, which had grown slightly longer over the past months. Steve's eyes widen in shock but quickly closed them, pulling her closer as he melted into the kiss. 

Y/N pulled back, gasping out an "I feel the same way." Before Steve crashed his lips back to hers.

"Good, cause I don't think I'm going to let you go again." Steve mumbled against her lips.

"Good." Y/N whispered as they pulled apart, resting their foreheads against each other. 

"Good." Was Steve's reply.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------"Do not pity the dead. Pity the living, and, above all, those who live without love." - Albus Dumbledore

[beyond-the-mirror]

Music of the Night (V x Reader)

Hello everyone! Another chapter done and ready. Now that I got some few chapters done, I’ll go back to writing Nocturnal Encounters as well, so stay tuned.

Special thanks to @minteyeddemon and @thedyingmoon for being awesome writers. If you want to be tagged too, you are free to ask me anytime.

…………

Chapter 5: Revelation

“Bravi! Bravi! Bravissimi!”

A standing ovation was right before you. Tears started forming in your eyes as you curtsied gratefully to the audience. You had just finished performing Elissa’s aria ‘Think of Me’, and judging by the reaction of all the spectators, your performance was an utter success.

The velvet curtains closed in front of you, allowing you to retire back towards the green room where all your colleagues congratulated you warmly for the amazing job you did on the stage.

As an intermission was announced at the end of the act, the Vicomte stood from his seat at one of the boxes and excused himself from his companions. As Raoul walked out and into the hallway, he contemplated what he had just witnessed happening on stage. The way you moved across the stage in smooth and airy strides, the divine emotion conveyed in your voice as you sang the aria, the authenticity and sheer bliss in your smile and your eyes…

Such a wonderful woman you were, skilled, hardworking… When he first laid eyes on you, he felt a unique and tender sensation flowing inside of him. You had bewitched him, and enthralled him to no extend.

As a smile formed on Raoul’s face, he quickly made his way through the hallway.

…………

“What a wonderful night! I am proud to announce that this production has been an outstanding success!” Firmin entered the crowded green room. The opera had just finished and the all the performers and staff members were now reunited there. “Thank you everyone, for we know that tonight’s show couldn’t have been made possible without each and every single one of you. And now, it’s time for a celebration!”

Every time after a successful premiere, one of Fortuna’s most prestigious venues would close off for the day to host a party for all the staff members of the Opera House. Now everybody was looking forward to a nice hangout with food and drinks after all the effort they put in the production finally paid off.

You were currently sitting at your vanity inside your very own private dressing room, given to you since you were now the new lead soprano and actress for ‘Hannibal’. The heavy makeup had finally been removed and your hairdo was already undone, your locks of hair cascading freely down your back. All the accessories and jewelry had now been discarded and carefully put away, your usual earrings now back on your ears, and a lovely white silk robe now over the red and gold costume dress you had been wearing for the musical.

You sat there thoughtfully as you held the portrait of your father in your hands. You had taken it with you and placed it on the vanity of the dressing room for good luck, so that you could feel his spirit right at your side supporting you.

Placing the picture up to your chest, you gently smiled. “Thank you papa.” And with a soft kiss on the image of your father, you placed the picture once again on the vanity before moving a scented candle next to it, carefully lighting it up.

A knock on the door distracted you from your train of thoughts. Moving to open it, you were greeted by Nico as well as…

“Kyrie?! Nero?!” you squealed as the red haired woman ran towards you and pulled you into a warm tight hug. “Why didn’t you tell me you were here in Fortuna?!”

“Wanted to surprise you.” Nero gently hugged you as soon as Kyrie pulled off and let you breathe again. “Although to be honest, we were the ones surprised when we suddenly saw you as the main character.”

“Indeed. Why didn’t you tell us before?” Kyrie questioned you with curiosity and confusion in her eyes. “You were absolutely divine on stage! And your voice was so beautiful, you completely owned that aria!”

Kyrie’s words made a blush appear on your cheeks, that is until Nero asked a question you definitely didn’t want to answer.

“Where did you learn to sing like that?”

“Umm…” you trailed off, unsure of what to tell them. “I-It’s a very long story actually. Let’s just say a… ‘special’ person for me has been giving me a few lessons.”

“Well, whoever this person is hun-” Nico wrapped an arm around your shoulder “-they definitely taught you well judging by that blessed performance of yours. By the way, you going to the party later?”

“Thank you Nico but I’m still not sure. I’m feeling a little tired, that’s all.”

“In that case you should rest, but if you change your mind you can call us anytime and we’ll take you there.” You continued chatting, catching up with every detail that’s happened in your lives. Kyrie has been doing excellently since ‘Wicked!’ turned out to be a huge success in Broadway, and you promised you would save enough money to go see her perform live. You also mentioned the quite eventful times when famous soprano Carlotta Giudicelli used to work at the Opera House, dealing with her meltdowns were a serious handful for everyone and especially for Madame Trish.

After some time, your friends decided to leave so they could get ready for the party, hugging you goodbye and wishing for you to rest enough so that you could join them later. You were about to change out of your costume when another knock sounded on your door.

“Talk about receiving so many visitors in my dressing room.” You thought as you quickly put on your robe and made your way to open the door. Outside was no other than the Vicomte himself, holding a bouquet of luscious red roses.

“Vicomte de Chagny! What do I owe the honor of your visit?”

“There’s no need to keep the formalities dear, you may call me Raoul if you like.” He offered you a warm and charming smile. “May I come in?”

“Oh sure, please do.” You stepped aside to let him enter.

“I came her to congratulate you personally for the outstanding performance tonight, a gifted voice like yours deserves all the praise this world have to offer.” Raoul handed you the bouquet, which you hesitantly accepted since it was a present you didn’t expect at all from the Vicomte.

“I would also like to request, if it’s not too bold for me to ask, if you wanted to assist to our party as my date for the night.”

Your eyes widened in surprise at his request. “Oh… please excuse me Vi- I mean, Raoul, but I’m afraid I… I do not have a proper dress for the occasion.” You weren’t sure to accept Raoul’s invitation, he was the Opera’s patron after all.

“Oh that’s no problem at all, I’m sure we can find an appropriate dress for you in no time. There are a few local designers I know personally who can gladly lend you a gown. ” Now you didn’t know what to say, your eyes glanced around the room, still unsure wether to go with the Vicomte or not.

You took a seat at the vanity. “I’m deeply sorry Raoul, but to be honest I’m feeling a little exhausted after everything that has transpired.” Pausing for a few seconds, the next words came out your mouth without you realizing. “Besides, i don’t think he would agree…”

Raoul raised an eyebrow in confusion “He wouldn’t agree? Your father or… a boyfriend perhaps?”

You mentally scolded yourself. “Oh! Um no… my voice teacher actually. He is a very strict professor and I’m not sure he would like me going.” It was technically true, the phantom took discipline very seriously just like Trish with every rehearsal. He expected you to be always on time and focus on your lessons, no late partying and such shenanigans since he considered them mere earthly matters that would only get in the way of your career.

Still, Raoul kept insisting, always keeping a charming smile and kind eyes. “Please (Y/N), everyone is waiting for our main star to join us to celebrate the premiere’s success. Maybe your professor wants you to relax and have some fun as a reward for all your efforts this season, I’m sure he’ll understand.”

He had a point. Besides, you could still leave the party at a reasonable hour too and still arrive at your lessons on time.

You nodded your answer. “Alright then, I gladly accept your invitation Raoul. I’m just gonna need some time to change and I’ll see you later.”

He flashed a bright grin before taking your hand in his, kissing the knuckles gently. “I shall leave you then, I’m going to wrap up some business affairs with Firmin and Andre and then I’ll come back to you.” He walked to the door, pausing right before stepping out. “See you later, dear (Y/N).”

As door closed, you turned to your father’s portrait. “I’m not sure papa. I mean, he seems to be a nice man, but…” You let out a sigh. Although at first glance it seemed like Raoul was trying to make an advance on you, there was the possibility that maybe you were simply misunderstanding his actions and that he was just being nice to you. Besides, you didn’t consider too appropriate having a close relationship with the very own patron of the Opera, with you choosing to rather keep things as professional as possible.

“Oh papa… what should I do?”

Suddenly, a chill ran down your spine, feeling as if you were no longer alone in the dressing room.

“Such an insolent boy!” the Phantom’s voice resonated through the entire room, a startled gasp leaving your lungs at the anger in his tone. “How dare this young suitor bask in your glory? Requesting you to ditch your singing lessons for a simple night out.”

“No Phantom, do not speak ill of him.” You searched around the room for the source of his voice, but couldn’t find him. “He’s only being nice. My friends want me to go too, everyone has the right to celebrate after a job well done.”

“I hope you haven’t forgotten what I always tell you about earthly matters.” His voice was now calm but chilling, but you didn’t falter. After all, your family has raised you to always stand up and assert yourself in any situation, and if if your decision was to go and celebrate with your friends then the Phantom has no right to decide over you.

“I haven’t Phantom. ‘Detach yourself from all earthly connections, for they only drive you further from the heavenly music’, those are the words you gave me. I did promise you to never forget them, for you have become my guide, my mentor and my guardian after all this time.”

The Phantom hummed thoughtful before speaking once again.

“Flattering, my child. I am glad to have proven myself worthy of your trust, a precious treasure I shall keep with me always.” He now spoke in a very soft tone, the deepness of his voice almost enrapturing you. “And to show my gratitude for the trust you have confided me these last years, I shall now reveal myself to you, see why in shadow I hide.”

Reveal himself? Were you about to truly meet the Phantom? He kept his identity a total secret ever since he appeared to you that day inside the darkness of the storeroom, and now he was about to reveal his real identity to you!

So many questions filled your mind. Who is he really? Was he an actual ghost? What was his real name?

“Phantom, where are you now?”

“My lovely nightingale, look at your face in the mirror behind you. I am there inside.”

You turned back. Hanging on the wall in front of you was a full body mirror that was normally used during fitting tests for the costumes and when putting on big and complex gowns for the play. You slowly approached it while staring at your own reflection, wondering what the Phantom meant with him being ‘inside the mirror’.

You were now standing right in front of it, the only reflection on its surface being yours. It was then that strange a silhouette appeared right next to your own reflection, it was barely visible and you tried your best to identify what it was.

As the image became clearer, you almost fell to the ground in fear. The faint image of a tall man had appeared next to your own reflection, he appeared to be wearing an all-black outfit consisting in a tailored suit, a long cape on his back and an elegant wide brim hat that obscured the upper half of his face.

There was no doubt about it. It was him.

“Phantom… Is that really you?”

“Yes, my child. I am your angel of music, the one watching over you all this time.” A clicking sound rang in your ears, and right before you, the mirror began sliding to the side, revealing what appeared to be an old set of stairs that descended deeply into the dark.

And right at the entrance, was the Phantom itself. The exquisite black suit fitted perfectly over his lithe body, the collar sporting a twin pair of intricate silver brooches at the lapels of his shirt joined together by two silver chains and each piece decorated with tiny green jewels. Right over the knot of his black silk tie, another similar brooch was pinned, this one bigger and crowned with a beautiful emerald. Under the brim of his hat, you noticed a white mask covering the left side of his face, making you wonder about a possible reason for the man to obscure his face.

“My angel of music, hide no longer from me.” Soft plump lips parted as the words left his mouth, his voice deep, full of mirth and power.

He raised a hand dressed in a black glove, offering it to you.

“Come to me, my angel of music.”

Something inside you started pulling you towards him, this man that towered over you and held such power and magnificence in his presence. It was like your mind somehow disconnected itself from reality, and unconsciously, you were already taking steps towards the Phantom.

“Come to me, my angel of music.”

He repeated. Your eyes darkened and half-lidded, your lips slightly parted as steady puffs of air left your lungs. His elegant and mighty figure towered over you, tall and proud, an oddly familiar cane held firmly on his other hand. Why was it so familiar? Why?

“Come to me, my angel of music.”

Entering the passage inside the mirror, you stood right before him. And with a sway of his cape, the Phantom closed the mirror back to its former place right behind you.

…………

“What a performance I say! I even dare to assure we have made the greatest discovery of the year with Miss (Y/N)!” Andre exclaimed loudly as they all made their way towards the main foyer of the theatre, now that the business side had been sorted, the only thing left to do was to celebrate.

“I completely agree, I can see a bright and successful career ahead of her.” Raoul added to the new owners’ compliments about you. “Now if you excuse me, gentlemen, I shall fetch Miss (Y/N) from her dressing room. I assume she must be ready by now to go to the party.”

“Very well then Vicomte, we’ll see you both there.” Andre bowed before leaving alongside Firmin.

Once outside your dressing room Raoul politely knocked at the door, but to his surprise, no answer came. He knocked again, twice, still not answer.

“(Y/N)? Is everything alright there?” No answer.

Fearing something might have happened to you, he quickly opened the door… only to find the dressing room completely empty.

“(Y/N)?” His eyes searched everywhere, but couldn’t find you. Looking down, a single rose from the bouquet he had gifted you earlier had fallen to the floor and now laid forgotten in the middle of the room.

[fredthelegend]

Broadway Baby

Pairing: John Deacon x reader

Summary: The band meet a Broadway star and are floored, but it’s Deaky that hits it off with her. 

WC: 1k+

Warnings: none

A/N: My first Deaky story! I love him so much

John and Brian trailed behind Freddie, who was politely speaking to the theater manager as they were given a tour. While in New York City, someone had suggested that they go see a Broadway musical before they left. When the theater found that Queen wanted to come see a show, they’d immediately offered a tour of the theater house to the band. That included a glimpse of backstage, which is where they were now. The buzzing of backstage was exciting, and while it was similar to the dressing rooms that the boys were used to, there was a sort of stress in the air. People were running around like chickens with their heads cut off, some were speaking into headsets, and others were warming up. As John looked around the backstage area, a voice cut through the madness and caught his attention. A woman sat at a piano, warming up without a care for anyone around her. The theater manager noticed the band staring at her.

“That’s (Y/N), she’s our lead,” he said. “She’s incredible, we’re lucky to have her.” They watched as she went through her scales, seeming to go impossibly high while also incredibly low for a woman. Freddie was floored. He walked up to her immediately, simply having to introduce himself to this mystifying woman.

“Hello, darling,” Freddie stuck his hand out and flashed a bright smile, interrupting (Y/N) from her warm up. Her face moved from annoyance to surprise in a millisecond.

“Is it really Freddie Mercury?” she asked, earning a laugh from the band. She stuck her hand out and stood from the piano bench. “It’s a pleasure to meet you!” She grinned wildly before noticing the rest of the band behind Freddie. “Oh, hello!” She waved and the band smiled at her.

“You’re a wonderful singer,” John said, surprising everyone there. He rarely spoke to strangers unless spoken to first. Truth be told, he couldn’t take his eyes off of (Y/N) since the moment he saw her.

“Hi,” (Y/N) smiled brightly. “You must be John.” John seemed to be taken aback for a moment. No one really payed attention to him usually, he was just the shy bassist. She reached her hand out to John and he shook it, probably holding it a little longer than appropriate. They stared into each other’s eyes and their cheeks felt hot. The manager cleared his throat.

“Should we continue on?” He raised his eyebrows and (Y/N) and John dropped their hands, embarrassed.

“You lot go ahead, I’ll catch up,” John said as the rest of the band’s eyebrows moved up towards their hairlines. John was never this forward with perfect strangers. They shrugged and moved to trail behind the theater manager who was already droning on about how many famous stars had found themselves on their stage and blah blah blah. “You have an incredible voice,” John said as (Y/N) guided him to sit on the piano bench next to her.

“Thank you,” she responded shyly. What was into her? She was never shy. She was boisterous, full of life without a care in the world. “I love your work in Queen, you’re a fantastic songwriter.” John smiled proudly. There was something about this woman that made him come out of his shell and he’d only known her for one minute.

They chatted for a few more minutes before it was time for the show. They talked about how similar their lives were, how they didn’t get to sleep much due to the demands of their careers, they swapped funny fan stories, and talked about how much they love what they do. Before he had to join the band in the audience, he gave her a kiss on the cheek as a good luck.

The entire show, the band was rocked by (Y/N) over and over again. She was simply one of the best singers they’d ever heard. She was an amazing actress as well. She could cry on command and it seemed like she could make the entire audience feel every possible emotion. At the end, when (Y/N) came out to take her bow, the entire audience jumped up and gave her a standing ovation. John yelled as loud as he could.

Afterwards, the theater manager found the band and asked if they’d like to see the cast. They enthusiastically agreed, excited to congratulate (Y/N), but none of them were as excited as John. When he saw her again backstage, he surprised everyone again, including himself, when he picked (Y/N) up and spun her around. The band looked at each other again, incredibly confused. It was just great to see John so happy.

“You did amazing!” John said once he’d set her back down. They giggled before the rest of the band congratulated her, Freddie marveling at her technique. Once the initial excitement was over, John pulled her aside. “Would you like to grab dinner? You must be starving after that performance.”

“I’d love to!” She nodded, smiling. “Just let me get changed.” She gave John one last smile before turning to go to her dressing room.

“Well, you’ve certainly hit it off with the star,” Brian laughed.

“Good on ya,” Roger clapped John on the back and John just rolled his eyes.

“You boys can go to the bar without me, I’ll meet you back at the hotel later,” John said as (Y/N) came out of her dressing room. He took her arm and nodded at the boys who were standing there with their mouths open.

[blightfics]

THE THIRD WHEEL CHAPTER 2: Her Voice

Previous Chapter: Color

Next Chapter: More Coming Soon!

Disclaimer:  This story is based from a lot of animes, such as Your Lie in April and Waiting in the Summer.

Author’s Note: If the “Keep reading” doesn’t work, go here for the full post. Since my brother’s drawing monitor is being borrowed by his friend, there won’t be any chapter artworks until some time around March. Italicized narration is told by one of the protagonists, Kyle Collins. And lastly, to pay respects to non-American sports fans, I’m going to call it “football”, not “soccer”.

Tags: @princessstellaris, @mechaspirit, @xo-endlessmayhem-xo, @i-miss-trr, @aquamarvel, @mysteli, @choicesyouplayandmore, @skyila, @brightpinkpeppercorn, @sceptilemasterr, @scgdoeswhat, @endlessly-searching-for-you

Recommended Music: Can You Forget? (YLIA)

On the Spring of 2018, something colorful came into my monotone life...

Vivian: I’m Vivian. And I am in love with your artworks!

How did it come to this...?

Lunch period, March 5, 2018; Kyle is seated by a cafeteria table. Sitting opposite him is Vivian, the redhead girl who suddenly came up to him and confessed her affection towards his artworks. The redhead girl joyfully wolfs down her lunch meal while the boy still hasn’t partaken on his meal. He is still left dumbfounded by his encounter with Vivian.

Our encounter occurred just a few meters from the art club room. Mr. Ross steps outside the room and spots me and the girl. He invited her in and she was introduced herself to us. Her name was Vivian Richards and she’s a transfer student, currently pursuing arts, specifically musical arts. I can tell right away why she was so enthralled by visual arts as well. Everyone likes my work but I’ve never met someone as joyful as her and instantly claiming that she loves my work. I was still frozen from the encounter as Mr. Ross and Vivian chatted about my artworks until the lunch bell rang. And now, we’re in this situation.

Kyle shakes his head and starts eating his lunch, while Vivian finishes hers and wipes her lips. She then smiles at the boy.

Vivian: So, what’s your next artwork going to be?

People kept asking me that question and I always say that I don’t have anything planned at the moment. But knowing this girl’s enthusiasm, she’ll just keep bugging me about it and I just can’t snap at her. So, for the first time, I gave up to that very question.

Kyle: Well... I am working a Spring-themed artwork of a couple...

Vivian squeals in silence. She tries to scream as happily but as quietly as possible.

Vivian: Aaahh! I can’t wait!

Kyle just smiles shyly. 

Recommended Music: Violence Over (YLiA)

Soon after, Karen and Sam approach the table. They did not notice Vivian yet as they are used to Kyle being alone at the cafeteria.

Karen: Hey, Kyle. What’s going o--

Karen freezes at the sight of the redhead girl. Sam walks up beside her and looks at her curiously.

Sam: What’s wrong, Ka--

Sam glances at Vivian and freezes as well. Kyle sighs.

Kyle: Guys, this is my new friend, Vivian.

Vivian waves at the two with a bright smile.

Vivian: Nice to meet you two.

Sam quickly sets down his meal on the table and drops to his knees. He raises his hands upwards and screams at the ceiling.

Sam: THERE IS A GOD!!

Kyle does a facepalm and Vivian just laughs shyly. Karen quickly sets down her meal and walks up to Kyle, grabbing her brother’s collar.

Karen: TELL. ME. EVERYTHING!!

Kyle: Alright! Chill!

Of course, they’d be curious and excited to know about my encounter with Vivian. They’ve been waiting for this very moment.

The couple sits with the two newly-acquainted friends and Kyle tells the entire story of his encounter with the redhead girl and what happened between them until lunch period. Karen and Sam let out a bright smile while Kyle gives them an annoyed look.

Karen: Well, look at that. My twin brother has his very own Number 1 Fan.

Kyle: Oh, shut it.

Karen and Sam offer their hands to Vivian.

Karen: I’m Kyle’s twin sister, Karen.

Vivian: I’ve known about you because of your book, Endless Summer. But still, nice to meet you!

Karen smiles at the compliment.

Sam: And I’m Sam, the twins’ childhood friend and Karen’s boyfriend. Also...

Vivian: Captain of the Skylia Dragons Football Team, I know.

Sam looks at Kyle with surprise

Sam: Damn, Kyle. You have one helluva friend here!

Kyle: Stop.

Karen suddenly remembers what happened in the Story & Film Club. 

Karen: Oh! I almost forgot.

She pulls out the poster that Elizabeth showed and gave to her.

Karen: Would you guys like to participate in this?

The group lay their eyes on the Film Festival poster. 

Karen: The club is planning on adapting Endless Summer into a film.

Sam winks at Karen.

Sam: I’ll join... only if you’ll be Emily and I’ll be your Jake McKenzie.

Karen blushes and laughs.

Karen: Oh, stop it, you. You know you have to go through auditions first.

Kyle chuckles.

Kyle: I don’t know, but the way he said it sounds like something Jake would say when he’s planning on joining a play with Emily.

Karen squints at Kyle.

Karen: Fine. Why don’t you join the casting auditions too?

Kyle: What?! NO!!

Karen shakes her head.

Karen: Nope, you can’t say “No”. You have drawn an artwork of my story and have read it. That means you have been involved in this film from the start.

Kyle: Ugh... fine...

Karen nods and turns to Vivian. Before the brunette could even say anything, the redhead quickly nods at her.

Vivian: No need to ask. I’m in!

Karen: Perfect! Auditions start later at 4:30 pm at the auditorium. Mr. Cameron has already informed the principal and has posted the announcement on the bulletin board.

Sam then jumps in to change the subject. He tells more about himself, Karen and Kyle to Vivian while they finish their lunch meals. Soon after, they finish lunch period and go on about their usual school business. 

Recommended Music: Lower School at Dusk (YLiA)

The clock strikes at 4:30 pm and Kyle is making his way to the auditorium.

I wasn’t really sure if I wanted to participate in the Film Festival. My mind is still messed up. What is wrong with me? I’ve never felt like this since I met Vivian. My heart’s beating fast and I don’t know why. But I should know why. I’ve witnessed this kind of feeling before but I just don’t know what it is.

Kyle enters the auditorium and from the stage, Karen spots him. She waves at her twin brother.

Karen: Kyle, over here!

Her company turns to the brunet boy and waves at him. This company includes Sam, Vivian, Elizabeth, Mark and Danny. Kyle walks up to the stage. Sam takes the time to introduce Danny to the group.

Sam: Oh, by the way, everyone. This is Danny, our new goalkeeper and Mark’s successor.

Danny is startled by the word, “successor”.

Danny: Well... I don’t know about being his successor yet...

Mark pats his junior’s back.

Mark: Don’t be unsure about it, Danny. I can already see it in you.

Danny smiles as he meets everyone else and shake their hands. Karen does the same introductions to Vivian. As everyone finishes meeting each other, Kyle asks about the auditions.

Kyle: So, what’s gonna happen first?

Karen: Well, for now, we’ll start the auditions for our favorite redhead heroine, Quinn Kelly.

Karen signals Mr. Cameron, from the seats, to begin. The literature teacher claps his hands.

Mr. Cameron: Alright, take your seats, people! Auditions are about to start! First up, auditions for Quinn Kelly.

After ten minutes of other students auditioning, Elizabeth comes up on stage, holding a script with Quinn’s lines. The black-haired girl attempts to portray the redheaded beauty in the story but was unable to because she was nervous, rather than spontaneous, on stage. Karen notices this and turns to Vivian.

Karen: Hey, Vi. Will you give Eli your script with Grace’s lines?

Vivian: Oh, of course.

Vivian runs up to Elizabeth and tells her of the situation. Elizabeth agrees and reads Grace’s lines. She nods and tries again. This time, thanks to her shy personality, she was able to portray the smart girl perfectly. Karen claps and gives her fellow club member a thumbs up. The others follow on the clapping and the audition continues. 

Recommended Music: You Exist in Spring (YLiA)

Karen again turns to Vivian.

Karen: Vivian, why don’t you try out for Quinn?

Vivian smiles shyly.

Vivian: No, I don’t think I can do her well.

Karen: Please?

Karen shows puppy eyes towards the redhead and the latter eventually groans and chuckles as she stands up. She gets onstage and reads Quinn’s lines. She channels the enthusiasm she had when she met Kyle and used it on her audition. Everyone was astounded by her performance, even Kyle. Soon, the entire auditorium did a standing ovation towards Vivian. They knew that she would be the perfect person to play as Quinn. The redhead girl’s green eyes light up as she skips merrily back to her seat. Kyle is left staring at Vivian throughout the entire audition.

She was... amazing. For a girl who is pursuing musical arts, who knew she could be talented in acting too. Or is it because of her enthusiasm earlier? That could’ve been it. It matches well with Quinn’s spontaneous personality that covers her sadness over her illness. I want to know more, about what makes her tick, and why, no matter how hard I close my eyes, her bright light pierces through my eyelids. I want to audition for Casey.

As the audition continues, many other flawless performances were made; Karen portrayed Emily, Sam portrayed Jake, Danny portrayed Diego, Mark portrayed Sean, and Ariya, captain of the Skylia Girl’s Volleyball team, portrayed Estela. However there was one character that no one seems to get right, Casey, the male protagonist. Mr. Cameron and Karen end up massaging their heads from stress. Meanwhile after Kyle reads the audition script, he stands up and turns to his sister and the teacher.

Kyle: Hey, umm... can I have a go?

Karen and Mr. Cameron look at Kyle with surprise.

Karen: Oh, sure!

Mr. Cameron: Go ahead, Kyle.

Kyle runs up to the stage and goes through the script again before doing the audition. 

Yeah. I know clearly well how Casey felt in this scene. The feeling of losing someone very close to your heart. I’ve read and loved his character arc, even before Endless Summer started to catch fire. He lost his friends and sacrificed his entire life to become the Endless in the first timeline, against his own twin sister’s objections. I regret turning down Karen’s offer of letting me join here earlier. No one seems to able to play Casey... that’s why I have to do it. Only I can understand and portray him.

Mr. Cameron signals him.

Mr. Cameron: Alright, audition for Casey from Endless Summer. Scene, the mourning of Quinn’s supposed death in Elyy’stel. Aaand..... ACTION!

Kyle quickly kneels down and starts to remember the incident that caused his parents’ death six months ago. Real tears start to fall from his eyes as he pretends that Quinn is either one of his dying parents. He is able to portray Casey so flawlessly that everyone thought that he was also a great actor. 

Recommended Music: My Lie (YLiA)

But only a few people know that Kyle wasn’t faking it; Karen, Sam and Mr. Cameron, because they know of his past. Vivian also manages to know that Kyle wasn’t faking his expressions. She can see it clearly on his face. Mr. Cameron stands up and approaches Kyle. He places a hand on the boy’s shoulder.

Mr. Cameron: That’s enough, Kyle. You got the part. Go sit with your sister and let out the rest of your emotions.

Kyle nods and hurries to Karen and Sam, who comforted him. Vivian looks at the brunet boy with concern, while Mark, Danny and Elizabeth notice that he was actually crying. Mr. Cameron checks his watch and notices that it is now 7:00 pm. He claps his hands to catch the attention of the students in the auditorium.

Mr. Cameron: Alright, that is it for the main cast auditions. I will post in the bulletin board tomorrow who will play who. Dismissed.

Most of the students leave the auditorium with only a few people still inside. Karen, Sam and Mr. Cameron comfort Kyle while Vivian, Elizabeth, Mark and Danny watch from the side.

Mr. Cameron: Kyle? How are you now, my boy?

Kyle tries to wipe his tears but more kept coming.

Kyle: I’m... 

Suddenly, Vivian approaches him and lays his head on her chest while giving him a warm embrace. Everyone else are stunned by this.

Vivian: There, there. It’s okay to for you to be sad about what happened to you in the past. We all lose... something in our lives... but that doesn’t mean that we are truly lost. Everything always works out in the end, Kyle.

Kyle’s tears stop from falling from his eyes as he nods. Soon after, he was wiping his face and does one last sniff.

Kyle: Alright.... I’m okay now...

That was it. For the first time ever, I was able to say “I am okay.” with all of my heart. It was a hundred percent true and I mean every word of it. Karen and Sam smiled at me because they knew that I wasn’t lying this time. Vivian was truly something else.

Mr. Cameron gently ruffles Kyle’s hair before turning to the remaining students.

Mr. Cameron: Alright, everything is fine now. You should all go home. It’s late.

The remaining students nod and they leave the auditorium along with Mr. Cameron. Elizabeth placed a caring and reassuring hand on Kyle’s shoulder before leaving with sadness pasted on her face. Kyle tells Karen and Sam to go on ahead as he has to clean his face up first in the boys’ restroom. The two smile and nod at him and the boy smiled back, genuinely, and ran off.

A few minutes later, Kyle walks past the auditorium and notices that one of its doors are open. He takes a peek and sees that Vivian is standing by the stage, looking at the red curtains.

I allowed myself to stay longer not because I was curious about what Vivian was doing, but because... she was a completely different person at the time. Even from far away, I could hear her sing... I only heard a few lyrics but I can tell, she was singing Taylor Swift’s song, The Best Day. But she wasn’t singing it happily...

I can clearly tell from her voice, she was crying...

--- End of Chapter ---

[ao3bronte]

Be Naughty (save Santa the trip)! 11: Christmas Tree

Also on Ao3

Day 10 << Day 11 >> Day 12

Hey Masquerade fans! (Masqueraders?) If you were also personally victimized by how I left the final chapter (it was a doozy of a cliffhanger), then this might just give you a little closure. If you never read my 80,000+ word porn with plot Smutember fic or have no intention of falling down that rabbit hole, scroll down to the asterix half way through the story (that’s where the smut begins).

11. Christmas Tree

“Welcome, citizens of Paris, to the annual Christmas Tree Lighting Celebration!”

Ladybug smiles and waves from the stage as Mayor Bourgeois raises his arms with a jovial greeting from behind the podium, addressing the crowd with a booming laugh, “It is my pleasure to announce our special guests for the evening! These members of our incredible, resilient city have been working tirelessly to ensure that we are safe, happy and taken care of this holiday season!”

There’s another thunderous standing ovation as Mayor Bourgeois sweeps his arms around him, gesturing to the line of civil servants, philanthropists and local celebrities that line the platform, “First of all, we welcome our Chief of Police Philippe Loi and Emmanuelle Levac of the Parisian Council for Refugees…”

Mayor Bourgeois continues to ramble off a veritable list of notable names, each gathering an enthusiastic smattering of applause from the enormous crowd there to witness the annual ceremony. Ladybug tries to stay focused on the proceedings but the spotlights are blinding and the man that stands a few metres away even more so.

“...Jean Tremblay of Love in A Box charitable organisation for underprivileged children, Adrien Agreste of the Hospital for Sick Children…”

She tries to keep her grin from splitting her face in half, she really does but god, it is hard when she turns his way and he actually has an honest to goodness smile on his face.

“...and finally, our most honoured guest and the saviour of the greatest city in the entire world, Ladybug!”

Ladybug steps forwards and waves, the light of the flashbulbs shining in her eyes. She’s long used to it after all this time in the spotlight, having been to hundreds of these festivals and galas over the years, and while most of the cameras seem to be fixated on her, many of them quickly turn back to the familiar face of a teenager who had graced many a newscast and tabloid in the past six months, his gentle smile brightening his perfect features.

The celebration continues with a few more speeches from the honoured guests and finally, finally it’s time for what she was asked here to do. Unholstering her yoyo, Ladybug takes the huge star in one hand and launches herself up into the air with the other, circling the tree in spectacular fashion so as to give everyone the opportunity to take a photo. Sweeping upwards, she lands on the uppermost branches and paces the star on the very top of the tree, plugging in the ornament and closing the circuit, illuminating the entire 30 metre Christmas tree from top to bottom.

The crowd erupts into cheers and the festivities officially begin as the band begins to play and the choirs begin to carol. The shops lining the streets have stayed open late and street vendors from around the city offer warm cocoa and other holiday treats, beckoning Christmas revellers towards their stalls and stores. Ladybug watches from above for a few minutes and takes in the beautiful scene, the smiling faces and laughing children milling about, frolicking with one another. It’s about as picturesque as it can get after what had been the most turbulent six months of her life, and she’s glad that she’s finally able to see the lights at the end of the tunnel.

She spots him trying to make a clean exit from the platform towards the closed off section below but the media have already got their sights on him and begin their predictably consistent pursuit. She forces herself to let him fend for himself for a few moments, knowing full well that he’s more than capable of dealing with their questions on his own but she slips through the branches to get a closer look regardless in case he needs a distraction.

“M. Agreste! Do you have a moment?”

“M. Agreste was my father,” Adrien replies flatly, “As I’ve mentioned a million times before Mme. Chamack, you can call me Adrien.”

Fresh from the arrest and subsequent investigation into his father, Adrien had more or less thrown himself into his philanthropic endeavours for a number of reasons, many of which revolved around the fact that his father was a full-blown domestic terrorist and Adrien had to distance himself from Gabriel as far as possible. Hence the pomp and circumstance, the ceremony and fuss, and ultimately the need for his presence at the heavily televised tree lighting ceremony to kick off the holiday season.

Not that he was complaining too much; any opportunity to his Lady nowadays was an opportunity he couldn’t afford to miss, even if it meant having to face the media.

“This is the first holiday season you’ve had to face without your family. How are you faring?”

Ladybug expects his shoulders to tense and finds herself pleasantly surprised when Adrien doesn’t seem to react at all, “I’ve found myself an entirely new family of people who support me. Now, I don’t suppose you have any questions regarding the Holiday Toy Drive that Chat Noir and I have organised for next Thursday?”

There’s a distinct lack of response to his question and Ladybug can’t help but snort at the snark in his voice, ultimately revealing her position in the tree above his head. Caught, she sheepishly drops down onto the platform beside him and shrugs her shoulders, ignoring the cross sidelong glare he’s throwing her way.

“Sorry about that,” she mutters under her breath before turning towards the throng of newscasters and photographers, “I heard my partner’s name and I just had to drop by!”

This isn’t the first time Ladybug has mysteriously appeared to interrupt Adrien’s various interviews since the news broke that his father was accused of being Le Papillon . In fact, Nadja Chamack is fairly sure this is at least the one hundredth time the spotted superhero has impeded her efforts on getting the perfect scoop.

“That’s because I was telling all of these lovely reporters that Chat Noir and I are hosting a Holiday Toy Drive at the hospital next Thursday,” Adrien responds, his irritation at her constant mothering only barely audible in his tone of voice. Ladybug knows she’ll have to make it up to him later, having already been lectured repeatedly about how he can handle himself, but she just can’t help it. It's no secret how protective she's become over her partner, how protective she's always been; putting a tamper on her feelings had only led to...well, that's a story best left to the past.

(Or a sequel.)

“Sorry Chat couldn’t be here by the way,” Ladybug remarks without missing a beat, gently wrapping her arm around Adrien’s shoulder, “He wouldn’t have missed this for the world, but you know how he is. Last I heard, he was attending the fundraiser for the cardiac care unit at l’ Hôpital Necker tonight.”

“That’s right! So, unless you have any questions about the Toy Drive, I’ll be heading off to the fundraiser myself,” Adrien tips his head to the side knowingly, basking in their momentary silence, “Well, that settles it. Ladybug, could I ask you a favour? Uber prices are probably surging, and I was wondering if you would be able to give me a lift?”

Ladybug grins, “Of course. Chat is probably looking for you as we speak! Hold on!”

With a swoop and a wave, Ladybug wraps her arm around his waist and tosses her yoyo into the sky, launching them both into the air at breakneck speeds. Adrien grabs onto her shoulders for dear life, heedless to the way his stomach seems to have dropped out of his body and whoops as he soars up into the street tops of Paris, away from the prying eyes of the media and cityfolk alike.

“You know,” he grumbles, his tone contradicting the windswept look of elation in his eyes as she sets him down, “You don’t need to babysit me every time I have an interview.”

“I wasn’t,” Ladybug replies and she’s only partially lying, “I just so happened to be up there when you tried to make a break for it.”

Adrien crosses his arms and peers idly from the rooftop they’d landed on across the square, “Eavesdropping, you mean?”

“Me? Eavesdrop?” Ladybug puts on an act, pressing a hand to her chest as if highly affronted, “I would never .”

“Yes you would,” Adrien responds, leaning against the wrought iron railings of the patio, “So how about you make it up to me?”

Ladybug raises a brow, “Make it up to you? How do you suppose I do that?”

“Oh, I have a few ideas in mind,” Adrien smirks, traipsing towards her, “And all of them have to do with the fact that I haven’t seen you in a week.”

“It’s the end of the semester,” Ladybug replies sheepishly, scratching at the hairs at the back of her neck, “I’ve been designing a spring line and it’s been taking me forever to get the tailoring right and I mmpff !”

*He pulls her into his chest and kisses her desperately, messy and rough and Marinette hesitates only for a moment before kissing him back with fervour, relishing in his pent up frustrations. Life had gotten in the way of many things, but she’d always find time for him, always find time for this, whether it be in a bed or on a rooftop, just like old times.

Emboldened, Ladybug breaks away and crouches down in front of him, quickly divesting him of his favourite leather belt so as to unbutton the clip of his trousers with ease. She pulls down the zipper and shoves the waistband past his hips and knees, pushing his cashmere sweater upwards so she can lick patterns onto the sensitive skin of his abdomen, pressing kisses to the hollows of his hip bones. She chances a glance upwards and revels in the way his eyes shine in the ambient light of the Christmas tree across the way, his pupils blown wide with sudden arousal and Ladybug settles in, happy to sit for the long haul.

“Marinette,” he growls, and Ladybug savours the low purr of Adrien’s voice in its deeper register, rough with need and desperation and something else she can’t quite put her finger on. He buries his fingers into her pigtails as she continues laving her tongue along the dip above his thigh with affection, nipping and licking the pale, delicate skin she finds there. He lets out a sharp hiss as her teeth scrape further downwards, just barely grazing past the meticulously groomed curls there.

She nuzzles up against him, running the tips of her fingers up and down his sides and Adrien swallows thickly, shuddering with anticipation. She presses her lips against the pulse point at the jut of his hip and hooks her gloved fingers around the waistband of his briefs, pushing them down, his cock jutting earnestly against his abdomen. Ladybug runs her hands up and down his thighs until he feels goose pimples, her fingertips caressing faint patterns against his skin and the way he says her name, wrecked and frantic spurns her onwards, his length gently brushing her cheek.

“Please…” he begs, and Ladybug doesn’t need much more motivation than that. She looks up at him, slack-jawed and gorgeously flushed, and licks him root to tip.

Adrien writhes.

Ladybug reaches upwards and grasps the root of his cock, taking the head in her mouth and dragging her fingers up and down his shaft. She pulls away and licks her lips as she presses a chaste kiss to the head, content to watch him shudder and bury his fingers in his hair, pulling the strands to keep himself from losing it right then and there. She does love a challenge and Ladybug starts twisting her wrist in time with her mouth, increasing the pressure just a little bit with every sloppy pass. She uses her free hand to stroke his thigh, her fingers trailing back up towards his hip bones and back down again over and over, a gentle counterpoint to the way she hums against his shaft, ruthless in her rhythm and Adrien throws his head back, crying her name like a prayer.

There are bright pops of colour behind his eyelids that are most certainly not those of the Christmas lights and Adrien holds onto the railing behind him, utterly disarmed, shuddering with pleasure. Ladybug groans around his cock, her clit throbbing relentlessly against her suit and she’s burning with need, the desire to mark him with her fingertips, the need to press bruises into his thighs overwhelming. She wants him to remember this tomorrow morning when he wakes up, she wants him to shatter into her touch and she wants to swallow every moan and cry, bobbing her head and sucking harder and —

“Marinette,” Adrien chokes out, half sobbing into his palm, “ Please— ”

He gasps out loud, broken and wanton and Ladybug grasps his hips, holding him steady as he comes in hot spurts against her tongue. She sucks him through it, indulging in the way he cries out incoherently, ragged and breathless and falling to pieces on a rooftop in Paris, completely and utterly hers. She lets him go and sits back on her heels, stretching her jaw as he keeps his eyes screwed shut, flushed and spent and quivering against the sensation of the night.

Masquerade’s Sequel — Cumming 2018

[telltheworld-phff]

Chapter 25: Graduation night

June 24th, 2017

She couldn’t believe it.

She breathed in and out in total awe. She was actually here. After almost going crazy and countless sleepless nights, she was finally graduating. All her four years of dedication brought her here, to this night. She was thankful and emotional and already missing her classmates and some of her teachers. She was getting ready and she couldn’t wait to wear her robe and cap. They’d be her new trophy just like her new earned degree. She was nervous, she was excited and she was happy. So fucking happy that no one would ruin her day. Hailey had gifted her a day-spa and she spent all day being pampered and dotted on. She had her nails done, her hair, make up and the ladies helped her to put on her dress. She had chosen a brown sequined dress, with a thin straps, a sheath cut, a bare back and a medium cleavage. She styled her hair like a movie star from the 1920’s.

She was waiting for Flavio and Maria to go pick her up and take her to the graduation ceremony. She was fidgeting in her place when they arrived and her mom instantly started crying when she saw her in that dress and ready to go.

“Você está tão linda, vida!” she said hugging her daughter and minding her hair. “Estou tão orgulhosa de você, meu amor.” she said drying Carol’s tears. [You look so beautiful, vida. - I’m so proud of you, my love.]

“Mãe! Você já está me fazendo chorar!” Carol said cleaning her face with a tissue. [Mom, you’re already making me cry!]

“Eu não posso fazer nada se meu bebê está se formando hoje!” Maria said opening her bag and taking a small package from inside. [I can’t help it, my baby is graduating today!]

Carol looked at the package and then at her mom. Maria gave it to her and waited for her to open it. Inside there was a beautiful pair of earrings that were intertwined between themselves and that would compliment her dress. She soon changed from the ones she was currently wearing and asked if they could go. She wanted to say Hello to her guests before the ceremony started.

Flavio was looking like a proud father and also teared up a bit when he saw her. They hugged and she thanked him for everything. She knew he helped her mom to pay her last semester at school, she knew he was helping them financially but nothing would mean more to her than his everyday presence in her life. He took his time to get to know her, he’d always ask for a date and it could be a dinner or simply going to the nearest bakery to buy them something for breakfast. He was by her side when she needed him the most, he took care of them, he loved them and Carol was so grateful for him in her life that she sometimes forgot he wasn’t her real father. She had invited him to the ceremony, but he was pretty clear he wasn’t going to attend. Her relationship with her father was a sour one and she didn’t know if she had the courage to try to make it better.

They got into the car and Carol admired the city lights. It was almost evening and she wanted to get there soon. She wanted to see her sister, she wanted to see her best friends and she wanted to see her friends that had flown over to watch her become officially a journalist.

Flavio parked his car and opened the door to his girls, he linked arms with both of them and minding their heels, walked slowly and carefully to the venue’s entrance. It was looking like a movie red carpet, with flowers, an actual red carpet and lots of photographers. Carol got her phone to see if her guests had arrived and groaned when the first call went straight to voice mail.

They decided to go inside first, so Carol could take her portraits with calm and while her make up was still intact. She knew she’d cry her eyes out and she knew she’d dance the night away. Flavio and Maria were half hugging each other and watching their girl smile to the camera. She was stunning and happy.

Hailey soon arrived and screamed with joy when she saw them. She hugged Maria and then her father and was eager to hug her sister. She was so fucking happy for Carol and she was enjoying the fact she had a big sis now.

“You’re stunning. And congratulations!” she said hugging Carol again. The brunette soon asked the photographer to take a family photo. The picture would be a favorite for all of them. After 10 minutes and with lots of photos later, they looked for their seats. Carol had asked to have her family seat as close to the stage as possible. She chatted with them but her eyes were always searching the room. She wanted to see a person in there and was getting frustrated that he hadn’t arrived yet. Her hopes to see him before the ceremony started was going low, because one of her teachers asked the graduating students to go get ready backstage.

She saw when Julia arrived and made her friend promise to not let her forget to take a picture with her. Julia had tears in her eyes and she and Hailey promised to scream their lungs off when her name was announced. Carol only smiled before one classmate called for her. It was about to start and she had to go.

She dressed her robe and adjusted the cap on her head a couple of times. She looked in the mirror and smiled. She made it. She had fucking made it through college and she was about to become a journalist.

The students were lined up and they heard the ceremony starting. The dean of the college started the celebration and announced the classes that would be graduating today. He started calling the students to seat on the stage and in a line they started to fill up the space. After everyone were positioned, the national anthem started playing. Carol sang it while trying to see her family in the middle of the crowd. But she couldn’t spot them.

She heard when her name was called. They had voted and she was this year Valedictorian and she had never given a public speech. She had left it a secret to her family, but although she couldn’t spot them in the crowd, she surely heard when they cheered. She got up and walked to the microphone, someone adjusted it to her height and she took a deep breath before opening the paper with her speech. She already knew it by heart, but she was afraid of forgetting it.

“Your excellencies, ladies and gentlemen, good evening.

I believe if there’s a will, there’s a way.

When I first heard this statement, given by Crown Princess Victoria of Sweden for a Nobel Laureates Symposium in Stockholm in 2011, I was surprised by the truth of it. Tonight we’re all gathered here because of each individual will. We all graduating tonight have dreamed about something and we’re on our path to achieve and make that dream a reality. We’re here mostly by the power of our will. I believe that most of us thought about quitting at some point.”

She heard her classmates agree behind her and she smiled.

“Sometimes we were full of essays to write, exams to study for, finals that took our sanity away and sometimes the unavoidable low points and grades discouraged us. But I also believe that when we were about to give up, a little flick of hope started burning again within our hearts. I also like to think that when it got to the darkest part, was because we were about to see the light. Those four years weren’t easy. It wasn’t a walk in the park, but I assume my colleagues and I have grown up so much. We faced challenges, we faced deadlines, we faced mostly the heartache of knowing that everything we believed as a solid truth could be deconstructed and rebuilt. We have learned a lot, but not only what’s essential to our chosen careers, we have learned a lot about management, about listening and understanding the other’s needs and sometimes even putting it over our own. We learned what team work is really like, we learned how difficult this path can be but how joyful it is at the same time. Our power of will have brought us to our way and I’m going all cliche now, but I am already missing classes.”

Some people agreed and others simply groaned.

“I am already missing the amazing moments I have spent inside campus, the amazing people that I have met and I wish us all a great and inspiring and epic journey in our careers. I hope we stay this joyful and determined people, fighting for good and fighting even when the odds tends to make us believe there’s no way anymore. I hope tonight will be in our memories forever, because this is our way. This is what we have chosen for ourselves. It’s a bittersweet moment, but it is so great to be here. We’re being honored for our accomplishments and we can finally say we have graduated.”

The students cheered loudly behind her.

“But on the good side of it… no more crazy deadlines and killing exams for us. Teachers, you guys have clearly outdone yourselves with those last ones, but we survived. I hope we’ve made you proud, because I know that we are proud of saying we’re part of this college. Thank you for encouraging us, thank you for inspiring us and thank you for teaching us way more than just history and technics. We’ll be forever grateful for your shared knowledge. To our families, thank you for dreaming this dream with us, we’re sorry for all the missed parties, for all the sleepless nights and all the crazy swinging moods. Your support meant a lot to us, it helped our will to find a way.”

She teared a bit and looked at her classmates.

“Thank you guys for those amazing parties and for the togetherness. We were really a team and I hope you guys have the best of luck anywhere you go. But most of all, I wish you all follow your heart and be happy. So extremely happy. And I’m sorry other classes, but I have to nod to my own major and please, don’t forget that our motto is always: “Journalism is above everything, the daily exercise of intelligence and character.””

Her class cheered over their motto and clapped hands.

“Happy graduation day! Thank you”

Carol was moved to tears when the crowd started to get up and clap. She was getting a standing ovation and her colleagues came to the front of the stage to hug her. She had pretty much translated their feelings in those words and she was liked by every single one of them. A couple of teachers also got up to hug her and she was back in her place to watch the ceremony.

The dean and a few teachers started calling their names. It took forever to get to her class and to her name, but when it did, her legs were weak and her heart was pounding fast. She got up and took a few shyly steps before she heard her name being called from the crowd. She spotted her mom (because she had gotten up) and crying she walked her path to receive her degree and a merit honor for she had been the best journalism student of that year. She thanked the dean, the teacher and was back in her place. She had a tissue in her hand, but it wasn’t enough to clear her tears. She was smiling and crying.

“And now I pronounce you, class of 2017 officially graduated.”

They all cheered and threw their caps in to the air. Carol would never forget that image when hundreds of caps were in the air, together with the emotional music and feeling of accomplishment. They hugged and sang the last song of the night in a coral.

(…)

Carol was hugged by everyone when she got back to where they were. Her mom was the first to hug her, she was proud of her daughter and she was so incredibly happy to see her graduating. Maria hadn’t had the chance to graduate herself, but to see Carol doing it with honors filled her heart of joy and happiness.

After her mom let go of her, it was time to talk with her best friend and sister.

“I knew you’d do it, bitch!” Julia said hugging her.

Flavio was next and he was also crying. He embraced her with such love and care that her already flowing tears became new ones. He caressed her back before letting her go. 

She looked after him and saw her friends in there Skippy shouted: “What a hot journalist we have here! woohoo” when he saw her. She hugged her friend, trying to stop him to keep shouting embarrassing things and then she gently pushed him out of the way because Lara was excitedly jumping behind him.

“Congratulations, Carol” she said looking at her. “You look stunning!”

“Thank you!” she said looking at her friend. “I missed you so much!”

And when she was out of Lara’s hug, she looked behind her to see the very well known smirk and deep blue eyes. Her heart was already beating so fast she thought one could hear it pounding in her chest when they spotted each other. Lara was out of their way, because she could feel the strings pulling them together, and they approached each other.

Harry opened his arms and hugged her tight and breathed her in. They both closed their eyes and enjoyed being this close again. She had missed being in his arms and he had missed holding her. He whispered a few things in her ears and she cried even more. She had missed him a lot and it meant the world to her that he had made time to come a see her graduate.

“I’m glad you’re here.” she said softly stuttering.

“I wouldn’t miss it.” he answered grabbing his handkerchief and drying her tears while caressing her face. “You look so beautiful,my darling. I’m so proud of you.” he whispered.

“Thank you!” she said hugging him again and closing her eyes. 

(…)

After the ceremony ended, they were led to another part of the venue. Where the tables were set. They’d have dinner before the dancing started. Thankfully all of them would be seating together. Harry sat beside Carol only after being dotted up by Maria. She was trying to communicate with him and he couldn’t help but smile and say that he had missed her too. When the first glasses of champagne were served, Flavio proposed a toast in Carol’s honor. Harry was holding her hand under the table and smiling at her.

“Talk about a emotional night, huh?” he started holding his glass. “I’d like to thank you all for being here for Carol on this night that is one of the best nights ever. To see someone like her, that fought all odds to be on that stage tonight, receive her degree with honors is something we need to celebrate. I’d like you to know, Carol, that your mom and I are very, very proud of you and we can surely say that the world is at your feet. You can achieve anything you set your mind into. And we’ll be here to help you get there. Congratulations!”

They all raised their glasses and drank the first sip. Carol asked them to take pictures with her and walked to the nearest photo station. She took her turn to take pictures with everyone and them with each of them individually.

She thought they’d go back to the table when it was Harry’s time, because she had left him to be the last one. But no, they all watched while they posed and how admiringly he was looking at her and how her smile was reaching her eyes whenever she looked at him.

“They’ll be dating by the end of the year.” Julia whispered to Hailey, but Skippy and Lara overheard.

“I don’t think they will by the end of the year. But next year for sure.” Lara answered.

“So do we bet?” asked Skippy.

“We do. Who thinks they’ll be together in the next six months?” Hailey asked.

Julia and Skippy raised their hands.

“Who thinks they’ll be together after those six months and within a year?”, she and Lara raised their hands.

“What about 50 pounds each?” Lara asked already knowing she’d make an easy money.

“Deal!”

“Hailey, I can’t believe you’re betting on your sister’s love life.” Flavio scolded her when he heard them talking.

“Dad… I’m not betting to lose. They have this magnet thing that is always bringing them together. You’ll see...”

(…)

Their dinner was fun. Hailey, Carol, Flavio and Julia took their time to translate the conversation so Maria could participate, as well the others when they shifted back to Portuguese. They were one of the louder tables around the venue and they wall were drinking freely. Harry was looking at Carol every now and then and he even put his arm on her chair’s back rest during the middle of the conversation. He was rubbing circles in her back without noticing he was doing it and she was leaning into his touch, and their guests were sharing amused smirks around.

When it was time to the first waltz of the night, Carol didn’t get up. The first one it’s usually danced with father and daughter, but since her father hadn’t shown up, she’d have to miss the first one. Flavio got up and adjusted his suit and tie and stretched his hand for her, she looked at it and then at him and he simply nodded and smiled. She got up and they walked to the dance floor. She received a rose button and they positioned themselves to dance. When the first strings started to play, he guided her on the dance floor. They didn’t chat, they simply looked at each other and she could see in that moment that he truly didn’t have any distinctions between her and Hailey. He was a proud father of two. He was there for her, when her own father wouldn’t be. He had treated her better in those 10 months, than her own father had treated her in 23 years. When the first waltz ended, she didn’t have time to thank him, for Harry was standing beside them and asking her hand for him. He was truly behaving like a prince in there. And that was the first time that she saw him like Prince Harry and not just Harry. He had pomp and manners and an impeccable posture. He guided her on the dance floor like a professional dancer he had been raised to be.. 

He was making her feel like a princess tonight.

(…)

The band hired for the party soon was changed to a DJ. He started with some dance music before shifting to Brazilian’s rhythms. Flavio and Maria were the first ones to get up to dance to forró. The group stayed behind to watch them dancing and it was a sweet moment between them. Carol had never seen her mom that happy in her life.

She got up and Harry followed, he already (kind of) knew how to dance to this, so he was soon dancing with her. Sometimes he’d brush his beard on her shoulder and she’d sigh. He was the last man she had slept with and even though they’d sometimes do a sexy Skype Call, nothing would beat the real feeling of being with him.

She saw that Julia had hooked Hailey with someone before she herself found a partner to dance.  Lara and Skippy were trying to copy their steps on the dance floor.

“Thank you for coming tonight, Harry. I know you have lots of engagements.” she said softly.

“You don’t have to thank me. I wanted to be here, so I adjusted a few dates. Easy peasy” he shrugged.

He had, in fact, over worked himself with embargoed visits, lots of meetings and a few cancellations to be able to be there. But she didn’t need to know that he had driven his secretary and his father crazy over the fact he demanded a full week free by the end of one of the most full months for the Royal Family.

(…)

“You totally have to teach me how to do this!!!” Hailey said after watching Carol and Julia doing the “quadradinho”.

“Carol stole the show in Rio dancing funk…” Lara commented and looked at Harry. He simply drank from his glass and shook his head.

The brunette simply brought her friend to her side and tried to explain to her what she was about to do.

“Simply you lean, have your legs semi opened, hands on your knees and you move your hips to right, front, left and back. And following the beat of the music.” Carol said teaching Lara. It took her a two songs to really grasp the concept of it and after that, she was doing it like it was the easiest thing in the world. Maria joined them and all the girls where having the time of their lives dancing funk.

(…)

Carol and Lara had gone to the bathroom to retouch their make up and catch up.

“You are already dancing like a pro!” Carol commented reapplying her lipstick.

“You think so?” Lara furrowed her brows.

“I do!” Carol answered before adjusting her dress. “God, I’m already drunk, Lara.”

“You are, now?” Lara was laughing at her friend.

“I am. And so are you.” she said looking at her friend and leaning on the sink.

“No, I’m not.” Lara simply said retouching her mascara.

“Of course you are. I’m getting drinks to us all the time.” Carol said.

“Well… I’m not drinking them.” she looked at her friend.

“You’re not? Are you messing with me, Lara?”

“No, Carol. I’m not messing with you. I’m not drinking tonight.”

“But I saw you drinking champagne.” Carol was trying to think straight.

“I took a sip.” Lara said putting her things inside her bag again.

“Why aren’t you drinking? We’re celebrating tonight! I’m a journalist now. Did I tell you I’m a journalist now?” Carol said half hugging her friend.

“You did tell me, yeah.” Lara laughed and helped Carol to drink some water.

“Thanks. Water. I gotta start drinkin’ water.” the brunette mumbled. “But why aren’t you drinking, Lara?”

“Well… Because I received a little surprise while we were in Rio, and for the next seven months, alcohol is a no-no for me.” she smiled and watched the realization come to Carol’s senses.

“OH MY GOD! OH MY GOD!” she was hugging Lara and looking at her and hugging her again. “You’re pregnant. Oh my God. I can’t believe it!”

“Yes, I am!”

“Does Skippy know? When are you due? Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“He does know. We took the test together actually. I’m due in mid January and I didn’t want to spoil your night. You’re the only one but me and Skippy who knows, so you have to keep it a secret, ok?”

“Ok. But oh my God, you’re going to have a baby!”

“Exciting isn’t it?”

They smiled together and after Carol was a bit more sober they left the bathroom and went back to the dance floor.

(…)

“I want to ask you something.” Harry whispered in her ear when they were dancing a slow song by the end of the party. The sun was about to rise and they could see it from the big windows in the venue, the place was still pretty much crowded and Carol was already sober again because Lara was giving them all lots of water to drink. She had her arms around his neck and she moved her head, that was resting on his shoulder, so she could look at him.

“Yeah?” she whispered back.

“Come sleep with me.” he said.

“Henry...” she was surprised by his request, they had talked about their relationship countless times and she didn’t think it was the right thing to do. Even though her body was already screaming for his.

“Carol… You have no idea how much I miss you. How much I miss your body. Sleep with me tonight, because I know that deep down you want it too.” he said and kissed the spot behind her ear and gently nibbled on it.

She moaned and closed her eyes. She wanted it, but she didn’t know if she should do it.

“Please.” he pleaded and his hands were running on her bare back. “I had to put up with you on this dress for the whole night and right now everything I can think of is taking you out of it.” she could hear the lust in his voice and her mouth went dry. They were still dancing and moving slowly, their friends and her parents were close by but she didn’t notice anyone around them. It scared her how easy it was for them to be inside their own bubble whenever they were close.

“We’re just friends, Henry.” she whispered.

“I know. We already agreed on that. But that doesn’t mean we can’t sleep together when we’re both single.” he was gently rubbing his beard on her neck and he felt when goosebumps formed in her skin.

“Ok.” she answered and bit her lip.

“Ok?” he looked at her and tilted his head.

She coyly smiled at him.

They decided to leave by 6 am. They were all tired and Maria had promised to make them dinner the next night.

“Maria!” Harry called when Carol was getting her things to leave.

“Yes, Harry?” she asked already half hugging him.

“Carol pode comigo pro hotel?” he tried his best to pronounce the way the google translator had said. [Carol can with me to hotel?]

Maria smiled and looked over her shoulder to see her daughter. She knew something had happened between them, even though Carol swore nothing happened. But as a mom, her radar was always working and she simply nodded. She thought it was cute of him to try to learn how to ask her permission in another language, even though it wasn’t the best structured sentence or the fact that he didn’t have to have her permission to take her daughter anywhere, but that he was willingly asking for it.

(…)

Carol slept half the ride. She didn’t know where Harry was staying and they had put up a show to trick Julia, Lara and Skippy to where she was going. The only ones that for sure would know that Carol would spend the night with Harry would be her family.

“Darling, wake up. We’re here.” Harry whispered gently to wake her up. She was wearing his suit and she smiled when the driver he had hired parked in front of a building. She was out of the car and he soon put a hand on her back to guide her. She walked past a fountain when it hit her where she was.

“Are you kidding me?” she said looking at him.

“Of course not. Why would I?” he smirked nonchalantly.

“The Intercontinental, Harry? Really?”

“We’ve come full circle, baby.” he laughed at her.

“Are you staying here?” she asked.

“Nope. Just booked it for the day.” he answered her and they entered the well known elevator.

“So you planned this all along?” she looked at him suspiciously.

“I didn’t plan on it, I was just planning on you saying yes. And you did.” he said snaking his arms around her waist.

“Sneaky.” she stuck her tongue at him. “And we’re going to the penthouse?”

“Of course. Only the best for the most beautiful journalist of the world.” he said and they both laughed.

When they entered the room that once was their headquarters she couldn’t help but be a bit nostalgic. It was arranged differently from before, it now looked like a living room and the doors to what once held offices, were probably the bedrooms of the suite. She took of her heels and went to the window to watch the view. She remembered chatting with him at this same corner last year and now she was here again.

She felt when he hugged her from behind and knew that he was probably remembering the same thing. She caressed his hands and closed her eyes. She could get used to this, to him. If only she’d let go of her fears. If only she’d get brave enough to fight for them...

After some time he started kissing her neck. He traced paths with his mouth and kissed her. Slowly and steady. He knew that her neck was a soft spot and that she’d be in his arms with now time with it. His hands started to run across her body. He felt the curve of her breasts, the curve of her waist and hips, he felt the curve of her butt and they wandered to her thighs.

“I fucking missed you, Carolina.” he whispered in her ear before licking it and biting it.

She smiled when she heard that. She turned around in his arms and looked him in the eye. She cupped his chin and pecked his lips biting softly on it.

“What are you going to do about it, then?” she defied him.

-----M-----

He dirty smirked and looked at her. That’s the fire he loved about her, how she’d go from shy to sexy in a blink. He looked at her and while she was still holding his chin he helped her out of his suit. He then took her to the master bedroom and saw that there were the wine and roses he had asked for. He looked for the zipper of her dress and found it on her side. He took it from her body and swallowed loudly. She was with no bra and very small panties. Her body was fantastic and he could feel himself harden inside his pants already. He just grabbed her ass and crashed his mouth on hers. He started slowly and teasingly until his tongue met hers and they started a sensual dance. He was claiming her lips as his the same time his hands were running free through her body. They soon found her breasts and he started roll her nipples with his thumbs. He felt her gasp for air and smiled. He parted the kiss bit her lips.

He pushed her on the bed and she moved to be in the middle of it. He simply went to the table and served a glass of wine. He took a sip from it and looked at her. She was eager for his touch and she couldn’t believe he was drinking wine instead of being with her. He approached the bed again and offered her the glass of wine, she shook her head not wanting it and he offered again.

“I don’t want wine, Henry.” she said anxious.

“What do you want?” he asked her while his fingers wandered around her belly.

“I want you. NOW.” she demanded.

“Always so bossy.” he smirked. He set the glass on the nightstand and untied his tie. She then noticed it was his bunny tie, the same one he was wearing when they met. He played with it for a time before gently holding her wrists and kissing the inside of it. He didn’t ask for her permission when he started to tie her wrists together. She was surprised and a bit scared of it and her eyes were showing it. He tied both her hands and put it above her head, her body was now naturally more arched and her senses had sped up. She was in foreign territory.

“There’s no need to be afraid, darling.” he whispered against her mouth when his cold fingers ran down her sides. “I’m not hurting you. I just remembered that you said you had never been tied. And now you are.”

“Henry...” she panted and looked at him. It was a bit uncomfortable but she couldn’t deny she was excited to see what was next.

“I’m going to show something to you, Carolina. But you have to stay still, ok?” she couldn’t find her voice to speak, so she only nodded.

He got up and got a black satin blindfold that was behind the wine bottle. He kissed her lips again to try to calm her down and whispered “If it’s too much you only have to ask and I’ll stop” a couple of times. He blindfolded her and watched her on that bed. He undressed himself and noticed that she was waiting to see what he was going to do. He took a sip of the wine and gently was hovering over her body. He slowly let the wine fall down in the middle of her breasts and watched it ran freely to her belly. She was surprised because it was cold and because she wasn’t expecting him to do it. She gasped for air and goosebumps filled her skin. He slowly started to lick the wine from her body. His tongue was cold, but his breath was hot. It wandered slowly while his nails rubbed her sides. He kissed her belly and didn’t stop kissing it even when there wasn’t anymore wine left. She wanted to touch him and tried to make her hands find his body.

“Nah… I told you to stay still.” He held her hands and positioned them again. He was back kissing her mouth while his hands were cupping her breasts and his thumbs were circling around her nipples. She had to stop the kiss a couple of times to grasp for air. All the sensations where heightened because she couldn’t see or touch him. He kissed and bit her neck a couple of times before latching in one of her breasts and giving it a good suck. Her back arched and he smiled. He used his tongue to circle and lick and roll it, his teeth to brush on it and his mouth to suckle on it, while his hand paid attention to her other breast.

“Harry...” panted whispering. She had her mouth opened and her body was arched and she was enjoying all the attention she was receiving. He took his time and changed breasts a couple of times before kissing her inner thighs. He left a couple of love marks in there but couldn’t help it when her moans were inciting to make him do them. He hooked his fingers on each side of her panties and slowly took them off.

He almost came when he saw her glistening. Her labia was swollen and when he used a finger to open it, he felt she was wet. So fucking wet. And for him. His finger rubbed her a couple of time before entering her slowly.

“Fuck, Henry!” she whispered and tried to move her hands again. He soon held them into place and put another finger inside her. They were gently stroking her walls, feeling her, looking for her sweet spot and when they finally found it, Harry simply pushed and held. She wriggled below him and he blew around her clit before taking it into his mouth and gently suckling it. She moaned loudly and he continued. He brushed his teeth around her pearl while her fingers did their magic inside her. She writhed and had her back arched, she needed to touch him.

“Harry… Please.” she moaned when he sped up the pace of his mouth. There wasn’t nothing like the taste of her. He loved how sweet she tasted and he played. He wasn’t thinking about him, he was thinking about her. His boner was already hurting and he needed a relief soon. But he also wanted to see her come undone and hear her scream his name.

He soon switched him tongue with his fingers and while he used them to rub gentle circles on her clit, his tongue and mouth devoured her. He even gave her small bites and laughed when she started cursing. He opened her legs wider and closed his eyes. His breathing so close to her, the fact that she was tied and blindfolded helped Carol to come. Fast and hard. Harry didn’t stop exciting her. He helped her ride through her orgasm and licked her clean when she finished it. She was with thin streams of sweat around her body and panting. Her nipples were erect and wanting attention. He simply put his fingers on her mouth and she sucked having her own taste.

“Now you know how you should be treated.” he whispered in her ear. “I doubt anyone else will know this body as much as I do.”

“Cocky!” she answered but she was still panting. He took the only piece of clothing he still had, his boxers. He thought about pushing his luck a little bit and rubbed his head on her lips. When she tasted the saltiness of him. She simply nodded and opened her mouth. He knew she couldn’t fit all of him inside, but he helped her to find a pattern she was comfortable. She she sucked on his head. She rolled her tongue around him and her hot breath and her dirty laugh were creating a very difficult place to Harry to be in without coming. She wanted to hold him, she wanted to suck him properly and she actually pouted when he took it out of her mouth.

But if he took it out of her mouth, that means he’d put it somewhere else.

She heard when he ripped the condom package and kept her legs spread wide, he rubbed her clit again with his thumb and guided his head inside her. In one thrust he was inside her and her mouth shaped an O, with the moan stuck in her throat. He was inside her, throbbing. Hard and hot. He was stretching her, filling her. She was adjusting to his length inside her when she felt him sliding off, just to slide right in a couple of seconds later. One of his hands were holding hers above her head while the other where holding her leg. Harry started to thrust in and out and was guided by her moans of “harder” and “faster”. He was afraid he’d hurt her, but when she started to clench her walls around him he couldn’t think of anything else.

He was dirty talking right next to her ear and having that husky and lustful voice, with that amazing British accent were turning her on even more. She didn’t care she was at a hotel (to be honest, she barely remembered it), she was screaming his name and asking for more. She was asking him to make her, his.

“You feel so fucking good.” he whispered at some point while his hips were flexing to meet hers. He was taking her where no one ever did. He was showing her how beautiful and powerful she was. He was bringing the best that was within her and when their bodies were united like this, he knew he couldn’t find this level of fullness anywhere else. He stopped mid stroke only to change positions. He helped her to lay on her stomach, with her hands behind her back and grabbing her ass he was thrusting inside her again. She had her head tilted and her moans were a bit muffled. He even ran a finger around her butt, and if it was another time, that would kill her mood, but it only made her closer to the edge. He was using his tie to anchor his weight while his hips unforgiving met hers. He was sliding easily, not only because of the condom, but because she was wet. So fucking wet and hot and tight. Her body started to quiver and her moans were louder. He didn’t want to come before she did, but that was so damn hard when she looked this beautiful while being fucked by him. She felt her walls contract and she fell into the amazing bliss of orgasm. She writhed below him, she called for his name and she had never felt a orgasm that long and strong. He only made it until she had ridden out of her high before coming himself. He bit his lips and cursed. He smacked her ass when he finished and panting kissed her back while untying her. He gently took himself out of her and simply took of the condom, giving it a knot before throwing it on the floor. He helped her to turn and took off her blindfold. She made a funny face to adjust to light again and smiled at him. The kind of smile that only satisfied women post sexual bliss had. He cupped her face gently and pecked her lips before kissing her again.

-----M-----

“Wow...” she breathed after they parted and he gave her a cocky smile.

“Happy graduation day, darling.” He said.

“Thank you.” She got his tie and played with it. “This has become my new favorite tie of yours.”

“Noted.” he smiled and got a blanket for them he was tired and wanted to take a nap so badly.

She rested her head on his chest and he was caressing her back slowly while she did the same with his chest. Their breathing evened and lulled each other to sleep.

A/N: Very long chapter for you today!

This is my favorite sex scene of them. I loved to write it, I loved how sexy and hot it came out and I might have forever changed your views on the bunny tie. Because I know I won’t ever see it the same. 

Hahahahahahaha

Hope you guys like the chapter and hopefully I’ll be out of this shitty writer’s block I’m at to keep writing. But yeah... it’s annoying me to no end.

[naturepointstheway]

“Eclipsed Days in the Sun” (Beauty and the Beast (2017) oneshot)

Days had passed since the passing of the prince’s poor mother to the illness that claimed her--consumption, the doctors diagnosed. But no one had to be a doctor to recognise the red spots of coughed up blood on a handkerchief hailing the arrival of Death at her doorstep. Less than forty-eight hours later, she had passed away in her sleep. The prince had refused to leave her bedside, not until his father had grabbed him by the shoulders and steered him out of the room. He had not even been allowed even a final farewell during the funerary wake, his father “explaining” that the boy had spent long enough at her bedside post-mortem to say a proper goodbye to her. When the boy looked about to cry--Lumiere had been there at the time to see it--his father struck him across the face, sternly telling him that a man never should show such weakness. When Lumiere had interrupted to defend the boy prince, the father simply glowered at him.

“Quiet, old fool, you dare question how I raise the prince?”

Lumiere--who really wasn’t that old at all, merely in his twenties--squared his shoulders. “I offer advice that is all.”

“Then consider your “advice” dismissed. The prince is mine to raise alone, not yours or anyone else’s. He is a man, not a boy, and I alone will raise him.“ 

He is all but seven years old! Lumiere had protested in his head, but did not dare say aloud, lest he risk his career at the castle. He certainly wasn’t about to risk never seeing Plumette again.

He could only hope that somehow the boy would cling on to the good his mother had instilled in his heart, and he would still feel safe enough to come to the servants he had always trusted including himself, Mrs Potts, Chapeau, and of course, his cherished Plumette.

Nearly a year had passed since the death of the prince’s mother, and already Lumiere could see the changes in how the boy approached others, including himself. He was alarmed when he had overheard Mrs Potts murmuring to the other kitchen staff, her young forehead wrinkled with consternation, about how the boy never smiled or said “thank you” for a cup of tea anymore. As a matter of fact, sometimes she’d find the tea undisturbed, left to grow cold for hours before someone else cleared it away. The chief added in how the boy now demanded this or that and became increasingly inclined to complain about any little nitpick in the meal. Even Chapeau chimed in to say how the boy would just toss his cloak or whatever else at him and tell him to clean it up or put it away for him.

A shiver had gone up his spine--not one year had elapsed since his mother’s death, and now he already was changing for the worse under his father’s thumb.

There’s still hope, he convinced himself, Maybe he’ll come around soon enough.

It was an exceedingly rare time when his hopes could be trampled upon, but one particular evening happened to be one of those times. He had been talking with Plumette in the servant quarters when the young prince walked in, an uncharacteristically sombre look in his eyes as he went up to Lumiere, carrying something in his hands.

“Hello, Prince Adam,” Lumiere greeted him with his characteristic grin, “Come to join the conversation?”

He didn’t smile back, not even a twitch of his lips, simply holding out the three juggling balls Lumiere had gifted to him when the boy had turned four.

“Oh, you want me to juggle for you?” Lumiere put down his glass of wine and held out his hands, palms up.

But the boy dumped the blue, red, green, and yellow trio of juggling balls in the man’s hands.

“I don’t want to juggle anymore. It is for children.”

Lumiere, struck dumb for a second, quickly recovered himself and as lightly as possible, “It’s for everyone--look at me, a grown man and I still love juggling!”

“I do not care to juggle anymore.”

And with that, the boy spun on his heel and strode out of the room, leaving Lumiere to stare at the juggling balls, heart sinking in devastation. Only Plumette’s hand curling around his wrist, and her head leaning on his shoulder, eased at least an edge off his numb shock.

He’s gone now.

His hands convulsed, fingers clenching around the juggling balls in sudden anger.

“I hate his father,” he hissed between clenched teeth, “And we can do nothing.”

One of Plumette’s hands came up to rest against his cheek, providing some consolation.

“I know,” she whispered, “All we can do is pray, my love.”

“For his sake, I hope you’re right.”

Now, in the present day, nearly eight months since the curse was lifted, Lumiere found himself perched on the edge of his bed, an opened dusty trunk at his feet. He had been dragging out trunks everything--literally everything--he had kept over a lifetime of serving at the castle. Every year, without fail, Plumette would try to persuade him that he surely didn’t need all that stuff anymore, but Lumiere always kept everything “just in case”. He couldn’t remember a day he’d ever thrown anything away. Now “just in case” had arrived, Plumette with child. An hour ago, she had thrown on a cloak, informing Lumiere she was going on a walk with Belle to talk about something “important”, strongly hinting at it with a hand on her round belly.

Now here he was, staring at those three juggling balls again. They had been tucked in a corner of this trunk--one of the very last five to rummage through--and a split-second later, memories had come flooding back, of teaching the young boy juggling basics, how he had made a show out of a standing ovation the first time the young prince got something right, and the day he’d had them returned to him out of the blue.

Does he even remember anything about it now? he wondered.

A firm knock at the door jolted him out of his musings, standing up too quickly to stop himself tripping over the open trunk, sprawling over it, juggling balls going three separate ways. Standing up, he brushed himself off and strode to the door--a quick glance at a clock told him it was past eleven at night. Opening the door, he was pleasantly surprised to see the prince on the other side, two wine glasses in one hand and a wine bottle in the other.

“Oh, you’re still up?” Adam commented, “I was hoping to celebrate with you about Belle.”

I knew it!

“I know, Adam, congratulations!”

The prince’s mouth dropped open in surprise. “How...how did you know?”

A casual, off-hand shrug. “Plumette went off to have a “very important chat” with Belle. You might say I put two and two together.”

Adam looked over Lumiere’s shoulder, “Been sorting through your eight million trunks I see.”

Reminded again of what he had just found in the trunk, he looked away from the prince so he might not see any hint of sadness in his expression.

“Not quite eight million, my prince, but getting there.”

Prince Adam strode to a table next to a window overlooking the garden outside, wine glasses clinking as he set them down along with the full bottle of rich red wine.

“Care to come sit down?”

“After I tidy up,” Lumiere said quickly, now moving to dump everything into the trunk. 

Behind him, Adam laughed. “Or dump everything in the suitcase.”

“I don’t have time to waste folding and tucking everything in neatly thank you.”

“Mrs Potts--”

“Would be appalled, yes, I know.”

He knew Mrs Potts had long ago given up on chastising him about his wrinkled clothes when ironing them. Bless her, she’d tried at first, but soon realised it was futile to try and “fix” his less than tidy treatment of putting away his clothes. Not even Plumette could persuade him.

“Are those juggling balls down there on the floor?”

Lumiere glanced over at them, “I suppose they are,” he said, voice as off-casual as possible. “Nothing...special.”

"Oh I don’t know, Lumiere, it sounds like they’re special to you.”

He took his time picking them up, two in one hand and one in the other. Idly tossing one up and down, he turned to face the prince again.

“They were special once.” he concurred.

The prince grinned, raising his glass, “Show us a trick or two, Lumiere.”

“To be fair, I probably forgot everything after spending over a decade as a candelabra.”

Adam still didn’t give up hope. “Maybe you remember something.”

“I’ll give it a go then.”

Lumiere threw one ball up in the air, quickly transferring a second to his empty palm, before throwing up the third in the air. He managed this for all of three seconds before he somehow ended up tossing one of them onto the table, right into Adam’s drink. He couldn’t help a small flinch, left over from the days of when the prince was a volatile Beast, almost as if he still expected him to snap at him.

To his relief, the prince threw his head back with a laugh. “Now there’s a trick I want to see again.” With a flick of his wrist, he brought the glass up to his lips, sipping it with an exaggerated look of thoughtfulness. “Hmm...interesting new taste to the wine. Dusty with an edge of childhood memories. Not sure the rest of France will take to the unique flavour though. It would be an acquired taste.” Putting it down again on the table, the prince fished out the ball, a new look of surprise on his face, “Huh, there’s some writing here.”

Lumiere’s initial laugh gave way to silence. “Writing?”

“For the young prince,” he read aloud, “Interesting. You already guessing at the sex of Belle and I’s baby?”

Lumiere sat down across from the prince, setting down the other two balls, pouring himself a glass of wine.

“Actually, that had been for another prince.”

“Another prince?”

“A prince that once loved to watch me juggle, and was beyond ecstatic when I gifted him with these juggling balls for his fourth birthday. See? Four colours, one for each year. If you’re four, that is.”

“If they’re a gift, then why do you have them?”

“The prince didn’t want them anymore. Probably his father said juggling was for children. Imagine,” he took a long sip from his glass, “An eight year old child, who lost his mother barely a year ago, suddenly saying such play was only for children. His father...was a cruel man.”

Adam snapped his head up to stare at Lumiere, his expression stricken.

“Lumiere, are you saying that these once were mine?”

“A gift.”

“And I gave them back to you?”

“Yes.”

The prince slammed a fist on the table, making their wine glasses jump. “My father’s doing, no doubt.”

“Of course.” 

Adam reached to grab the other two juggling balls, holding them in his other hand. He looked back up at Lumiere.

“Lumiere, if you don’t mind me....”

“Have them. They were a gift in the first place.”

“I’ve probably forgotten everything,” the prince shook his head in dismay, “How can I show my future baby how to juggle?”

Lumiere leaned back in his chair, folding his arms. “First, you only have to ask me, and yes, of course I’ll show you some tricks again. Now show me what you can do.”

But the prince hesitated, seeming unsure of the first thing to do.

“I mean beyond just staring at them. Try throwing one up in the air.”

The tension in the air seemed to disappear at once with the prince’s laugh, joined soon enough by Lumiere.

“Alright, alright, I get it, Lumiere.”

With that, he tossed one up in the air, and in trying to catch it again, nearly knocked over the wine bottle. Mercifully, Lumiere’s quick reflexes saved the table cloth from a fresh new red dye.

“Good start, Adam, but try not to knock over the wine bottles.”

“Says the man who managed to juggle one right into my glass. I admit, it offered a new possible beverage item to add to the wine list during the next festival.”

“Well, I think the baby can afford to wait a few more years before showing him that particular wine trick.”

The prince grinned, setting down the juggling balls again on the table, picking up his glass of wine as if to initiate a toast.

“But first, let’s toast to Plumette and to Belle.”

Lumiere picked up his glass, raising it in the prince’s directioin. “To Plumette and Belle.”

Clink!

[magicalthoughtsendinterriblefics]

Love Story Duet - Requested

Requested by anon: where it's John's wedding and Janine (bridesmaid) ditched Sherlock to dance with someone else and then Sherlock is all sad, staring at the floor. And then the readers hand suddenly comes into view and she's like "care the dance?" And he accepts...or something like that!  & anon: hello! can u please write an imagine where y/n is the pianist at john and mary's wedding and she and sherlock talk about music and play a piece together with sherlock on the violin? and apparently she's also really smart and sherlock doesnt quite understand how she chose to make music as her profession when she could have been a scientist or something and she explains how she put her passions first idk just lotsa fluff thanks!!

Pairing: Sherlock x reader

Word count: 1,652

Warnings: Un-edited.

A/N: Since it as the second most voted yesterday, I decided to make this tonight’s fic...

Enjoy!

|Listen to the song here|

As the lights went down and the music started playing, Sherlock found himself immerse in his own thoughts. He was putting his violin inside the case, knowing that he was meant to leave the party before anyone noticed.

He had made the announcement, or at least he had felt it as an announcement, by telling John and Mary about their future baby. The couple were ecstatic, dancing around like a pair of love birds ready to grow their nest. It was so romantic Sherlock had to walk away and stop watching.

Of course, leaving the party hadn’t been precisely his first choice. He had thought of dancing – because he was an excellent dancer and he actually enjoyed it – but Molly had a boyfriend, Mrs. Hudson had been paired up by John with his grand-father and Janine was nowhere to be found.

Sherlock had also thought of sitting with someone to chat until John payed attention to him again, but the only single person there that Sherlock actually knew about was Lestrade and Sherlock didn’t feel like exchanging any sort of conversation with him and his awfully low-functioning self. Socializing with someone new was definitely off the list.

Therefore, Sherlock looked for Janine all around the party, only to find out that she had actually listened to his advice and was now dancing with one of the five bachelors Sherlock recommended. She looked happy, she was truly enjoying that man’s company and the only attention she gave to Sherlock was a mouthed “thank you” from afar.

Sherlock then realized that he had already played his part on that show and was now time to leave the scene. He was no longer required there, at least not for the night, that is. And so he took his violin case, got his coat on and tied his scarf.

“Care to dance?” A female voice asked shyly. Sherlock turned around to meet a beautiful, doll-faced woman expecting for an answer.

“I was just leaving.” He informed.

“I know…” She gave him a sheepish grin, “I’ve been wanting to ask you to dance for a while but I was too busy over there…” She gestured at the stage where the second band was already playing; and Sherlock recognized her as the pianist from the first half of the party. “Then I saw you leaving and figured it wouldn’t hurt to ask.”

Sherlock breathed out a smirk and left his violin case on the nearest chair, which was empty. Then he took off his coat and scarf in a pair of swift moves as he talked. “Guess just one dance wouldn’t hurt anyone.”

“That’s the spirit.” She chuckled. Sherlock extended his hand for her to take it and so she did. “I’m (Y/N).”

“Sherlock.” He replied, shaking her hand casually before guiding her to the dance floor.

She was almost as good at dancing as he was, and Sherlock was pleased to see that she could actually keep up with his pace. For a whole song, he forgot about John leaving him to grow a family.

“Your best-man speech was otherworldly.” She complimented as the band started playing a slower song.

“Funny, half of the invitees would think the opposite.” Sherlock joked as he pulled her closer to dance along.

“The opposite of otherworldly is basically earthly and, trust me: I have never ever heard a speech like yours before.” She spoke.

“I must admit I panicked a bit.” Sherlock muttered, “But I’ll take your words as the one and only truth.”

“What about the song?” She inquired, “It was one of the most beautiful pieces I have ever heard. Is it true that you composed it?”

“Yes, indeed.” Sherlock smiled proudly.

The conversations moved along as graceful as their dance. (Y/N) was a friend of John, and as a wedding present she had offered to take her band to the wedding, to play for as long as he and Mary needed. Mary, however, figured that asking them to play all night long was too much and hired a second band to play after them.

Sherlock had never been more interested in someone else before. She was eloquent, clever, funny… If he wasn’t such a narcissistic cock, he would’ve noticed that she was just as intelligent as him.

“Why are you a musician?” Sherlock asked as they took a rest from the dancing.

“I love music.” She replied as it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“And you are great at it but… You have the brain to be a scientist or a doctor or a…” She giggled.

“I know, everyone told me that but… Passion is what drives me.” She said, “I may be smart enough to achieve great things, but that wouldn’t make me happy at all. Without passion, I’m just another brick in the wall.”

Sherlock processed the information and agreed.

“Tell me, Sherlock,” she continued, “does your job make you happy?”

“Of course it does.” He answered within a second.

“Are you a millionaire?” She inquired.

“No.” Sherlock mumbled.

“Let’s say I can make you a millionaire with just one condition: Change your job. What would you say?”

“I’d say no.” Sherlock replied in all honesty.

“See? Same goes to me.” She finished.

Sherlock nodded and then both of them remained in silence. Although it was a comfortable silence, Sherlock couldn’t help but to try and find some new ice breaker to continue talking to her. He wanted to hear more; her point of view was so refreshing, yet she didn’t say anything new – it was like she could translate all of the abstract thoughts in his mind into coherent concepts.

“You saw me doing my job during the speech…” Sherlock spoke suddenly, “Because, in fact, there was a killer on this weeding until a few hours ago.”

“Impressive.” She mumbled.

“And I saw you playing and truly enjoying it… And then you saw me playing for John and Mary…”

“I’m not getting the point, Sherlock.” She furrowed.

“I want to play a song with you.”

-

To fix the duet wasn’t hard at all; they were both on the same tune and didn’t struggle to coordinate with one another. John and Mary didn’t hesitate in letting them play while the second band rested either. Everyone enjoyed Sherlock’s playing and (Y/N) was so talented they all knew that duet was definitely going to sound angelic.

Sherlock started playing at the same time as (Y/N) their Elysian duet. It was a song they both learned in secret and were too afraid to even say the name out loud. It was so raw in emotion – an emotion they had hidden until that moment.

Sherlock felt as if his dear solitude vanished slowly with each note they played. The ephemeral song filled his body entirely. He felt like all the missing pieces and the broken ends had finally been put together through song.

He looked to his side, finding the precious picture of (Y/N) playing the song by heart as her head swayed slightly along with the rhythm. Her beauty, as ineffable as her passion, aroused Sherlock and so he played even more beautifully than before.

His eyes were fixed on her, and for a second he became oblivious to the rest of the world. It was only the two of them on his mind, he was playing for her and she was playing for him – except they weren’t consciously aware of that.

Was it possible that they had fallen in love after a few dances, a quick chat and a duet? When you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth.

Sherlock felt unnerved about this brand new discovery, and yet the denouement of the situation turned out to be one of his biggest, unknown secrets, that by being satisfied became a pleasure, a desire even. Sherlock wanted to know her better, and he wanted to build something from that – he was desperate, needy; feelings that he had not felt before, and which he had always tagged as stupid or inutile.

The complexity of his sudden feeling-outburst could only be expressed through music. However, the song was about to end and Sherlock had to make his mind on what his next move would be.

She was captivating, and her conversation was so engaging… Sherlock couldn’t remember the last conversation in which he was absolutely interest in. Her gracious laugh and her charming smile had made him lose his breath more than once, and the intensity and deepness of her eyes got him lost in awe at the least expected moment. She was a precious gem that Sherlock desired with all his might.

The song ended with a few exquisite last notes from (Y/N). In those last seconds, Sherlock allowed himself to regain his composure.

The invitees applaud, giving them a standing ovation. The two left the stage as the band took back their places and returned to their seats. Mrs. Hudson soon appeared by Sherlock’s side, with a knowing smile on her face and flushed cheeks.

“Love Story… Beautiful song.” She complimented, smacking a loud kiss on Sherlock’s forehead.

“I see no one took your glass of wine away.” Sherlock commented and (Y/N) chuckled.

Mrs. Hudson pinched his cheek and then left to dance once again. Sherlock remained calm, although on his insides he was howling. A drunken Mrs. Hudson was never a good idea, especially when (Y/N9 was near; it was clear that, drunk or not, she had understood the look on his face and it was a real miracle that she didn’t say a word about it to the pianist.

“It’s late, I must go now.” (Y/N) informed after a while. They had been talking about their favourite pieces of music as well as receiving compliments from the rest of the invitees.

“Will I ever see you again?” Sherlock asked her.

“That is up to you, Mr. Holmes.”

Masterlist.

Sherlock Tags: @resurrection-huntress @oaisara @charlottemalfoy @zena-dukmak @just-a-blog00 @wefracturedmotivation @beccamullz @newts-fan-case @sugarshai @vancepter @roseyhxnt @thisisjessicatalking @foureyedsiopao @nicole-pierce @captain-sherlockomg @kissed-by-white-wolf @samanthasmileys @love-charmer-sketch @givemeamemoryicanuse @diesintheshower @demonminnion3 @thatmoodindigo @sexyporntime @jennajoseh @destiel5100 @peachyoshi64 

[vogel-lynne]

6:30 a.m.

Half an hour before the alarm, but the excitement and genuine desire to make the best impression pushed Johnny out of his father's bed. It was not the first night the reunited family slept together; the days spent at the courthouse, the McGregor process, paparazzi following them everywhere they went didn't contribute to soothe their agitated lives.

"CASE CLOSED."

These two words' impact had been bigger than a song and even the sound of hot water under the shower couldn't erase it. Johnny got out of it and styled his hair using modelling hair wax while getting dressed; he liked the colours of his new school's uniform and the fact that students could wear socks of their choice, unlike Worthington Institute and its obsolete rules.

Downstairs Liam was scrolling the daily news on his phone, a cup of tea placed in front of him. He didn't eat much for breakfast; after becoming sober he chose to be vegetarian and even his food portions restricted progressively.

"Are they still talking about us?" asked Johnny before eating a toast.

"They do" replied his father: "Isnae going to be over soon...at least this time they're dealing with idiotic gossips, such as the making of a reality show..." disgust took over his face:"the same thing Ozzy Osbourne did, but they're comparing us to the Kardashians..."

The son didn't know whether to laugh or cry; he hated all those photographers, their cameras' sound, flashing lights, whenever they screamed at them to look in their direction. His viral photographs were almost all blurry and he looked like a critter in front of a car. Not exactly what people expect from a rockstar's child. Especially if the given celebrity is one of the world's classiest men alive.

"O.k. Time to go. See ya later, dad!" The former aristocrat got up and kissed his only parent's cheek before reaching the street, where luckily his fellow schoolmates were too busy listening to music, chatting or filming their walking for their instagram stories to realize a boy who occupied most of BBC News was about to join them.

The school's building was Worthington Institute's total opposite with its ruined red bricks, green rusty gates, some graffiti and an old football field right behind it. Johnny didn't mind those imperfections; inside it was much more likable, with yellow walls and some posters and projects by the students. A janitor guided Johnny to the headmistress's office. He expected to get tested in order to verify his levels, but she vigorously shook his hand and gave him some papers about the rules and the programs for the year. The newcomer read carefully and then followed the janitor through the corridors until they found a crimson door he knocked twice.

A whole new world was waiting for him.

But probably didn't realize his arrival; boys and girls were discussing, small-talking, flirting and copying each other's homework. Also if there was Justin Bieber instead of him they wouldn't have been impressed.

He observed them all, looking for a possible friend, but no one even winked at him. The girls seemed to be all basic, interested in trashy gossip or talent shows whereas the boys were talking loudly about the latest football match on TV. Every spot was occupied except one in the last row beside a kid whose dark brown hair was styled in a bob and whose left eye was spotted dark blue around the eyelids.

Their new classmate didn't expect any miracle; that was already better than being bullied for breathing like in his old school.

"May I have your attention, please?"

A teacher rose her voice as he entered the classroom. "From this day a new student is going to join us! Welcome, John Andrew Rixton-Madden!"

Everyone was sitting silently; his cheeks were on fire; he wasn't used to share his surname, whole existence and especially DNA with Liam Rixton in person yet. His new classmates burst into a standing ovation.

"Oh MY! I can't believe!"

"Is that the same lad who disappeared?!"

"Do You meanthe one that left his rich family to find out his father is a rockstar?!"

"HE IS! HE IS! AND HE'S RIGHT HERE!"

"His father is that musician that looks like a Korean idol with wrinkles and has a hedgehog!"

"Keep calm!" The teacher interrupted their feisty moment and placed one hand on Johnny's shoulders: "do you have something to say?"

"Not now" his story was more known than he wanted and everybody was whispering about it.

Everybody except the only kid sitting alone, who turned around shocked when the new boy sat next to him.

"H-hello..." His socks were millennial pink and patterned by little fuchsia flamingos. Also his diary showed many of those birds. No other explanation why the rest of the class was astonished Johnny chose to spend the whole year beside James, a.k.a The Fag. That was his name and how they called him by.

"If you'll need help call ME, Johnny!"

"Are you sure of what you're doing RIGHT NOW?!"

"Don't become a Fag please! You can be much more than that!"

"Don't worry! I am used to it!" Said James during recess: "In the other schools I went to I had worse treatments, but I never bent down!" Admitted proudly. He was shorter than Johnny even when he wore platform sneakers and his eyes were shining like amber while introducing himself.

He had two pugs, loved to sing and play the piano, had an interest in photography and fashion that made him the ideal victim of bullying, but above all he adored The Killers and Brandon Flowers was the father he wanted, since he never met his actual one.

Johnny was positively impressed with James; he was spontaneous and sincerely wanted him to be his friend, unlike his teammates that were all boasting about their wealth and competing against each other even when they had to work as a team.

The Scot was about to introduce himself when James stopped to greet two other students sitting against a heater. One was a blonde whose messy hair fell over his forehead, covering two big light green eyes. His left sock had mixtapes pattern whereas the right one was all yellow. His mate had deep green irises and was reading a huge volume while removing a red curly tuft from his face. His cheeks had some freckles and his socks featured green shamrocks all over.

"Who are you?" The Blondie observed Johnny for a long time as if he was some sort of alien.

"Oh, come on, Rhys! I can't believe you've never heard or seen of him! He was even on all the newspapers! Sorry, but his head is too much in the clouds!"

"I don't watch TV..." replied Rhys:"...I don't even like social media! My siblings grew up without using them, so why can't I do like them?! Ah, sorry! I haven't introduced myself!"

Johnny liked also that quirky airhead who was probably more intelligent than what he showed. His hazy eyes totally contrasted with his friend's attentive ones. He stood slightly taller than all three of them, a finger between his book's pages: "Pleased to meet you. My name is Conor Murphy. Yes, I am Irish as you may have guessed. My father is from Dublin and my mother from Belfast, but they moved here for more working opportunities. I have a little brother and I'm reading The Lord of the rings at the moment..."

Johnny listened to their words mixing, feeling grateful for what he went through. Yes, he was raised in a lie, had lived as a beggar and suffered from severe loneliness, but he made it to become the icon of a generation without icons.

[themusicenthusiast]

Friday, November 17th, 2017 - Zuriel Merek Shines at The Palace Theatre During Breathtaking Performance Celebrating the Release of ‘The Tao Less Traveled’

Zuriel Merek. The violinist became somewhat of renowned figure through being in some notable D-FW-based bands and sharing the stage with some talented vocalists from the area. His ability to improvise (when necessary) helped to make him a highly sought musician; often being a right-hand man, so to speak, in whatever project he was a part of. More recently Merek has gone the solo route, and can be found playing venues all across North Texas, though his show on this particular night was going to be a bit different. After several years spent working on original pieces and recording them, Merek was ready to release his debut album. No longer the right-hand man, he was ready to step out underneath the stage lights as the center of attention, in a way he never had thus far during his lengthy career as a performer. This was no doubt going to be a different show. One not truly suited for the clubs or bars of Deep Ellum or Fort Worth, the neoclassical vein of music that Merek explores requiring something more unique. A place that would make the show less of an event and more of an experience. The Palace Theatre provided just such a setting. Located in the heart of downtown Grapevine, the restored 1940’s era theatre would act as an elegant room that was behooving of the music that would fill its showroom this night. Boasting 400+ seats (including a balcony area), filling it would be a challenge for anyone, even for a monumental occasion such as releasing a record. There really wasn’t much time to speculate just what kind of turnout there would be, though, the opening act, Classically Jazzed, ultimately performing to a nearly full house.

With the exception of the first few rows, there didn’t seem to be an empty seat in the house, proving just what a dedicated following Merek has amassed over the years. The age range was significant, demonstrating what a wide appeal his music has, everyone wanting to come out and share in this milestone moment of his. It began as Merek emerged from the wings and strolled over to the center of stage right, something that seemed to go unnoticed by some of the guests who were still utilizing the intermission, chatting with friends and unaware that anything was about to happen. The chatter was muted by the musician’s violin, as he proceeded to loop much of what he was doing. He would later explain the process for anyone who was unfamiliar. It was a sort of way to bridge the old into the new. This marked Merek’s first time to perform with a band accompanying him, though they were yet to be seen. Everyone was instantly enraptured by the delicate and heavenly sounds as he worked on creating the various parts of “Levity”, the lead track from The Tao Less Traveled. It served as a spectacular opening number that set the tone for the evening, radiating a sense of hope and optimism; and after a couple of minutes, it reached its peak as Merek’s five-piece backing band assumed their spots. “Thank you,” was the violinists’ response to the fanfare that erupted, as he began chatting with the audience, noting how, in a way, he had been preparing for this moment for his whole life. “…Here I am, thirty-three, playing in a Palace!” he exclaimed after acknowledging that he never imagined himself being where he was, playing music for a living. You could see the amazement in his eyes. Excitement coursing through his voice as he uttered those words, a bit shocked and overwhelmed by joy, thanks to the number of people that had turned out. At times, there was a bit of a storyteller’s element to the performance, as Merek discussed the tales behind some of the songs; the spectators listening intently to what he had to say. That included an honest story of teenage angst, Merek describing the latter part of his youth and into early adulthood, as he struggled and challenged some of the beliefs he had grown up with. “…I think that’s something most of us struggle with…” he added, referring to how many people probably do as he had done: battle in silence with where their faith lies, or even lose it altogether. That conversation revolved around Father Jim, whom Merek said had helped him through those times. “Absolution” was dedicated to him. The stirring piece ebbed and flowed magnificently; the musicians finessing the crowd as it went along. At its most intense moments it was absolutely stunning, the band helping transform it into a beast of a song. When Merek used an effects pedal to transform his violin from more of a traditional and classical-esque instrument into something supercharged that rivaled anything that would spew out of a guitar, then Medrick Greely proceed to hammer out the beats. His moves were somewhat standard, though the devastating force that he packed into every beat throughout the show was incredible. It provided a solid backbone to the songs and made them feel livelier; while the keys, manned by John Melton, sounded impeccable on that number and accented the violin splendidly. That flawless performance earned Merek and his group more deafening cheers and applause as they got to what wound up being another explosive number. “Mi Piaci” was where the man of the hour really seemed to get into the zone, settling in to a comfortable confidence as he worked his magic once the track reached its climatic point. Thus ended the first portion of the performance, a formal introduction of everyone on stage with him serving as the dismissal for his band for the time being, as he took on the solo role that he’s more accustomed to. “…No, this isn’t a giant iPod I have down here,” laughed Merek as he explained the looping process, wanting to make certain those unfamiliar with it didn’t think he was relying on tracks or something so basic. It was then, over the course of the next four songs, where things got truly interesting. Interesting because of the process that live looping entails. It’s one thing for a musician or a band to play something and hold peoples’ attention when they’re doing it straight through, though what Merek does is so much more detailed. Not only does he have to keep people entertained by the music, he has to do it while setting up the music. Every song required him to lay a foundation before he ever even got to a point where the covers would be recognizable to the onlookers; the intricate process finding him not just using the bow, but also plucking the strings of his violin. Everyone was unwavering, keeping their eyes glued to the stage, mesmerized by what he was doing. He commanded the audiences’ attention, no one even being able to think of turning away. The string of covers provided a little bit of everything; Merek’s rendition of Leonard Cohen’s “Hallelujah” seeming to be the most demanding of the bunch, at least based on the deep exhale he made upon finishing it. It was gorgeous; and once it was done, he elaborated on what an appropriate metaphor looping instruments seemed to be for living life, the gist of it being that no matter how you envision something and how much you plan and prepare for it, it’s bound to transpire somewhat differently, so the best you can do on the fly is just improvise. If there was any improvising this night, Merek played it off masterfully… which would further speak to his chops as an improve musician. The show appeared to be flawless, though. Even when things became slightly more complicated by introducing other performers into the mix. Olivia Cole sung the only song of the set that featured vocals, the duo exuding that wonderous spirit that defines “Pure Imagination”. During the following “spicy Latin song” (it was “Despacito”), Merek was joined by a couple of dancers performing their own Latin-infused dance number, which the music complimented quite well. The visual stimulation made the song all the better, the dancers themselves putting a lot of enthusiasm into their routine. One of the most tender moments of the performance came as Merek set up his final solo number, one he stressed that he always plays. It would be the theme to The Last of the Mohicans, which he informed everyone was the first R rated film he saw. One he saw with his father. Merek then took a moment to stress how much his dad meant to him and how he appreciated that he had never tried to make him fit his mold, stating how grateful he was for that and his encouragement in pursuing music. He dedicated that number to his father. To say it was an enthralling piece feels as if it would be an understatement. The compelling song took everyone on a journey, one that was even different from the rest of the show as a whole. He arguably made it sound even better than the original score, his violin having no trouble capturing the wide range of emotions the song features. The audience loved it so much that everyone in the room wound up on their feet. He had more than earned that standing ovation; the collective clapping drowning out his voice as he tried to use the microphone. “I didn’t know you wanted to go home that bad,” he quipped once the noise had subsided. He wasn’t done just yet, the band rejoining him for the final two songs of this 83-minute long set. “Ardor” was self-described as being one of his favorite pieces from The Tao Less Traveled, and it would serve as the conclusion for the evening. A fascinating blend of experimental elements with rock influences spliced in with Merek’s neoclassical style, it is perhaps the most ambitious and creative track on The Tao Less Traveled. Live, with the band, it was stupendous. Greely and bassist Darryl Bennett held it all together, while the acoustic guitar nicely punctuated the sweeter moments. Alec Wallace was holding that post down; while fellow guitarist Chris Martin emboldened the most intense portions. Those additional instruments ensured “Ardor” was as rich and textured as possible, allowing it to reach its full potential. The song was as dynamic as they come and felt like the ultimate closer, as it reached a triumphant finish, one that once again earned Merek and company a standing ovation. What a transcendental experience. It had been breathtaking, leaving the audience in sheer awe. This wasn’t just a night to celebrate in the labor of love that is Merek’s debut solo record, at least not for the fans and listeners. More than anything, this provided a thorough look at Merrick as a musician in a way that probably no show previously had. His artistry was on full display and it was something to behold. The original cuts wouldn’t have been what they were if not for the talents of Melton, Greely, Bennett, Wallace and Martin, though, the music itself still all sprung from the mind of Merek. Brilliant compositions that can redefine the perceptions that some people have regarding the violin. The traditional sound of that classical instrument is the heart of all of his pieces, though there’s a modern flare that makes them edgy and even raw. When he had the stage to himself, the spectators were able to appreciate his skills in a new way. The effort that goes into the process of creating a live loop is immense, calculative thought being imperative to pulling it off. And Merek made it all look effortless. The performance (the term “show” would be inadequate in describing this) was, indeed, laid out perfectly. The band helped in making a statement and quickly immersed everyone into the soundscapes, while the solo segment allowed for some familiarity. Even the covers had some surprises, though; Merek’s interpretations of them being recognizable yet executed in a manner that is completely unique. After energizing the crowd and then filling them with wonder, they amped it back up for a powerful end, thus bringing it full circle. When it was all said and done, Zuriel Merek had proven that you don’t always need words in order to convey emotions. His songs accomplished that just fine with only the music, enveloping the listener and keeping them spellbound. By doing so, he had solidified his place as one of D-FW’s most stunning musicians. A premier talent. It’s all in the way that Merek presents it, making what he does sound new, or at the very least, refreshing. Hopefully these full band shows will become a little more frequent. Say, a handful of times a year or so. But regardless of the format -- a backing band or solo -- you won’t leave a show of his disappointed. He has plenty of gigs lined up through the end of 2017, including one at Savor Gastropub in Dallas on November 25th. December 2nd will find him at Dodie's Place in Allen; and the 9th he’ll be performing at Hulen Mall in Fort Worth. The Common Table in Dallas will host Merek on the 28th. For a full listing and further details on the events, check out his CALENDAR. And if you attend one, be sure to pick up a copy of The Tao Less Traveled. Set List: *full band* 1)  “Levity” 2)  “Foundling” 3)  “Absolution” 4)  “Mi Piaci” *solo* 5)  “Hallelujah” (Leonard Cohen cover) 6)  “Pure Imagination” (from Willy Wonka & the Chocolate Factory) 7)  “Despacito” (Luis Fonsi cover) 8)  “The Last of the Mohicans Theme” *full band* 9)  “I Will Be There” 10)  “Ardor”