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#its more “they fook” more than anything else
girlchomp · 1 year
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nothing will EVER be as funny to me in behind the scenes fandom than nbc hannibal bc in every interview hugh dancy is sat there all earnestly, leaning forward in his chair, hands clasped, giving an extremely well phrased explanation of why romantic hannigram isnt real and every single time mads mikkelson is sat next to him giving him the most diabolical side eye with that smug smirk on his face. in my heart, every hannibal interview is just: hugh dancy: -so that's why their friendship transcended the need for romance, they were each others world just through their relationship as it was!! mads mikkelson, leant so far back in his chair hes borderline horizontal, taking a huge drag from a cigarette dangling from his fingers, in a thick european accent: they fuck.
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Ooo, cracked moonstone!Varian AU? I wanna hear more about that! And if it has any varipunzel elements to it, because sun and moon parings are just 👌
!!!! Thank you for the interest!!!!
This AU in its broadest strokes is me mixing all my love for var with my Opinion Saltmine over the lost potential into a "what if Varian's character and his relationship w Raps was used to its full potential and we added emotional + physical pain for flavor" concoction lmao.
(ramble as per usual under the cut. Enjoy!)
It started cus I just... couldn't get over how Var's motivation became a punchline to a joke in S3. He never got to develop or mature even though he's aged like everyone else. I also had gripes w Moon!Cass and her character/relationship development. This is me having fun while trying to rectify that.
In terms of the story, I wanted Varian to start with a shard because I really liked how it'd visually resemble his one blue hair stripe. And the idea of that shard acting as a compass pin was also a very "Aha! 💡" moment for me lol.
Personally, I think it'd be neat if the moonstone was just. Fuckt Up. if Raps had held it first, it would've mended itself permanently with the healing incantation, but she doesn't, and the result is an item that inherently embodies hurt and death, now unstable and hurting its holder.
Note: I placed the opal over Varian's heart because having something directly harm such a vital organ was interesting. With it, he's hurting but without it, he might hurt even more.
I love to put my fave character in situations where they're doomed one way or another :))
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Also yes ABSOLUTELY there's varipunzel ajdjaksk. It was sorta inevitable that the plot ended up surrounding their relationship! oh to be celestially tethered with your friend-turned-enemy......
Though the relationship isn't like Moon!Cass and Raps. It's the opposite if anything. They're on the same side when they finally get to the moonstone, both having the full intention of fixing the opal before Raps can do her Thing.
(But then Cass' Sudden But Inevitable Betrayal further fucks w everything, but that's neither here nor there.)
The progression here is more of a slow-burn 'friends to enemies to rekindled friends to "Oh my God we just wanna hang out but Evil Bitch Diety and her goons refuse to leave us alone" to lovers'.
I mentioned this in my meta post but I don't think how quickly both were to anger made much sense character-wise. Varian is a supposedly lonely kid, he'd be more forgiving of his (all things considered) first and best friend. Raps is a compassionate and empathetic person who'd be more distraught with the progression of events.
Both of them figuring out their emotions while apart and then when together is big a part of this AU. Their relationship goes from mutual hurt to mutual understanding and a desire to try again, learn to trust again.
Plus! There's the mirroring of the arcs. The grind-my-teeth-to-dust potential that I wanna expand on. Varian grapples with making his own destiny and purpose and position amidst the chaos that is his life while Rapunzel grapples with the stress of having a set destiny while balancing her friendships at the same time.
Both their arcs occur simultaneously! They gotta have long-lasting effects on each other!! THEY GOTTA!!
Even in canon, Varian is something that stays with Rapunzel for A While. I wanna see Rapunzel give him hope for the world and inspires him to become a better person!!! And for Varian to ground her and inspires her to see the world from a different perspective and become a better future queen in turn!!!!
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I also wanna mention the other characters! I don't care for Fook Hoot nor Shorty if I'm being honest but I do care for the rest of the gang. Specifically Cass and Eugene. In summary, Eugene being the person who can understand Cass where Raps doesn't is interesting and could really be used to develop their friendship.
Cass having a bond with more than one person would add to the shock of her betraying the team methinks. Right when you think she's finding comradery, things go to shit.
Also, she's still an antagonist/antagonist-adjacent, but driven with fear abt raps fully abandoning her if she finds out abt the whole Gothel thing rather than anger. Again.... doesn't make sense for it to be the main emotion when there's Other Stuff going on. This is a long way to say I'm smacking some abandonment issues onto her.
--
But yeah! That's the gist for now. I really hope I get to make a whole post with the actual plot some other time, I've got Many Thoughts for this AU.
Thanks a bunch if you read up until this point! As a gift, here's wip:
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myohmine · 2 years
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Harry’s House is by far my favourite H’s solo album. Cuz to be completely honest, before this, if it weren’t for Sweet Creature and Sunflower Vol.6, I wouldn’t get H’s music at all. I need settings, stage, characters, the whole nine yard to make sense of the story. Thanks to Queen Tay, I’ve been spoiled rotten with her brilliant collections of short stories. Some with overarching theme. Each, always, always with its own conclusion. Louis does the same thing. That’s why they’re my two most beloved lyricists of all time. They make sense and they make it quick.
Not Harry, no. This masochistic person fookin lingers like that three pages of LOTR describing a leaf falling from a tree. It makes me wanna kill somebody. Nothing ever concluded in his songs. NOTHING. Just more questions after a whole lot of unanswered plot lines. I listened to HS1 and I was like WTF is going on? I listened to Fine Line and I was like Ah, I kinda see what’s going on, but how does it end? Fine Line treated me like the end of INCEPTION the movie, what the fook kind of ending is that shaky spinny thing cut to black I HATE YOU SO MUCH. NO WONDER YOU’RE CHRISTOPHER NOLAN’S CHOSEN ONE YOU DEMON CHILD.
Anyhow, I finally realized through Harry’s House that this forever-dancing-Queen-young-and-sweet-only-seventeen never care to tell anyone about the ending of anything because in his froggy brain it was already SO OBVIOUS. yes, Harold, obvious to you. No one else has the benefit of seeing Louis’s eyes confirming your happily-ever-after every fortnight you absolute nutcase.
He’s in love and he’s been sprinkling pixie dust everywhere. But YOU’VE ALSO BEEN HOARDING PETER PAN ALL THIS TIME.
And good god, how narcissistic you have to be. Writing all these angsty overdramatic songs and assuming everyone will figure it out for themselves that you always get a soft warm bed at the End of the Day. I mean to be fair Louis wrote that song way back when 1D’s hiatus wasn’t a thing yet but still.
I guess I’m being mean, though. Cuz H did end up spilling the beans in Harry’s House. But also like, this forces me to understand my own psych and why I got so frustrated whenever I tried to articulate my thoughts on his songs.
Now I’m gonna go clean out my self-awareness with Queen Tay’s puns like Tell me what are my Wordsworth.
PS. I’m also losing my mind at Lou be like “singing something poppy on the same four chords” and H’s Love of My Life literally has four chords like G, D, Em, C. (Or you can even transpose it to C, G, Am, F. It can’t get anymore poppy than that.)
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movedyourchair505 · 4 years
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Non Mio (Napule Nights)
Had this idea with Elana ages ago, Alex telling Jade about how he stole somebody’s girl back in the day. Smut warning.
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His hand was resting on her thigh, steady, spread out, squeezing every now and then when he shifted, the heat of his palm a constant against her skin, and as much as Jade tried to focus on the back and forth between Alexander and the man sat opposite them on the other side of the table, it also hadn't escaped her that he was more smug than she was used to during meetings, a dark chuckle escaping him unsolicited, the corners of his mouth turned up slightly with amusement as if there were something he knew that no one else did, and while he did not seldom exude this vibe, she'd noticed it to a different level, anticipated a beneficial outcome of the meeting for him as much as its conclusion.
She didn't miss a word, nor an exchange of glances, had noticed too how the other man's gaze had lingered on her in a way that she knew would only fuel Alexander's possessiveness, as well as hostility towards him, and she was relieved when finally, he closed the deal with a quick handshake.
“Pleasure doin' business wif yeh,” Alexander drawled. “Feel free teh stick 'round 'n 'ave a drink. 's on meh,” he declared.
The man raised his eyebrows, nodding slowly, oblivious to the exaggerated politeness he was being offered, as Jade could tell more so than ever that none of it was genuine, and that her husband had absolutely no respect for the other man. “Very kind,” he said. “But my girl's waiting for me.”
Alexander's eyes widened, his gaze following the man towards the bar once Helders opened the door for them to exit the small room. “Oh,” he said with a small chuckle. “Reyht.” Followed by his security, he steered Jade to approach the bar with his business partner, his hand on the small of her back possessively. “I remember 'er.”
“Oh, you do?” the other man asked. “Right. Right, she came to a meeting with me a while ago.”
The brunette looked up when she noticed them approaching, looking from the man that kissed her cheek for a greeting to Alexander. “Mr Turner.”
“Alreyht, luv?” Alex drawled, giving a pointed nod. “Nice teh see yeh again.” He licked his lips. “Didn't realise yous was still an item.” A small smile spread across his face. “Luvleh.”
Jade watched him from the side, now convinced she was missing something, and eager for the couple to leave so she could investigate her suspicions, so she took it upon herself to dismiss them. “It was a pleasure,” she said, holding her hand out, which the other man took and shook briefly.
“And you, Mrs Turner,” he said.
She smiled, had in the last couple of months not grown tired of hearing her name said back to her out loud, nor reading it on countless documents. She gave a nod to the woman, waited for Alexander to give a dismissive nod to both of them before they turned and walked towards the exit, Cook following until they reached the doors.
Before she could speak, Alexander was facing the bar, had ordered two more drinks. “Cigarette, pupa?”
She reached to draw the thin gold case from the top pocket of his suit jacket, placed one between his lips as he parted them. “Alexander,” she said, watching them flame dance steadily for a moment, then lighting his cigarette for him, watching him take a slow drag as he trapped it between his fingers. “What was that?”
He tilted his head to the side, shifting to sit back on one of the stools. “Wha'?” he asked, raising an eyebrow questioningly as he regarded her with his now full attention.
“You know what,” she said, taking a drag as he held out his cigarette to her. “What's the story with that loser?”
He chuckled. “Fookin' joke, weren't 'e?” He took another drag, blowing the smoke away from her. “I mean, I done business wif 'im before, and 'e 'ad 'is bird wif 'im. Tha' bird tha' were joost wif 'im. Were a mess of a meetin' then. Pissed meh reyht off.”
“And you kept doing business with him? Why was he here today?” she asked, her brows furrowed and she reached for her glass as the bartender placed their drinks in front of them. “Grazie.”
“Might've gotten sum compensation,” he shrugged, pursing his lips.
She watched him slick back his hair, instantly missing his touch. “Compensation?” she questioned skeptically.
A smile played around his lips again, conceited, and he took another drag from his cigarette, followed by a sip from his whisky. “Yeh. I asked 'er if she wanted t'stay for a drink. Fook knows why 'e let 'er. Maybe 'e thought it would 'elp business.”
“And it did. We just had a meeting with him,” she stated.
“Per'aps. It were more me own personal fun though. Got a bit of satisfaction. I mean, sheh were luvleh. Yeh saw 'er. Pretteh fing.”
She was wearing a dress that didn't leave much up to imagination and Alexander hadn't been able to keep his eyes off her, hadn't tried to, she looked exquisite, and definitely too good for the man she was sat with. He cleared his throat as the man turned to leave, beating him to speaking. “Would yeh like teh stay for a glass of the whiskeh I joost 'ad brought in?” He directed his gaze onto the pretty brunette clad in leather. “Bella.”
Her eyes widened. “Mr Turner...” She looked over at the man by her side.
Alexander hadn't quite expected success with his offer, knew that if the man knew anything about him, about his reputation, he'd take his girl straight home, but there was hope, a challenge, and he was bored, wanted to rise to it, had felt disrespected despite the man's low status, and he did not want to leave the encounter the way it had been. He'd won in business, he wanted to win personally. “Yes, luv?”
“I... well...” She glanced back between the two, biting her lip when the man that had brought her gave a hint of a nod.
“You have a drink. I'll wait for you at my place. Turner gets the best liquor.”
A small smile spread across Alexander's lips. He'd hoped the man would believe the only thing he could offer to his advantage, that it would help business if he used his girl as bait. He just had no way of knowing what Alexander had in mind, nor did he know much about his nature. And that simply fuelled his satisfaction.
“Alexander...” Jade shook her head. “You could've just not done business with him.”
“It were a good deal, even if it were below me standards,” he shrugged. “And it were fun, I tell yeh. Sheh were great companeh tha' night... and the fact that 'e dun't know after all this time... fookin'ell...”
She slowly began to comprehend his complacency throughout the meeting they'd just been in. “I think maybe their thing is just quite open...”
“Wha'? For this long?” he asked, shaking his head. “Nah, not wif 'im. There ain't no good reason why she'd beh wif tha' clown still.”
Jade pressed her lips together, nodding slowly.
“Yeh ain't jealous, are yeh, doll?” He reached to cup the side of her face, angling her head towards him until their eyes met, his thumb pressing into her skin just below her chin for control.
“It was years ago,” she stated, pursing her lips. “And you're just getting off on your power high.”
“D'yeh not fink the fact tha' 'e dun't know is... amusin'?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.
“I suppose so,” she said, taking a deep breath. “I mean, it's not like I'm surprised you succeeded, Alexander...”
He tilted his head to the side, watching her take a sip of the drink he'd had poured for her. “So,” he hummed. “'ow's yehr man treat yeh?”
She swallowed. “Well...”
“I mean...” He held his hand up to elaborate. “All I'm sayin' is... yeh can do better...” He took a sip of his own. “Stunnin' girl like yeh...” He'd watched her shift closer to him, tucked her hair behind her ear, his thumb dragging slightly over her cheek for a moment. “If yeh ain't comfortable 'ere... yeh could come back wif meh to me place. Been told the view from me apartment's stunnin'.”
Jade shook her head. “You're impossible,” she said.
“I fink I were fair,” he shrugged innocently, crushing his cigarette in the ashtray, then snapping for one of the girls that walked past and gesturing towards one of the rooms. “Get tha' readeh for us, yeh?”
“She couldn't help herself...” she said, eyeing him closely, the way his lip stretched as he spoke demandingly, how his eyes softened slightly once they were back on her. The top buttons of his white shirt were unbuttoned as usual, offered a view of his sun-kissed chest and chain that matched his rings, his tattoos on display too. He'd just gotten his hair trimmed that morning, the sharp edges of his face accentuated, especially in the flattering low lights of the bar.
“'s gettin' yeh, eh?” he teased, a dark chuckle following.
“Alexander,” she huffed. “You are too full of yourself.” She had no doubts about his power, not now and not then, though wondered how far he'd taken it, why exactly he'd been so amused, and she couldn't suppress her curiosity as he nodded for her to finish her drink, then led her to the room he'd requested, the one they usually got when he didn't feel like being watched by everyone, didn't want everyone to watch her, and she was eased when the heat of his palm met her lower back again. “Did she fall for it? The view?”
“The view at me old place were stunnin',” he muttered. “Dun't quite compare to now, but...” He tilted his head. “I weren't lyin'. Birds loved it.” He led her inside, sat back in the cushions of the large sofa instantly, his arm stretched out over the back, his knees pushed apart. “C'mere.”
She lowered herself onto his thigh, his hand instantly on her hip to keep her there, and she looked at him, waited impatiently.
“I bet yeh're wearin' summat luvleh under tha' dress, darlin'.” He pressed his lips together as he watched her stood by the window, taking in the view of the city. “I mean, I kno'... not intended for meh, but... I gotta say... I do like fings tha' aren't s'posed t'be mine.”
The more time passed and the more he saw of her, the less he could suppress his lust, fuelled by the greed of not letting the other man getting away with securing a deal that he didn't deserve. Alexander had worked hard, and he knew he deserved more, that the deal was below him and the standard he'd acquired. “'e buy yeh nice fings?”
“Sometimes,” she said, nodding slowly, taking another sip from her drink, her eyes now on him. “He used to more...”
He hummed, nodded understandingly. “Rehyt. Anehfin' else yeh wish 'e did?” he asked, stepping closer to her. “Yeh can tell meh,” he added. “Joost between you 'n meh.”
She shifted into his palm despite the surprise of his touch on her hip, met his eyes, had evidently fallen victim to his charm that she'd been warned about, her fingers clutching on to the cool glass in her hand when he drew his other hand from his pocket and he was right there, her knees weakening further from the look in his dark eyes, and then he was forcing her lips apart with his, his intensity irresistible, and she found her body arching into his beyond her control, his hand sprawled out and pushing against her lower back.
Jade swallowed, watched his mouth caress the words as he spoke, his top lip stretching.
“Sheh needed it,” he declared. “Clearleh.” He pushed his tongue into his cheek, lifting his gaze to her. “Yeh want meh teh continue?”
She nodded, reluctantly, torn between not wanting to give him the satisfaction and admiring his unconditional power.
“Yeh make meh feel good then, eh?” he hummed, nodding downward. “C'mon,” he added, shifting backwards and sighing contentedly as she undid his belt buckle without another word, obeyed instantly and started stroking him once she'd freed him from the restriction of his shiny pinstriped suit trousers.
“Mm...” He hummed with satisfaction as he drew back. “Luvleh...”
Her eyes widened, her hand coming down flat on his chest, but he spoke first when she parted her lips to.
“Dun't worreh,” he drawled. “'s our secret, doll.” A deep sense of reassurance filled him when she leaned in for more and he was only too happy to comply, angling her head to kiss her harder, keep her where he wanted, chuckling when she drew away for breath sooner than he'd have liked. “Yeh sure this is wha' yeh want?” he hummed.
She swallowed, though nodded instantly, completely drawn in by his manner of absolute control and unshakeable confidence.
“Yeh stay 'ere, doll, 'n I'll... take vereh good care of yeh.” He let his hand wander lower, closing over her ass and ready to push up her dress. “Might beh a lot, but... I promise I am vereh nice.”
“I want to stay,” she stated confidently. “Mr Turner.”
He hummed, a flick of his wrist and her dress was pushed up around her waist, in no time he had her pinned to the window, stood behind her with complete control. “D'yeh need a safeword, luv?” he asked, his lips brushing against the side of her neck.
“N-Not usually,” she whispered, felt his hand coming over her mouth the moment she'd spoken the words, the other dragging her thong to the side.
He reveled in the way her breath hitched in her throat, her voice shaky. “Are yeh usualleh this wet?” He chuckled as she instantly bucked into his touch, rolled her hips back so his fingers instantly sank deeper inside her with a soft gasp that made the glass fog. “D'yeh like the view?”
She tightened around his fingers instantly, had him humming, seemingly pleased. “Good girl,” he drawled, pushing his fingers into her mouth. “Relax into meh.” Her lips sucked around his fingers instantly when he started fingering her simultaneously, her body compliant. “Mmm, yeh, tha's it, sweet'eart, joost give in...” he hummed. “Tha's me favourite.”
He could feel her giving in further with each push of his fingers, appreciative of the way she sucked obediently on his fingers while she took what he gave her, the promise of her lips soon too much to handle as she started drooling around his fingers, too tempting to not take. “D'yeh wanna taste me cock, doll?” he drawled, his breath against her neck. “'s alrehyt if yeh do.”
“Jade,” he snapped. “Enouf of tha'. On yehr knees.”
She was surprised by the sudden change in tone, the abrupt demand, but needed no telling twice, lowered herself to her knees between his legs, hardly had time to comply when his hand was already at the back of her head, fingers wound into her hair and he pushed her down on him, making her gag with how deep he pushed his cock inside her mouth, a long drawn out moan of relief leaving his lips as he threw his head back and she mewled around him, her eyes wide, watering, but she swallowed needily around him when his eyes met hers.
“Fookin'ell,” he drawled. “Yes.”
While he'd been careful before not to overstep any boundaries to achieve his goal, he was now sure he had her, could tell from the look in her eyes when he was no longer touching her and she clearly wanted him to, ready to follow his every command. “Sure yeh'll beh luvleh on yehr knees, doll,” he declared. “Yeh wanna show me?”
He watched contentedly as she knelt in front of him and he took her chin between his fingers, smiling down at her. “Keep yehr 'ead up... good girl,” he drawled. “Look like a girl tha' knows wha' sheh's doin'...”
She parted her lips, blinking up at him.
“Pretteh lips...” he hummed, dragging his thumb across her bottom lip, tilting his head to the side expectantly. “Open wider for meh.” He groaned as she sucked him into her mouth instantly. “Relax yehr throat,” he snapped, his voice trailing off into a moan when his tip hit the back of her throat. “Oh, wha' a good girl...” he hummed.
She moaned around him, tried to keep him there as he gripped on to her hair, clearly not finished yet, his undivided attention on her as she choked on him momentarily.
“Beau'iful,” he remarked. “Sooch a luvleh girl.” He hummed as he dragged her off him, licking his lips as he watched her clear her throat, her eyes shiny. “More than yeh're used teh, eh?”
Before she could catch her breath, his grip tightened again, forcing his cock down her throat and she tried her best to comply, eager for more of his praise.
“Thaa's it, sweet'eart,” he drawled as she swallowed around him again, stayed where he held her. “'ow wet's yehr cunt rehyt now, eh? Get off feelin' me cock in yehr mouf?”
He could tell she was struggling, took mercy on her and letting her catch her breath, stroking back her hair. “Vereh pretteh,” he hummed, drawn in by her swollen lips. “Would yeh like teh sit on me cock?” He tilted his head, surprised when she leaned into the touch of his hand. “Or d'yeh like teh joost beh used? Lie yeh down 'n I'll give yeh a nice fook?”
Even if she'd found her voice, she wouldn't have known what to say to him, too absorbed in his promises, everything he offered, had during the meeting gotten the impression he was all business, that the warnings of him were focused on the threat rather than the temptation of him, but she wondered now how many of his glances she'd misinterpreted, realised more and more that his mind was filthier than his manners when conducting business suggested.
“Yehr eyes lit up,” he remarked. “Like bein' pushed 'round? I could do tha', doll... yeh joost relax 'n do nofin'... joost take me cock...” He watched the excitement in her eyes. “Might beh sore 'n for a couple of days, but... promise yeh'll beh properleh fooked 'n taken care of.”
“Mr Turner...”
Jade gasped when he let her come up for air, had mostly let her suck his cock at her pace as he'd gotten lost in his story, though then refused to let her draw back, forced her down again and made her struggle so blissfully that the look in her eyes was worth it when she stared back at him. “Alexander...”
“Yehr mouf is fookin' luvleh...” he drawled. “Sooch a good girl...” He brushed his fingers through her. “Keepin' me cock wet while I tell yeh the storeh... yeh like tha', dun't yeh?”
She took his hand when he held it out for her, let him guide her into his lap. “Was she able to handle it?” she asked. “You fucked her?”
The sound of her voice had him almost losing control, as much as he enjoyed telling her the story, he really just reveled in her admiration. “Sit down on me cock, doll.”
“Alexander.” She blinked back at him, whining when his fingers closed around her throat.
“I fooked 'er,” he stated, squeezing lightly. “Overestimated 'erself though... 'ad teh stop meh at sum point... insisted teh suck me cock though, kept fankin' meh for takin' care of 'er...” As proud as he was, he was now speaking impatiently, watching her closely, an edge to his voice when his voice cut through the silence again. “On me cock. Now.”
Her grip tightened on his shoulder and she shifted her hips instantly, her head dropping down on his shoulder as his hand pushed down roughly to push her down in his lap and he filled her mercilessly, all at once and demanding to be felt, groaning loudly at the way she squeezed him in trying to adjust, her fingers digging into his shoulder. “Yesss,” he hissed. “Tha's me girl...”
“Alexander,” she whimpered breathlessly, the friction of his cock dragging against her walls too much, too blissful. “I-I... I love you.”
He stroked his hand down her back, possessively pressing down on her lower back to arch her body, to fill her deeper. “I luv yeh, Jade.”
The look in his eyes took her breath away, the depth of them, the intensity and devotion, and he pulled her in with his fingers still wrapped around her throat, capturing her lips in a deep kiss, consuming and with an overwhelming passion, the bitterness of smoke and whisky demanding to be tasted, the spice of his cologne intoxicating, the heat of his body forceful, his words slurred against her lips irresistible.
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The tape (part 7)
Part: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6
Your pov:
You made it to the car before the tears started. They were rapidly falling down your cheeks, clouding your vision and your mind. Of course Niall had said that, of course he thought you were making a mistake going back to Harry so quickly. Hell, EVERYONE probably thought it was a mistake to trust him so easily again, but no one knew. They didn’t know how you felt, how Harry felt, or everything the two of you had gone through together. They knew nothing and yet they all had the audacity to judge your actions in the situation. You started the car, needing to get away from his house as fast as possible, but also having no idea where to go. You didn’t want to go home. You didn’t want Harry to see you like this and risk him getting upset and losing whatever feelings he had figured out with Niall, thus being the person to once again ruin One Directions already uncertain future. You also didn’t want to drive to Liam or Louis’ and involve them after your previous conversation where you told them to back off and let you and Harry figure it out on your own. You pulled out of the driveway, looking in the mirror as you left, Niall sitting on the porch in tears, calling out your name. You almost went back, almost gave him another chance to explain, but you also knew he needed to be sober and willing to talk before that would ever work out. 
You decided a drive would be good, but you didn’t have anywhere specific in mind you wanted to go. You just thought that a little wind in your hair with your music blaring was exactly the distraction you needed before going home to Harry and explaining the events that had unfolded. You turned the volume up, rolled the windows down and sang along, “why men great till they gotta be great, woo, I just took a DNA test, turns out, I’m 100% that bitch.” you stopped at the red light, quieting your singing when the car next to you looked over with concerned faces. You probably looked like a crazy woman, tear stained cheeks, puffy eyes, and singing Lizzy at the top of your lungs, it was almost a cry for help. You heard your phone buzzing and looked down at Harry’s name. You reached for the phone, which had fallen to the floor on the passenger’s side, when everything stopped, your vision went black, and the loud boom of a car hitting yours echoed through the intersection.
Harry’s pov:
It had been hours since (y/n) had left to go talk to Niall, HOURS. It shouldn’t have taken that long. Harry had texted her, called, and yet no response which was abnormal. Normally she would at least send a text back letting him know that everything was going okay. He had complete trust in her, but something wasn’t sitting right about the situation. He dialed Niall’s number, hoping to get some clarification but there was no answer from him either. He paced around the living room anxiously. What if she decided to chose Niall, what if she decided he was right, leaving Harry in the process. Harry’s heart was pounding in his chest, he had just gotten her back, he couldn’t lose her, not again. He clicked another contact and held the phone to his ear anxiously awaiting the answer. “Louis?”
“What do ya want now, fooking hell Harry, can’t seem to do anything without getting a call from you these days.”
“Sorry...sorry....it’s just-”
“Lemme guess, (y/n).”
“She’s been gone for hours...neither her or Niall are answering...I don’t know what to do.”
“Well I’m about to pull into Niall’s so I’ll let you know what they are up to.”
“Why are you at Niall’s?”
“He wanted to watch the game together. I didn’t know (y/n) was going over or I would’ve held off but I’m about there now so its a little late. I’ll send her home to you.”
Harry sighed and bit his lip, “I just want to know she’s okay...”
“I’m sure she is mate, just relax. I’m literally two minutes from his driveway.”
“You don’t think she would-”
“She’s not gettin it on with Niall. I think it’s pretty obvious who she loves and it isn’t the Irish lad.”
“Yeah, I’m probably just overreacting.”
“Exactly. Okay, I’m pulling in now. I don’t see her car...did she drive herself?”
“Yeah...yeah she would have her car.”
“Well maybe she’s on her way home...hang on Niall is on the porch, I’ll ask him.”
“Okay..” Harry’s nerves were going insane, he couldn’t even stand still. Something just didn’t feel right.
“Niall, when did (y/n) leave...” he heard Louis shouting to Niall but couldn’t quite make out the answer. “Are you sure?”
“What? What is it?”
“Niall says she left an hour ago.” Harry’s heart sank. If she wasn’t at Niall’s where was she? “I’m sure everything is okay...” Louis tried to reassure him, but it wasn’t working. 
Harry hung up and dialed her number again, but there was still no answer. He called again, “come on (y/n).....answer.....answer....” No answer. He hung up and texted her, *everything okay? where are you?* He sat down and tried to think of what else to do...he might be able to track the phone but that wasn’t likely..she had blocked him from her location after the sex tape leaked. *Just let me know you are okay....Im getting worried* He dropped the phone to the couch and picked up the remote to turn on the tv, maybe some Friends would take his mind off it. He clicked resume on the episode and tried to focus but his phone buzzing immediately had his hopes up. “(y/n)?” he answered before looking at the number.
“No. It’s me.”
“Louis what the hell.”
“Turn on the news...”
“Why?”
“Just do it.”
“Fine.” He turned the tv to cable and went to the local news station. “All I see is they are reporting an accident....”
“Yeah. Doesn’t that look like (y/n)’s car though?” 
Harry’s breath was pulled from his chest as he anxiously waited for the car to be shown. There it was. A black car, he couldn’t quite make out the model but it looked like (y/n)’s. “We are currently awaiting police reports from the incident but can confirm there are two dead, and three that were care flighted in critical condition after the accident occurred. We will have more information for you right after the break.”
“Harry?” Louis’ voice cut through the silence. “It’s probably not her...”
“It was her car. I know it was. I mean I think-”
“Why don’t you come over to Niall’s and we can wait for more news...You shouldn’t be alone.”
“Yeah...yeah okay I will.”
“Alright good. See you soon.” Louis hung up and Harry grabbed his keys, trying to shake the thought from his head. Two dead.....was she one of the two? Was she in the hospital? Was she okay? His heart sank, the feeling of pressure on his chest. She had to be okay.
He drove to Niall’s fast, faster than he should’ve. He almost drove by the accident site, just to confirm if it was her car, but the traffic was lined up miles down the road as they had shut the intersection down due to the accident. He made it to Niall’s and pushed through the door, tears already in his eyes. “Are there any updates?” he sat down on the couch not even looking at Niall and Louis. Louis shifted uncomfortably and looked at Niall who put his head down. Harry looked over at them, his eyes searching for answers.
“Well...they explained that the white car there, they weren’t paying attention or some shit and slammed into the two other cars, the black and the what color is that? Green?” Louis was trying to explain it but Harry could barely listen as they showed the totaled cars.
“Two died so far, the other three are in the hospital with serious injuries.” Niall finished. He looked at Harry and sighed like he wanted to say more but also that he understood the situation and that it wasn’t the time.
“Is (y/n) okay?” Liam came walking in, looking around at the others sitting on the couch. 
“We don’t know...there hasn’t been any news.” Louis said looking at Harry for any sign of emotion. Harry didn’t know what to feel. He felt hollow, like there was nothing left. He felt the way he had when (y/n) had pushed him away at Louis’ the night he tried talking to her. If (y/n) was gone, there was no hope left for him, he wasn’t sure he would ever be okay again without her.
“Well has anyone had any contact with her?” Liam was trying to be logical, trying to debunk the theory that it wasn’t her.
“Niall was the last one who talked to her.” Harry spat, looking at Niall. “He was the one who saw her last.”
“Did she say where she was going?” Liam looked at Niall who shook his head.
“We didn’t- she didn’t- we didn’t really end on the greatest of terms.”
Harry laughed, frustrated with the whole situation. “Of course.”
“What’s that supposed ta mean?” Niall stood up walking towards Harry.
“It means, she came to give you a second chance and you must've fucking blew it.”
“You know why I blew it?” Niall poked Harry’s chest. “Because I told her it was a fuckin mistake to trust you and go back to you after you fuckin cheated on her.”
Harry pushed Niall back, “You know what the mistake was? Trusting you with the sex tape secret. If I had told anyone else we wouldn’t be in this problem.”
“I should’ve told her the minute I found out, then at least her leaving you would've been on account for your actions and not mine.”
“She’s not leaving me.” Harry growled. “We are working things out.”
“Oh yeah?” Niall mocked. “Then why was she here? Why was she trying to talk ta me about the sex tape, about everything that happened?”
“Because she’s a better person than you will ever be. She’s trying to mend the relationship she had with you, so that you two can stay friends.”
“Friends? I wouldn’t say that. I think there’s something more there than she wants ta admit.”
“She told me she thought of you like a brother. Maybe you shouldn’t even get the title of friend though after breaking her down once again..”
“Then why did she let me kiss her huh?” Harry didn’t even say anything, his fist collided with Niall’s cheek, sending Niall stumbling back. Louis grabbed Niall, and Liam grabbed Harry, separating them before anything else could happen. “That’s right. She could be dead and the last person to kiss her was me. How’s that make ya feel Harry?”
“Both of you need to shut the fuck up. This isn’t helping anything.” Liam let go of Harry and stepped between him and Niall.
“Seriously. All that should matter is (y/n).” Louis relaxed his grip on Niall and looked at Harry. “You two need to figure out your differences as well, this is getting old. Niall, (y/n) doesn’t love you the way you love her. It’s been obvious for years and we should’ve said something then. Harry you can’t blame Niall. You can only blame the other car for hitting her, if it even is her we don’t know.”
“Louis’ right.” Liam stepped back. “Niall you kissing (y/n) was just stupid, I mean what did you expect would happen. I think anyone of us would hit you after admitting that. Now you two work this out, Louis and I are going to call and order dinner since this seems like it could be a long night.”
Louis and Liam left the room, leaving Niall and Harry sitting on the couch glaring at each other. Neither wanted to speak first, but someone was going to have to. Niall touched his cheek where Harry had hit him and winced. “It was a good shot.” Niall commented.
“Thanks...been working on it for a while.” 
“I can tell, really got me good. PR is gonna have a fit when it bruises.” Harry laughed and tried to be mad, but Niall sighed and shook his head. “I’m sorry. I only did it to see if there was something there. She pushed me off immediately though, said she only ever loved you. I should’ve accepted it but I pushed her farther and she left upset. It’s my fault she is where she is now”
“No.” Harry shook his head. “It’s not your fault. It’s not mine.” He looked over at Niall. “This was wrong place, wrong time. The rest of the situation doesn't matter. So you kissed her, or got into an argument about me being a dick, you can’t control her, no one can.” Harry laughed lightly. “That’s something I’ve always loved about her. She never does what she’s told. She's too independent for that.” He stood up, pacing the room again, trying to distract himself from the situation.
“She's going to be okay.” Niall stood up and walked over, pulling Harry into a tight hug. Harry felt the tears falling down his cheek, he held tightly onto Niall and nodded.
“Now that’s better.” Louis nodded approvingly.  He carried a couple beers out and offered them up. Niall took one, downing most of it in one sip but Harry pushed the bottle away. He wasn’t in the mood, not when he didn't know where (y/n) was or if she was okay....or alive.
“Have you checked your phone at all Harry?” Liam asked sitting down with a bag of chips. 
Harry looked around and shook his head. “I thought the sound was on and haven't heard anything but I’m not sure...” He grabbed his phone from the floor and looked at it. There were a few twitter notifications but other than that nothing. He dropped it to the couch and stood up. “Should I call the hospital and ask?”
Louis shook his head, “you’re not family, they won’t give you any information even if she is there.”
“Maybe you could call her family?” Niall suggested.
“Who was her emergency contact?” Liam asked, taking another handful of chips from the bag Niall had stolen.
“I was...I’m not sure if she changed it or not...” Harry’s head dropped and he stared at the phone, willing it to give him some kind of answer.
“Check your home camera’s, maybe she made it home and her phone is dead or somethin.” Liam suggested.
Harry pulled up the livestream and shook his head. “She’s not home.” He sighed, “Maybe I should just drive by the scene and explain the situation. They might be able to give me some answ-” Harry’s phone ringing stopped him dead. He stared at the name and wave of relief washed through him when her name popped up. “(y/n), thank god, you had me worried sick.”
“Mr. Styles, this is Officer Watson..” Harry’s heart fell, the phone fell out of his hand and he sat there frozen, unable to answer. Something had happened to her.
Louis picked up the phone, “Hello? Ah, yes, Officer Watson, this is Louis Tomlinson how do you do?” He looked at Harry and then at the others and then at his feet. “Yes, I’ve got Harry here with me...yeah...yeah I do believe that’s correct that he was her emergency contact....” Harry looked up with tears in his eyes and Louis bit his lip. “Is she- is she okay?”
“Put him on speaker mate.” Liam whispered. 
Louis put it on speaker and continued on, “Yeah...yeah we saw there was an accident...is she okay though?”
Everyone held there breath, Harry looked like he was about to pass out, Niall looked sick, and Liam just looked nervous. “Well...the accident was pretty bad, and unfortunately-” Harry broke into a sob, interrupting the answer and Louis shook his head.
“Sorry about that, do continue.”
“Yes, well, unfortunately (y/n) was injured in the accident. She was taken to the hospital unconscious. I don’t have any more information to share with you, but did want to let you know she will be there and that they are accepting Harry Styles, as her medical contact to show up eventually. Sorry to have to inform you of this...if you have any questions contact our department, otherwise, we hope everything works out.”
“Yes...yeah, thank you mate, Harry will be on his way. We will contact you with more questions in the future. Alright bye.” Louis hung up and handed Harry’s phone to him. Harry’s eyes were rimmed with red already, his breathing fast and unnatural. “Harry...” Louis tried shaking him, looking at the other guys for help. “Harry you need to go to the hospital..”
“What if she’s dead?” 
“He said she was alive when she got there, so come on.” Louis grabbed Harry’s arm and pulled him up. “If she wakes up alone, she’s going to be scared to death, do you really want that? Do you want her waking up alone?”
Harry shook his head and stood up. “Will...will you guys come as well?” They nodded and Louis grabbed his keys, ushering everyone in the car. 
The drive to the hospital was silent, no one in the mood to talk and the only sound was coming from Harry who holding back sobs. Louis pulled up to the ER and let Harry out so that he could run inside while they parked the car. 
Harry walked up to the desk, wiping his tears and holding his breath, unsure of what he was about to find.”Hi, uhm I’m Harry Styles...my girlfriend (y/n) was brought in here from an accident....the...the officer said that I would be able to come in and and see her....”
The nurse looked up at him with her mouth open, clearly not expecting Harry Styles to walk in. Harry nervously tapped the counter, waiting for her to answer. He wiped a tear that was falling and stared at the girl again. Louis, Liam, and Niall came running up behind him, looking at the girl as well. “Did ya find anythin out?” Niall asked.
“Not yet...” Harry mumbled. “Excuse me...I’m looking for (y/n)...she was brought in by ambulance or or by careful flight im not exactly sure...”
The nurse stared again, looking from one boy to the other, mouth open in shock. Louis was getting impatient, tapping his foot. “Okay. If you won't give us answers we will find someone else.”
“No..No sorry. Uh, yes. (y/n)....(y/n)...ah she came in an hour or so ago with the other victims of the accident. Uh she is still unconscious...” she looked at the boys again. “I have Harry listed as the emergency contact which means he is able to go into the room but until she's transferred out of the ICU, he’s the only visitor allowed. Her room number is 12A. It’s on the left down this hallway.” she pointed to the right and smiled.
“We will wait out in the car for you Harry. Let us know what happens okay?” Liam clapped Harry on the back and pulled him into a hug. The other guys nodded and followed Liam out while Harry moved to the right side of the hallway. 
“12A....12A....” he finally came to the room. The door was closed and lights dimmed. He had no idea what he was walking into but he knew he needed to see her. He pushed open the door, his breath catching as his eyes caught sight of her. She was unconscious...just as the nurse had said, her small frame in the big bed. Her face had a nasty bruise and some cuts, but other than that he couldn’t tell the damage. He sat in the chair next to the bed and gripped her hand, softly rubbing his fingers over the cold skin. She was ice cold. He placed a kiss on her palm and then touched his head to the back of her hand, whispering, “(y/n)....(y/n) if you- if you can hear me....I-I just wanted to let you know I’m here....and I’m not going anywhere.”
---
So I know this seems a little dramatic....BUT I wanted it to be something big that brought everyone back together....ALSO since I’m already on part 7....I figured I would extend the story to make it an even 10 parts...Now the 10th part is actually just going to be the story and all the parts added together in one extra large story so stayed tuned!
Will (y/n) wake up? Will she be okay? Will she remember Harry and the boys? Will they make it through the next hurdle? 
xoxo
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Oasis: Knobworth. Cocaine, Caricature and ‘The Culture Industry’s’ wet dream.
This week sees the release of the documentary film ‘Oasis Knobworth 1996’ which marks 25 years since the Manchester rock band played to over a quarter of a million disciples in a field in Hertfordshire across two nights. Obviously brand Oasis couldn’t miss the opportunity to celebrate its own greatness, in what is now being understood and accepted as some sort of era defining moment in pop cultural history. As a native of Manchester, who whether he likes it or not is psychically entrenched in the cities musical and cultural legacy and who was 15 years old when this event took place, I equally cannot miss the opportunity to challenge this retro fetish overstatement and present my own subjective understanding and experience of watching these caricatures of sex, drugs and rock roll as they rose to prominence. Let's face it ‘the culture industry’ has always needed fodder to sell to a teenage audience who in coming of age are flirting with the mask of social identity which is heavily informed by pop culture, and from late 1995 onwards Oasis, led by the brothers Gallagher were that fodder. The juggernaut of utter nonsense that they were peddling really began with the release of their sophomore effort (What’s the story) Morning Glory on the 2nd of October 1995, which to this day has gone on to sell in excess of 22 million copies worldwide, figures that depressingly highlight the state we are in as a species. Upon hearing the album as a 14 year engrossed in pop music culture I immediately disliked it. Gone were the walls of thick guitars, punkish irreverence and embellishments of baggy Northern Psychedelia that marked the best moments of their debut album, instead the listener was subjected to an overly clean, acoustic, commercial sounding record that was lyrically lazy, pedestrian and trite, to me it was and always will be an artistic car crash. It sounded immediately like a band uninterested in challenging itself or its audience, who instead were solely concerned with mass appeal, shifting units and making money. Whilst it should always be noted that the Gallagher brothers made no attempt to hide their aspirations for commercial success, material wealth and brand ubiquity, I simply find such sole motivations a turn off, that, more often than not result in utter dross, the kind that defines Oasis’ discography. Indeed, any ascent to the summit of pop culture will rarely be the sole result of an absolute desire for honest and uncompromising artistic expression, to just ‘make something’ regardless of economic reward or consideration for the consequences of what that expression communicates, represents or signifies. Indeed, such an approach will often come into direct conflict with the bottom line of the music industry, which is solely concerned with profit, monopolistic market control, the dissemination of ideology and projection of archetypes. And so it is that far from the ‘deviant bad boys of pop’ peddled by the culture industry press from 1995 onward, Oasis were actually a very obedient market vehicle for profit, who promoted nihilistic hedonism, idolatry, narcissism, misplaced masculinity, benign sexism, cocaine, lager and a depressing caricature of working class identity, and last but not least a brand of Beatles infused substance devoid pub rock. The ‘culture industry’ had been peddling this sort of shit from the mid 60’s in pop music and long before in general pop culture and as a result dear reader it was obviously very marketable once again to the mid-nineties teenage generation and to many subsequent generations for that matter. The game doesn't change. Oasis were and remain a wet dream of ‘the culture industry’, all too happy to short change a generation of youth culture with their destructive notions of cool, short sighted egocentric one dimensional outlook, and celebration of pack animal conformity under a banner of ‘rock and roll’ which signals ‘defiance’ ‘deviance’ and ‘hope’ but when unpacked and interrogated actually reveals a concession and obedience to the drudgery, depression and anomie of a top down controlled market culture by both the band and its disciples. They were without doubt a grey cloud of hard materialist understanding and sense pleasure that would leave Saint Francis of Assisi empty inside and reaching for a razor blade. I think it was the idolatry, narcissism and the reductionist mask of masculinity (that were all no doubt in the air at Knobworth, I couldn’t actually say as I wasn’t there, I had seen them on 26/11/1995 at the Manchester Nynex, and although I certainly do have deep seated masochistic tendencies everybody has a limit, and once was enough) that the band and its followers displayed that really didn’t sit well with me when the cultural juggernaut of Oasis and Britpop took off. These traits were for the most part distilled, embodied, displayed and performed by the band's frontman Liam Gallagher, a man whose answer to all of life’s existential conundrums is a pint of Carling. To me, Liam always carried a look of someone who had been asked a question they didn’t understand and was just trying to front it out with a gormless stare in an attempt to display some presence of depth and mystique to his onlooking disciples and celebrity obsessed media. When he did speak his articulations rarely got beyond how he was ‘mad for it’, how he was the ‘best frontman’ in the ‘best band’ and when his adopted mask of self-confidence was ever threatened would often bark ‘fook off’ in deflection and defence. Gallagher became the ‘Archetype’ that the modern-day British working class (and wannabe working class) alpha male identity is built on. Replete with feather cut, stone island jacket, adidas originals and cheap cocaine, ready to perform the identity prison they have adopted until the cows come home. I occasionally ponder as to whether the clinging too and performance of such a symbolically material identity merely masks an innate fear, and serves to deny the unpacking and unmasking of the ‘authentic self’, and how that process would more than likely contradict the projected ‘tower of strength’ that is indefinitely projected and protected by this deflective mask. I mean I thought we were an expression of consciousness with the innate capacity for creativity, who are looking to integrate the inner self into the ‘persona’ so as to not be imprisoned and tormented by the demands of the social mask, the gulf between the two and its insistence for the inauthentic? Who knows, and ultimately who really cares in this day and age. In terms of the idolatry, the fans deification of Liam and his brother Noel, alongside their deification of John Lennon, the two Paul McCartney's, Bozo and Poor Weller also really pissed me off when I was 15 and still doesn’t sit right with me today. It's the rock n roll hierarchy-musical establishment-gotta pay your dues-know the classics-they’re a fucking genius claptrap that really gets me goat. I mean fuck off, they've just made a record aided and abetted by an industry who want to flog them to death for moolah, and i’m expected to sit here and believe they're some sort of god like genius that captured the feelings of a mass populace, nah mate, it was capital backed exceptional marketing and mass gullibility. Limmy would capture working class culture in a 20 second video clip shot on his phone for nothing entitled “She’s turned the weans against us” (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=I5VaPQflLq0&ab_channel=Limmy) in a far more profound and meaningful way 15 years after Knobworth. Furthermore, music solely informed and inspired by music and music history makes me want piss on my own face. That whole disciple of rock n roll dogmatic cultish crap, we want to be like our hero's motivation is so very depressing. I mean you’re having a unique subjective sensory experience, migrating through your own orbit of experience, and then when you engage with your creative faculties as a singular human being you adopt wholesale the principles and goals of those who’ve gone before you, or equally when simply embodying your identity it’s one built on the fetishization of a vapid celebrity archetype? Really? Really though? You’re not gonna take the opportunity to figure yourself out and project the uniqueness of your experience, reject or accept the external organising principles or merely just ‘mix the fucker up’? Hey who am I to pose such questions I guess, and in the immortal words of Oasis “You have to be yourself, you can’t be no one else”. Ha. I do think that line should now be updated to “you have to be a caricature of yourself because you cannot be anything else” though. Ooooh. Anyway, I shouldn’t really be blaming the current mask of one dimensional male social identity or celebrity deification on Oasis, they’re merely a cog in a machine that reproduces this reproduction over and over. However, that doesn’t detract from the fact that they are Manchester's greatest cultural own goal (shame really cause after the opening 5 or 10 minutes I was thinking we've got a team here), who made and continue to make to this day nonsensical grey groove-less drudgery a viable commodity with posthumous releases and as solo artists. Now that may be easy for me to say, as I was without doubt somewhat spoiled by exposure to the cities compelling history of DIY music from a young age, from the shadowy existential concrete corridors of Joy Division to the sharp witted marriage of high/low brow culture and realism/surrealism presented by The Fall, all the way through to the theological and philosophical street politics of The Stone Roses. Come 1995/96 I maybe expected more, but therein was a lesson for me, never expect, and indeed, always take the art and never the artist, and never ever deify. Musically Oasis were breathtakingly boring, real stodgy laboured stuff, and lyrically, to be brutally honest they were cringeworthy and embarrassing. However, to give them their due they did have conviction, but I’m sure that fellow Northerner Harold Shipman also had conviction in his creative output, but ultimately that doesn’t mean it was any good now does it? To me Oasis sounded like they were sent from the back of a battered cement mixer, or the lounge of the Robin Hood, or from the bottom of an overflowing ashtray on a coffee table in a council flat where shit cocaine is being relentlessly sniffed and Sky Sports News plays indefinitely. Symbolically they may be best defined as a scrunched up and discarded losing betting slip on the floor of a bookmaker’s that is heavy with the air of momentary hope, desperation, and inevitable loss. No thanks. P.S Look, all subjective criticism aside, Oasis spoke to millions and for that I congratulate them, they just never really spoke to me. Initially Liam and Noel were a breath of fresh air with their straight up lads with guitars attitude, riding their obvious desire with endlessly projected self- belief. However, to me there was just nothing after that initial Jab of intent present on Definitely Maybe and in interviews circa 94/95, there was no hook, combination or knock-out punch. Couple that with a general lack of grace, rhythm and finesse in the ring and to me as a spectacle it became boring very quickly, and as the rounds wore on that predictable Jab looked tired and stale, and the self-belief turned to coke fuelled narcissism. The ‘flock identity’ that materialised in the slipstream of their ascent and especially the attitude mimicry that was present then and remains today in the ‘Oasis Fan’ to be truthful is touch tragic. Furthermore, I've always held a deep-seated scepticism of the dynamics and motivations of 'the crowd' at the point of critical mass, especially when corporate power is deeply involved and invested in the relationship between the art and the audience. D'you know what I mean?
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Like a House of Cards Ch. 10: To Go Forward, Sometimes you Have to go Backwards
Summary: Mistakes happen when you mess around with magical objects.
Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13
Brody walked down to the parking lot after the Sides and the Androids had gone up to talk about the plan and safety measures.
Glitch Logan was running diagnostics on the completed machine so Brody was left in silence for a bit.
So it left the hitman with his thoughts. Which wasn’t always a good thing. He took out his wallet to look at a picture. It was the only professional picture he had of the twins.
His Dark — Brody’s Dark — was sitting in a chair with their little twin sons seated in his lap. The hitman was standing behind them. Dark was the only one of the four without a huge smile, his smile a bit more subdued.
The sight brought a sad sight deep from Brody’s face. Another family was being ripped out from under him. Just when things were starting to get good again.
At the sound of footsteps, Brody quickly pocketed his wallet and turned to see, to his relief, his head saw Glitch Logan watching him. His nanite body visible.
Glitch Logan looked at Brody, “You didn’t tell him.”
“A’course[1] not,” Brody scoffed, and put his wallet away. “Bubblegum fooker is takin’ Dark from me, I’m not gonna help him take my twins too.”[2]
Glitch Logan was quiet, which just let Brody go off on a tirade, “I shouldn’t have ta sacrifice one set ‘a my kids fer the other. I wanted T.B, Lils, and Paddy ta be alive an’ safe but I shouldn’t have ta let the Twins not exist ta cause it. An’ I shouldn’t have ta let my kids die ta get the Twins.”[3]
“Your logic is not flawed,” Glitch Logan agreed. “Unfortunately that does not seem to be the situation we have found ourselves in.”
“Fook!”[4] Brody shouted.
“There a problem?” Nestor came down with the rest of the group they needed. Silver, Jackie, Dark, and Wilford had accompanied the time travelers and their past doubles.
“No,” Brody scoffed, glaring at Wilford. “Obviously not.”
Janus was walking down with Roman. The creative Side not wanting to be far from Logan.
“Head back upstairs,” Glitch Logan told them. “This will be a quick procedure.”
“As if we trust you,” Roman rolled his eyes.
“I don’t care if you trust me, I care if you’re safe,” Glitch Logan spat.
“We’ll stay until the transfer starts,” Janus told him. “To make sure you don’t do anything to him.”
The young glitch demon smiled, “I don’t need any of that anymore.”
“Did you do anything to him?” Roman demanded.
“I have only been here for a minute or two, I am fine,” Logan reassured.
Everyone was having their little eleventh hour conversations. Jackie walked up to Diamonds who was signing with J.J.
“Got a question, before I head up,” Jackie asked Diamonds, gesturing to his own throat. “If yeh[5] don’t mind me askin’[6].”
“Not at all,” Diamonds smiled, his voice crackled a bit. “Logan, Google, and Mortician made this for me. It’s a voice box that transmits signals from my brain to the box. It does have to be replaced every few months because my magic destroys it, but it was quite a nice gift.”
“Yeah,” Jackie smiled.
As Jackie was talking to J.J, Brody walked over to Chase.
“I hope yeh[5] don’t remember anythin’[7] I know,” Brody told Chase. “If my world an’ my family is gonna crash down around me, then I don’t wanna remember it.”[8]
Chase was just staring at him, “Me too.”
Brody turned to glare at Wil, “Take care ‘a him, or else I will find some way ta make yeh pay fer it.”[9]
“I will,” Wilford promised but it was clear Brody didn’t believe it.
Then he turned to look at Dark, his expression softer, “Yeh deserve the world, yeh really do an’ when yeh see the Actor, punch him fer me. ‘Cause I won’t be there ta do it.”[9]
“I don’t need to be convinced to hit him more than once,” Dark hissed.
Suddenly the core of the machine began to glow sharply and everyone had a moment’s notice before pain ripped through the people in the middle of the room and a crack shot down the room. Dark, Wil, the Sides, Diamonds, and J.J to one side, and everyone else to the other. A white light engulfed the room.
When the light cleared Silver was standing in a grassy field with Jackie, Ethan, Brody, Chase, and just the Host. The second Host and Nestor were missing.
“I feel weird,” Ethan was patting his chest. “I feel really pissed and angry and I don’t know why.”
“What Ethan is from the transfer, if he is lucky then it will soon fade.” The Host began to run out of the field, “The Host, Brody, and the heroes need to find a time rift out of this point in time quickly.”
“Why, where are we?” Mark asked, picking up Ethan and following him as the rest of the group followed the Host as well.
Coming to a halt, the Host turned to look at them. “Dark is not with the group so the heroes should rid themselves out of their outfits, they will stand out.”
“What is goin’[10] on?” Chase demanded.
“The Host and his allies are in the year 1963, and today is the day that the Entity and the Madman meet again. They will become allies and take over the city within a matter of weeks. By the end of the month the city will become a completely different creature and will be irreversibly driven down the path that will cause the creations of the heroes that fight against both of them.”
“What?” Brody shouted. “How’d we all get thrown back? Where are the others?”
“They have the Anomaly, so we need to find our current Anomaly and use that to get to where Dark and the others are,” the Host explained as everyone started switching into their civilian clothes. “The other heroes and villains were pushed into a different reality and the two groups must regroup.”
With their outfits a touch more casual, the group tried to look like they weren’t time travelers or aliens.
Ethan had to stop a couple times to catch his breath and not have a panic attack. Because he felt like someone had emotionally set him on fire and he wanted to stay next to Mark or Séan the whole time and only started to feel like he was going back to normal by the time the Host took them through a building where Mark heard a rather familiar voice. It was Dark’s and Wil’s voices. Mark could smell the odor of blood and rot in the air. As if Dark had been killing with his aura.
As the crew snuck through the building, Mark froze to listen in. They were so close. Dark wasn’t as powerful, he wasn’t prepared. He could—
“Wil, she’s sleeping,” Dark grumbled, his voice sounding almost as if it hadn’t been used in some time.
“Oh good, good,” Wil decided. Some of his words were hard to understand but suddenly Wil yelled, “I’ve got a great idea, we’re gonna make a TV show.”
Dark was quiet for a long time and Mark wished he could see his face. But he lingered long enough to hear the future mob boss sigh in frustrated indulgence, “Okay.”
A light clapping reached Mark’s ears, “Excellent, Dames, we can talk details at this lovely little diner it’s got—”
At this point, their voices began to get farther away, and the Host cleared his throat so Mark raced away from the door and into an alley.
“Silver and Jackie will accompany the Host into the next building to get the Anomaly, all others should remain up here.”
“Okay, okay, let’s go,” Séan agreed and the Host used his aura to help them break into the apartment building. But since it was set into the hill there were three flights of stairs connecting them to the ground floor and the Host was practically flying down the stairs, his aura helping him navigate the steps and get down safely. Then he took them down the hall to a room where there was a huge magical sigil on the ground and a magic standing in a red tux with black eyes, and a wailing infant cradled in his hands.
It was the Actor, on the eve of another great story.
“There you are,” Marc smiled as the little squirming and crying bundle. “You’ll make a wonderful addition to our story, won’t you?”
Then the door was ripped open and the Host was there. Marc and the baby both startled. “The hell?”
Now that Marc was distracted the Anomaly he’d been working with had nowhere else to put its magic so it ripped open another rift in time. Another point decades in the future but not quite the time that the Host and the others had come from.
Séan had been racing down the hallway and then tripped on a carpet. So he slammed right into the Actor who dropped the baby right into the time rift that immediately closed shut.
“No!” The Actor shouted. “That was my fucking son!”
“Yikes! Host can we get the kid back?” Séan demanded. “Where’d he go?”
The Host’s aura forced a portal around the Actor and he was gone, the box that housed the Anomaly glitched and the Seer grabbed the box and began to sprint out of the room.
He opened the box and quickly pulled out a bracelet, holding the box with his aura as he ran, “the Host and the heroes must go now. Before the Actor returns. They do not have long but they cannot face him now. They do not have the power nor space to be able to do so.”
“Who was that?” Mark asked, following the Host as Séan ran alongside Mark and they headed back up the stairs.
“The archnemesis to the Entity,” the Host told him. “The child he had would have been used as leverage against the Entity. But now he is in somewhat safer hands and will eventually live under the Entity and the Madman’s care. You have actually just saved him from a loveless environment.”
“Was that one ‘a yer brothers?”[11] Séan asked. “Yeh have what? Five ‘a ‘em?”[12]
The Host leaned over the banister to look down at them,  “The Host also has a sister.”
“Yeah, but yeh an’ that guy hinted that was a boy,”[13] Jackie stalled.
“Yes, and it is true that the infant was one of the Entity and the Madman’s sons, but the Host likes to include his sister when he can.” The Host gave them a huge smile before starting to dart back up the stairs.
Séan and Mark smiled at each other before following the Host back out of the apartment and into daylight where Chase and Brody were still waiting with Ethan.
“You guys got it?” Ethan asked.
“Time Anomaly scored,” Séan snapped his fingers over in the Host’s direction. “Let’s go home.”
The Host motioned for everyone to pull in together. “The heroes still have to locate the second group. They were pushed into a separate dimension and cannot be left there.”
“We get it, we’re pressed for time,” Mark agreed. “How do we do this?”
“The Host will start up the transfer,” the Host offered as everyone gathered in close. “Six will start the transfer but only five will move through.”
“Do I have time ta[14] say a couple words?” Brody asked.
“Yes, but Brody does not have long,” the Host warned.
“Fine,” Brody agreed before walking over to Chase.
“Look out fer[15] him okay,” Brody asked Chase. “Yeh don’t have ta like him, but just make sure Wil doesn’t take advantage ‘a him. He means e’erythin’ ta me.”[16]
“I can’t promise I’ll be good at it, but I’ll try,” Chase promised.
“Thanks,” Brody smiled sadly, taking out his wallet to look at the picture one last time. The world seemed to fold in on itself around them as a blinding white light came from the Host and engulfed the group. “That’s all I need.”
With a roaring in everyone’s ears the past and future of two different timelines compressed a little tighter before the hole in space and time flexed again and the Host sent them to find the others that had been separated from them.
After the flash of blinding light faded, they were standing in the same back alley. The streets were right but the feel in the air was wrong.
~~~~~~~~~~~
Accessibility Translations
1. Of course
2. Bubblegum fucker is taking Dark from me, I’m not going to help him take my twins too.
3. I shouldn’t have to sacrifice one set of my kids for the other. I wanted T.B, Lils, and Paddy to be alive and safe but I shouldn’t have to let the Twins not exist to cause it. And I shouldn’t have to let my kids die to get the Twins.
4. Fuck!
5. you
6. asking
7. anything
8. If my world and my family is going to crash down around me, then I don’t want to remember it
9. You deserve the world, you really do and when you see the Actor, punch him for me. Because I won’t be there to do it.
10. going to
11. Was that one of your brothers?
12. You have what? Five of them?
13. Yeah, but you and that guy hinted that was a boy
14. to
15. for
16. You don’t have to like him, but just make sure Wil doesn’t take advantage of him. He means everything to me.
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ephrampettaline · 5 years
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chatzy au log with @alessafalling, @bumblingbrujo, @cassiegermaine, @ephrampettaline, @isadelavega, and @joeyvoeman
Ephram had refused to talk about anything in the car ride home, ignored Joey completely, and gone inside the manor to his office -- his father's office -- with his left hand jammed deep inside his coat. He went straight to the liquor that was set up on the sideboard (no dainty bar cart for the old man, nossir) and fumbled one-handed with the crystal lid of the whiskey decanter.
Cassie had only tried for the first few minutes of the car ride home to get Ephram to speak. When it was clear he was either going to to stew, or was in too much pain to do so, Cassie let him be. But back in the manor – she was close on her brother’s heels not looking back for Joey or giving Ms. Hughs much of an explanation for the rush into the house at all. “Hey!” Cassie barked again, “Catch me up here. What the fuck did you do with Petal to get your finger cut off?!” She had nearly tossed the digit and the handkerchief out the window when it was handed too her it scared her so bad, but she tossed it on the table now.
Ephram looked at her, aghast, his pink-rimmed nostrils quivering. "What did I do?" he repeated, then followed it with an angry laugh, turning back to the bottle. "What did I do." Ephram's tone took on an exaggeratedly conversational recitation as he said, "Well, Cassie, I tried to take care of the little matter of Skull Boys being the higher bidder on that government shipping contract we've been angling for, because that was what Petal Popovitch wanted to talk about. As in, tell us to back the fuck off of while she had the upper hand, in her bloody dress shop on her godforsaken turf where she had her goons available to hold me down while she cut off my fucking finger with dressmaking shears, because my sister went and got herself FUCKING KIDNAPPED!" 
He accidentally tipped over the decanter trying to get the lid off, and hefted the whole thing up to hurl across the room with a loud curse as it smashed against the wall and showered Cassie with glass shards and liquor.
Cassie ducked a little when she saw Ephram raising the decanter to toss it. Her hands shielding over her head slightly before she stood straight again, kicking some glass shards away. “The big scary man.” Cassie mused, clicking her tongue in disappointment only at the broken crystal and spilled liquor. “I’m terrified.” 
She took her seat and looked back to Ephram sharply, “How was I supposed to know they’d be lurking about? Clair de Lune was behind schedule.” Cassie explained, scoffing at the sight of Ephram’s finger on the table, and the reason as to why it was dispatched. “I tried to figure out what Skull Boys wanted before we even left the alley-“ She spread her hands out, “Petal was only interested in games. We could have worked something out over the shipping contract. I don’t understand the brutality.” Cassie paused, crossing her legs, “I’m sorry, brother.”
Ephram scooped up the bottle of rum and bit the cork out of its neck, spitting it onto the floor. "Oh, well then," he said, sweeping Cassie an unsteady bow. "She's sorry. How was she supposed to know? After all, it's not like I told Voeman to go along because he has experience in these things and can handle himself because he carries a fooking gun." Ephram swallowed a few deep gulps of the rum and sat against his father's desk, reeling somewhat, sweat starting to soak through his shirt. "I know you don't understand the brutality. That's exactly why we have things set up the way we do, Cassie: you handle things quietly, behind the scenes, with nobody knowin' you got the influence in Kingfisher and the Jacks that you do. I'm the one who handles the brutality. I'm the one who understands it." He nursed the bottle, breathing heavily, damply, sounding laboured like a child with a bad cold.
Cassie sat there quietly, allowing Ephram to halfway lecture her about how silly she’d been and their different roles in the business. “I mean you did just chuck a bottle at me…” She murmured, she could grasp the brutality off of that action, but she didn’t want to get into it with him. “So what? I’ll stay behind everything while you go off and get digits snipped away?” Why did they save that for Ephram specifically? Because it was the only way to convince him at all? “You need a doctor.” Cassie shook her head, “Worse than before.” She thought it was just a tad more important.
Ephram shook his head. "They have irons at the dress shop," he said, lifting the bottle in a toast. "She cauterized it." Ephram tucked his hand in tighter against his ribs as he drank again, then gave a long, gusty sigh. "You know what, Cassie -- I ain't the old man, I don't control you. Do whatever you want to do. If you reckon my throwin' a bottle across the room is the worst thing what's happened tonight, then I don't know what to say." He started to stand, then slipped a little back down, shutting his eyes and raising his eyebrows as he regained his equilibrium.
Cassie couldn’t help the slight cringe that came to her face at the mention of cauterization. So the bleeding stopped, it didn’t mean Ephram looked any better off because of it. “That’s not what I said.” Cassie pointed at him firmly, “Jesus Christ Ephram they handed me your finger like it was a dropped dollar bill. Believe me I’m more upset over that then the stupid decanter. Stay sitting.” She scoffed, “Just stay.” 
She walked towards the door, pulling it open and calling for the ever loyal but exhausted housekeeper. All Mrs. Hughs needed to do was get a doctor, Miguel or someone else discreet. Cassie didn’t care. “No tell me.” Cassie spoke again when she turned back to Ephram at his desk, “I can confirm those government biddings. We can get back at Petal that way. We can shut her down if we play cards right.”
Ephram rocked the bottle against his knee and opened his eyes a sliver, enough to watch Cassie talking to their housekeeper and the look of horror that crossed Mrs. Hudson's face, the hand that pressed to her chest in response to the news. "I'll call the doctor right away," she said, and then Ephram could swear he heard her murmur, "...poor lamb," before she bustled away. 
He huffed thickly, sluicing back more of the rum. "Lamb," he repeated. "She hasn't called me that since I was five." He stood, muttering and waving off Cassie's dire warning sound to make his way to the leather-upholstered sofa and lie down on it, head propped against the arm. "Isa de la Vega's been getting information out of Councilor Brindle about it," he said, shifting his hand along his ribs. "I was at Clair myself talkin' to her about it. She said there was only one higher bid than ours, and now we know who it is."
Cassie “She adores you, everything considered.” Cassie surmised about Ms. Hughs. She pursed her lips in irritation when Ephram moved across the room against her strict direction, but it’s not like she could stop him. Instead, she approached the bar and poured herself a small glass of gin. Cassie took a large swig, squinting down the burn of the liquor before nodding along with Ephram, “Whores are usually persuasive. Well good. At least I know you had a good time before Petal’s meeting.” Cassie raised her glass to him before taking another sip. “She could have snipped something worse so all things considered-“ The gin swirled in her glass for a moment before Cassie stole another glance to her brother, wrinkling her nose, “Sorry, too soon?”
Ephram waved the rum bottle in Cassie's direction. "Naw, go ahead, make all the jokes you want," he said, letting one boot heel clunk down onto the floor. "It's funny. Everyone who Petal Popovitch tells is gonna find it funny, eh? So why not you." Ephram considered drinking more, but he could feel the rum he'd already drunk churning thin and hot in his belly, so he set the bottle down on the floor and blinked slowly at the crumpled handkerchief on the table. "You know," Ephram said, squinting one eye at Cassie, "I'm apparently a good kisser. That whore told me. So you know it must be true." 
He reached out and slapped his hand down over the kerchief, dragging it across the table to himself, but didn't lift his palm to look at his dismembered finger. Ephram gave a crooked smile, his eyes pained and glassy. "Good thing Kingfisher's the only fucking thing I'll ever be married to," he said. "No big loss, then, a ring finger."
Cassie “I don’t think Popovitch is funny.” Cassie shook her head, “I think I’m funny.” She looked at him a little sadly though, it wasn’t like she was trying to make him feel worse than he already did. She finished her glass of gin and arched a brow at her brother’s muses over the prostitute back at Clair de Lune. “Sure…” She murmured, placing her glass back on the bar. Her eyes lingering on the gin, Cassie couldn’t decide if she wanted a second helping. The mention of marriage though caught her attention and she turned sharply, frowning deeply at Ephram. “Only if you want. With the war over, it wouldn’t be pointless.” She abandoned the bar and crouched in front of him then, nudging his knee, “Is a ring finger really what’s got you all melancholy?”
Ephram lifted his bleary gaze to his adopted sister. "Don't be ridiculous," he chided her softly. "The only marriage prospect I ever had was you, Cassie. You know that." His stare, hard to read even on a regular basis, was completely inscrutable now, hazed over by rum and acute suffering.
Cassie hung her head at Ephram’s response. “Right.” Cassie patted his knee before standing again, “But we know how that would look. Come on Ephram, you’re drunk and sad.” She crossed her arms, keeping eye contact with that unreadable stare for only a few prolonged moments before having to back away.
"Right," Ephram repeated. He closed his hand over the handkerchief and its gory contents, getting to his feet and crossing over to the fireplace -- tossing it in without another thought. The stink of burned cloth and charring meat sizzled up into the air, and Ephram silently pitched sideways to sprawl on the floor, passed out cold. His left hand slid out from where he'd been holding it tight against him, wrapped in a stained strip of torn white cotton that clotted over the mutilated hole of his missing finger.
Poor Mrs. Hudson sounded thoroughly flapped when she called Miguel, and Miguel had thought she was unflappable. Good thing he was never that far from the damn Kingfisher house. It almost seemed like they had him on retainer, which they didn't, but hopefully the look was enough to keep people from bothering him too much. On the other hand, didn't that mean that their competitors would go out of their way to bother him? Jeez, he had to convince Iann to leave this forsaken town. He was hustled into the house by Mrs. Hudson and shown to Ephram, prostrate on the ground in front of the fireplace. Well shit.
Miguel crouched down, black bag already open. What a rush job. Not that he would do anything differently if he only had... whatever Ephram had available. It was a reminder that Ephram too had been a soldier and seen the field. Miguel sighed. It was a good thing Essie had cleaned him out, it meant that his bag was full again. And he had enough supplies and patience to clean the finger right, to open it back up, take the sliver of bone out at the joint, and use the skin that left to make a flap that he could sew up nice and pretty. Ephram was already unconscious, so he didn't need to waste any analgesics on him yet.
Ephram moved one foot slowly along the floor as he came dully back to consciousness, his head pounding with a thumping pain that radiated out from between his eyes. Like he'd been felled with a goddamn sledgehammer. "No morphine," he mumbled to the medic who was working on him. "Stitch me up fast, doc. There's a mixed unit headin' in from the cold tonight and we need to give em cover."
That worked for Miguel. Well, he would rather no mixed unit be on the way. And he would rather his careful work not be made useless if Ephram got himself killed. "Just about done." He finished up his stitch and asked Mrs. Hudson to go get some ice. "I would suggest resting, you probably passed out from blood loss, and I don't have an easy fix for that except food, water, and rest. But I know it's a moot point if you have your mind set to something."
Ephram blinked, frowning. Ice? Food, water, rest? What the hell sort of crazy field medic had his battalion been saddled with, where did he think they were? "Corporal, did you get knocked on the head shipping out? I know you don't--" The rustle of skirts and the crackle of the fire suddenly resolved in Ephram's brain, and he recalled in a rush where he was. Not in a trench in France, but racked out on the floor of his father's office, in his own home. "Jesus," he said, his first instinct to snatch his mutilated hand away from Miguel.
Miguel let Ephram pull away. The look in those hazy blue eyes was all too familiar. "Count down from ten, focus on one thing you can see, one thing you can hear, one thing you can feel." It was a trick he had learned on his way home, and it had helped countless soldiers. Maybe for decades before this war, maybe centuries. Miguel didn't think it was a new idea, a new invention, another stepping stone brought on by superior gun power and barely imaginable violence.
Ephram scrabbled up to a sitting position, breathing fast. "What did you do?" he asked Miguel, then pushed away from him, scooting back a foot or so from the doctor. Ephram didn't have any other recourse than to do what he'd been told, though, so he counted all in one breathless stream: "tennineighsevenssisfiforthreetwone. Can hear--" he held up his right hand next to his head, forefinger tapping the air, "Mrs. Hudson." The housekeeper hurried in, giving Miguel a bowlful of freshly-chipped ice and making a dismayed noise at the state of Ephram. "Can see the ice," he said. Ephram shut his eyes for a moment and swallowed, slowing his breathing. "Can't feel my god damned finger."
"You can feel the lack of god damned finger," Miguel pointed out, maybe unnecessarily. There was a second of silence and Miguel's dumbass put a hand on Ephram's shoulder to steady him. "You okay?"
Ephram slanted a look at Miguel. "Funny," he said, wiping sweat from his face. "You and my sister should take your act on the road." Ephram chucked his chin in the direction of the fire, saying, "--too bad I already threw my fucking cut-off finger in there, or you coulda taken it with you for a prop." 
He levered himself up from the floor, almost losing balance and falling back down again -- except that Mrs. Hudson moved in, helping Ephram up with the sorts of comforting murmurs that older women tended to give to their very young charges. "I'm fine, thank you, Mrs. Hudson," Ephram said when he was up. "Doctor. I'm fine. How much?"
Miguel nodded. "The same as a bullet wound." It had taken about the same amount of work as digging through a shoulder for a missing bullet. What would Ephram do without him? Maybe Miguel would refuse next time Mrs. Hudson called. "Did I tell you to stay safe last time? Will you ever listen to anything I say, Mr. Kingfisher?" Miguel cleaned up his supplies and started toward the door. If there was one thing he did trust Ephram to do, it was settle his bill.
                                                   ===**===**===
Ephram turned his left hand back and forth, flexing his fingers slightly in the buttery-soft kidskin gloves that had been delivered by a Watts runner that morning. Of course Freddie had already known about the ignoble depletion of Ephram's manual ability -- which stung, despite the fact that Ephram had known Petal Popovitch would waste no time in spreading it around that she'd knocked Kingfisher down a significant peg, despite the fact he'd even predicted as much to Cassie -- but still, Ephram found himself grateful. Even for the arch little note in Freddie's copperplate handwriting: included a wax digit to compensate for the indignity, darling ~ one setback needn't ruin the fit of your gloves.
Ephram headed downstairs after the final touches to his grooming, Mrs. Hudson meeting him at the bottom of the stairs with a cup of tea and a popover. Her grey eyes were sympathetic, shades of the housekeeper who'd brought him back tin snap toys after every Sunday's marketing when he'd been a child, but Ephram didn't invite any spoken commisserations. "Is Miss Caird in my office?" he asked, and Mrs. Hudson nodded, taking back the empty teacup as Ephram collected his popover. 
Breaking off a bit of it and tucking it into his mouth, Ephram strode into his office to greet Essie with a nod, saying, "Mrs. Hudson's brought you tea, good. Don't mind me breakfasting as we talk. Busy schedules, as I'm sure you're familiar with, eh?"
Essie sat uncomfortably in the office, teacup in hand but no liquid had been drained. She was tense, the night the kingfishers sister had gone missing had been a bad night for her personally as well. Seems her offering her services to the gang had caught some unwanted attention from some of her other clients. Ex clients now, many of them not being alive anymore so to speak. A shoot out against an arms dealer in the midst of a deal was not a smart move. "Very familiar." she agrees nodding in greeting, still holding her cup in her hands and refusing to drink. "You requested my company?"
Ephram sat against his father's desk, continuing to tear his popover into small pieces and munch on them. "You provided service to Slap Jacks that you hadn't been contracted for," he said, then added with a slight smile, "--in fact, before you'd even been formally contracted to us at all. Now, I'm pleased that you stepped in to help, Essie, I'm very much pleased, but I'm curious." Ephram propped his elbow against his knee, leaning forward slightly. "Why did you? We'd already conducted our business with the weapons shipment, your committment had been fulfilled by that point."
Essie purses her lips looking up at him. She was correct, she had no formal ties to the Kingfishers and Watts aside from a 'show of good faith' shipment. All she had been thinking at the time was that she wanted an in with them. Unfortunately that in had been at a bad time for the family, she hadn't expected it to come to much considering there'd been a kidnapping and they'd left so abruptly. "I was around. I'd been in the house, leaving when I spotted Voeman. We watched your sister be bundled into a car and when he started the questioning I was there. So I provided a little assistance."
Ephram chewed his warm bread from one side of his mouth to the other, contemplating Essie and her answer. "You're a ... straight shooter, aren't you, Miss Caird." A corner of his mouth twitched up at his small joke. "I can't imagine you do this sort of thing on a normal basis, hm? An up-and-coming arms dealer like yourself, you need to maintain a pretty delicate place for yourself among all of us prospective customers. After all, your bullets don't discriminate over whose blood they spill, do they?"
Essie simply looks back at him, he was all small smiles and jokes but her eyes flit to his gloved hands subtly. She wondered if it was an act he was putting on just for her. "I am." she agrees however. "They don't usually." she admits looking up at him. "But what with recent events seems my 'show of faith' hasn't gone down too well with a few of my other clients. Aligning with you even the slightest amount has shifted the ballgame for me, that night in particular wasn't very fortunate on either of our parts."
It took an act of will not to instinctively move his ruined hand out of sight when Ephram saw Essie glance at them, no doubt wondering why he was wearing gloves in the first place. But he managed to keep his hands where they were, turning the last morsel of his popover over in his fingers. "We did manage to bring my sister back home safe," Ephram said. "That was very fortunate. And you played a part in that, no matter how peripheral." 
Getting up, Ephram went around the desk and set his remaining bit of breakfast down on its polished surface so he could open a drawer, taking out five tight rolls of bills and lining them up next to his breadcrumbs. "That's two hundred dollarpounds for the guns you gave to me ... and Watts," Ephram said, "and three hundred more for a case of dynamite and to hold you on retainer for Slap Jacks. Exclusively." Not Watts. In some things, it was still a matter of serving one master only.
Essie purses her lips and nods at the mention that he'd managed to get his sister back, the word safe indicating to her that no harm had come of the woman. As money was placed on the table she sets her teacup down sitting up straighter. She knew it would come to business, there was no other reason to call her in, the social graces they'd just shared showed the woman that he was feeling generous, that he was willing to talk rather than get right to it as he had before. "What happened to a show of faith?" she asks him watching the money line up in front of her. The word exclusively has her eyes flickering up to his. "I can obtain you the dynamite. But you'll need to elaborate on what exclusivity you want."
Ephram finished off his popover, mouth a little full as he said, "You showed us faith. You also showed your mettle when a need arose. I would say that requites the standards of an evaluation period, wouldn't you?" He sat down in the big leather char behind the desk, putting his feet up on one corner of it (and if that pose allowed him to slip his left hand down out of sight, well -- that was just a happy coincidence). "Explosives and and incindiaries, you can sell to whoever you want; old school weapons too, if you deal in those. I don't care who's outfitted with brass knuckles and blackjacks. But guns? Those you'll sell only to Slap Jacks."
Essie doesn't reach for the money just yet, though her fingers are twitching to take it. Her second in command of the operation she ran hadn't been too pleased with her decision to allow the munitions away for free, but she was the boss and she hadn't allowed him to argue with her too much. She'd felt it a blow as well considering how much the shipment would have gathered. To be offered compensation now that she'd already adjusted to the loss would be incredible. But these things had to be discussed. "My operations is mainly firearms Mr. Kingfisher. That's a big ask."
Ephram nodded. "It is," he said, meeting her eyes and holding her gaze. "But that's our business, isn't it, Essie? Big asks, big risks, big rewards. You don't last long by playing it conservative." His tone was still hovering somewhere near friendly, but Ephram's flat smile made it clear this was the outer boundary on what he was going to offer.
Essie folds her hands in her lap. "Aligning with you so blatantly will bring my operations under more fire than has already occurred." she spoke meeting his eyes, unafraid but thinking quickly. "I will have to withdraw from many clients to do what you're asking, I'm sure you're aware." She falls quietly and thinks about the offer. To be on retainer would be a steady workload, more reliable. And yet there were so many dangers that came with it. "The night your sister was snatched I had a deal raided. It was to show me what aligning myself with you would mean. We came out on top, they were a bunch of fucking idiots to try. Can I ask of you one thing? To halt dealings with others I'll need a little more muscle than firepower. Just to have it run...smoother."
Ephram slapped his good hand down on the heavy desk, the sound reverberating through the office. "See? I knew you'd see reason. I like you, Miss Caird." He pointed at Essie, a few jabs of his finger in the air before he nodded at the money. "Take it. I'll send you a dozen Jacks so you can work them in shifts of six on at a time, night and day. Will that be enough to start, d'you think?" It would have to be; the question was a mere play at formal politeness. A dozen Jacks was all that Ephram was willing to spare. From what he'd seen of Essie, even if she wanted more than that, she'd more likely than not take what she could get up front and then prove that she deserved more later.
Essie smiled for the first time that day when he enthusiastically pointed at her. Ephram was an odd man. "I'll still be dealing in other munitions to some clients." she reminds. "I still aim to make good profits, although I will do as you ask. No more firearms to anyone other than my men and yours." She had meant a few men for the deals themselves but if he was willing to offer up manpower to the actual operation who was she to say no. Her second couldn't say no to an offer like that. She reaches forward and lifts the cash, tucking some of the money into her boot before placing the rest in her handbag. She offers her hand and then thinks again, shifting her hand to her lips and spitting in it as he had done before.
Ephram swung his feet down and stood, clasping Essie's hand in his own. It didn't have quite the same slap to it as a gloveless handshake, but he hadn't figured out a way around certain traditional aspects of social interaction yet. And this was still the way that mad bad gangsters sealed a deal. "In four hours," he said, "go to Kingfisher Soapworks. Find the foreman, Murphy -- he'll be a redhead with a face like a fucking shovel -- and he'll secure your men for you." Ephram pumped Essie's hand once more before letting go and re-taking his seat, a clear sign that their meeting had concluded.
Essie shook her hand with his. "Tell the man to expect a few people. I'll need to introduce a few of mine to yours so we can keep both at a little more ease." When their hands drop she finally moves, draining the teacup set out for her in one gulp. "I'll take my leave." with a nod she heads for the door.
Cassie let Ephram sit with Essie Caird alone. He was already irritated enough with her, she wasn't going to push much of anything. Just be happy she wasn't in Petal Popovitch's clutches and spend time with her kids. Cassie was sipping a cup of coffee, Albie settled on one hip as she walked slowly through the manor. "Why don't you play with your dolls Addie?" She suggested to the toddler who was still running around with her popguns. Cassie was getting tired of the noise.
"No one can get me." Addie laughed, brushing past Ms. Hughs legs as she jumped on the couch to perch at the window sill, her toy pressed against the glass. ""Someone is out there Mama." The redhead glanced back, and Cassie moved quickly - pulling the curtain aside. she sighed, correcting unimpressed. "It's just Joey. Stay here."
Cassie walked out of the front door, clicking it shut behind her. "Voeman." She called, lifting the hand with her half empty coffee cup, "What are you doing?"
Joey would probably look like a straight stalker to anyone observing him from the outside of the situation. He was skulking around the Kingfisher manor, hunched shoulders weighed down by a long trench coat, face cast in shadow by his flat cap like always, moving slow and deliberate as he kept his head on a swivel. When he saw Addie look out the window at him, he quickly tried to turn away, but he’d clearly been caught as Cassie joined him outside. “Those Skull Boys mean business,” he said plainly, even though her tone made his blood both boil and run ice cold all at once somehow. “You said they were watching the kids, so I’m watching for them.”
Cassie set her mug down on one of the stone bolsters before descending the steps to stand in front of Joey directly. "I told you you didn't need to do that." Cassie felt like she was constantly repeating herself, "Don't snoop around like this. A little girl noticed. Jesus, if the other Jacks don't realize who you are you'll get shot." She readjusted Albie in her arms glancing back to the house, "Look I think the only thing you have going for you right now is the fact that you got the guns back to safety. The arms dealer is in the house right now."
Joey knew Cassie was right, but he was absolutely consumed with keeping Cassie and her kids safe. It was silly. He was pathetic. It was all true. And hell, maybe in the back of his mind he was hoping a Slap Jack that didn’t know better might cap him and put him out of his goddamn misery. “But here I am, doing it anyway,” he said, taking in the sight of her with Albie rested on her hip. He wasn’t used to seeing such a motherly visage of her, and it threw him for a bit of a loop. 
“That ones Albert, right?” He asked. He was pretty sure he was correct. Cassie was as good at keeping her kids hidden away from just about everyone. “Hiya Albie,” he cooed, taking a couple steps closer as he waved at the little boy, who giggled back at him. He then straightened up and cleared his throat. “I think my only real saving grace is Ephram was too busy with his lost finger to kill me.” He was still expecting it at any moment, really. “I’m going to keep you safe until he takes me out of the equation.”
"Clearly." Cassie responded, glancing behind Joey's shoulder and scanning the rest of the front walk up and lawn. If there were any other Slap Jacks on patrol, they hid themselves a lot better than Joey had. She blinked, a little surprised that Joey knew the younger baby's name at all. She was trying to keep the boy a bit more seperate from Slap Jack business - Addie had weedled her way in the hearts of everyone early on. Cassie didn't have much of a choice for her. "That's right." She nodded, smoothing Albie's soft fine hair and unable to hide her slight smile at his giggle. "He's a good boy." Cassie frowned though at Joey's next comments, giving him a harder look, "Don't keep giving him a reason." It was a slight scolding. Sure she was short and cold with him, but it was mostly for both of their own saftey's. She bit her lip, it was hard to keep bottled up faced with both of them together now, "At least for Albie. He's yours. You know."
Joey felt his stomach do a flip in his belly as Cassie spoke, and his jaw literally dropped open. “Cassie, don’t fuck with me...” But he knew she wasn’t. The timeline made sense. Is Albie the reason she’d ended things? He took a couple more steps toward them, all but closing the gap between them. “Can I?” he asked, gesturing toward the small baby boy.
Cassie looked at Joey with an unamused frown. Joking around about paternity was pretty low, even for her. She was glad Joey didn't isist upon it. At his request, Cassie felt her grip on the younger baby tighten just a little. It was an instinct. Revealing this information to Joey could have been a poor mistake, but it had also been a moment of weakness for her. She was just tired of Joey being so god damn downtrodden. "Sure." Cassie finally muttered, carefully passing Albie off to him, gaze ever watchful.
Joey saw Cassie tighten her grip on the boy, but she eventually handed him over, and he carefully took the child into his arms. He was heavier than he looked, and Joey couldn’t keep the smile off his face as tears welled in his eyes. He had a son. “Hey there, big guy,” Joey cooed, receiving another giggle in return. He brought his lips to the little boys cheek and have him a kiss. “You’re gonna have your daddy’s cheekbones, I can see it,” he joked. He didn’t want to give him back, but he could see Cassie was anxious with Albie in the arms of another, even if he’d help make the boy. “Maybe you wouldn’t be so jumpy if you got him away from all this,” Joey suggested. Albie has curled up against his chest, so he held him there, rubbing the boys back in small, gentle circles. “I don’t care what you say about not mixing business with pleasure and all that hogwash, but we HAD something. And have something beautiful to show for it.”
Cassie "I have nothing without the business. Kingfisher and Co." Cassie explained. It was more than she owed Joey, but she might as well make it clear for him. "I could be on the streets, or dead. So no. I'm not just going to step away at your suggestion." She was already getting stoney again, but Cassie culdn't help it. She laughed at Joey's sentimental proclamtions. "Yeah? And you have a wife. Tell her about us. Everything. Including Albert. Watch what happens."
Joey “I would tell her,” he said indignantly, though he really had no right to be. “I’d tell her everything.” Whether that was true didn’t matter in the moment. He believed himself as he said it. He’d never stopped feeling for Cassie what he’d felt back then, and in the moment, holding his son, that was all that mattered to him. But with a sigh, he wordlessly handed Albie back to her, giving him a soft kiss on the forehead as he did.
                                                  ===**===**===
Essie had not been pleased with the deal they had struck. She might have acted as thought she were willing to participate but truthfully she had no intention of taking her operation exclusive, especially not to the kingfishers. Their business was muddled after the death of the last head of the family. Ephram trying to carry on, but all previous dealings were tense under new management not to mention the new dealings with herself on the rocks. 
That's why the night Ephrams sister had been taken, once she had returned to the house only to find out the man had been having a meeting of his own. Since that day the beautiful woman had been under Essies thumb. Paying much higher than the Kingfisher to obtain the information not only on what he was interested in, but also the man himself. The woman had come to one of the warehouses to be paid that day. Essie smiling at the woman. "Thank you for letting me know." she hums in approval.
Isa was approached by Alessa Caird the day after Ephram's last visit. First she pretended she didn't have any idea what the woman was talking about, but all the woman had to mention was that she would be paying more money for Isa to start talking. She briefly considered her safety, but the woman was an arms dealer. If anyone could make sure she came out of this okay, it was the woman with the big guns. And if she could continue to give information to Ephram and take money from him too, she wasn't going to complain. Essie and her were in one of the warehouses, Isa coming in to take her well earned money. She nodded with a smile. "Happy to be of service," she said. "Any other information you need, you know where to find me. Now, you promised me a payment today." She wasn't a fan of chitchat, not when it was in the middle of creepy warehouses.
Essie had encouraged Isa to feed Ephram how hard it was to get information from the councilor, while telling her the real information. She assured the other she wouldn't skimp on the price just because she was also getting paid by the kingfisher. Rolling her eyes the arms dealer moves around to produce a healthy envelope of cash. "this should more than cover you for this past week."
Ephram wasn't generally in the habit of meeting his associates on their turf if he could help it, but -- that had been a privilege he'd held under the old world order, when his father had been around with all the force and fury of his decades in the game for Ephram to prevail upon. The changing of the guards had given him and Cassie freedom to push the business in new directions, yes, but it had also knocked them down a few rungs in the estimations of many gangland figures. Ones with influence and power. So despite his misgivings, he'd come to see Essie Caird; hoping that catching the young arms dealer unawares would tip the balance in his favour.
Ephram did not, however, at all expect to see Isabel de la Vega there. And even more unexpected -- money changing hands. "I didn't disturb something important, did I?" he called to the two women, approaching them with a touch more caution than initially. Fuck. This was a complication he didn't need.
Isa took the envelope full of cash happily and wanted to quickly flip through it, see if everything she was expecting was in the envelope, when Ephram walked in. Of all people, everyone in this damn town, it had to be Ephram who showed up. Of course. Things were going way too well. 
Isa didn't bat an eye, however, she just turned to Ephram with a sweet smile. "Nothing that couldn't be disturbed. If you pay, you could even join us in the fun. If Essie would be into that, too, of course," she said, stepping closer to the woman, hoping she would go along with the play. Neither of them would want Ephram to know what was going on here.
Essie had failed to mention to the woman that she'd been double dealing behind the kingfishers back. It hadn't seemed necessary to inform Isa that she was likely not to be in Ephrams good books for very long considering the type of information she was gathering. It was sweet how Isa came up with a lie on the stop to hopefully settle the man, but Essie knew better. He hadn't been asked here, he was here to have a little 'chat' about his missing men. 
A smile makes it way onto her face nonetheless, playing along if only to buy time for her own operation workers to catch on to what might be going down moments from then. "Can't just be you and the councilor getting off now can it Mr Kingfisher?"
Ephram looked from one to the other with a considering glint in his dark blue eyes, and then down, nodding. "Yeah," he said. "Yeah, that sounds about right." Reaching into his suit jacket (brand new! a Freddie-sounding part of his brain said mournfully), Ephram drew the gun strapped under his arm, taking a step back so he could keep a bead on both women. "After all," he said, his voice rising a little, hoarse, "I'm the one getting fucked here, eh?"
Isa could see that Ephram was suspicious but still she hoped he would buy the lie until the moment he pulled the gun out from under his jacket, holding it onto the both of them. Isa's stomach dropped at the sight of the gun. This was not how all of this was supposed to go. "Ephram, please, you're misunderstanding something here," she said, her voice pleading as she slid from next to Essie to standing behind the woman. She couldn't get shot here, damn it.
Essie knew this was what was coming and didn't hesitate to reach over and flip the lights on above them. That would hopefully alert her men to move in closer to her, they never turned the lights on. It would mean something was wrong by the switch. It wouldn't take them long to get here. Pulling her own gun she nods slowly. "Of course you're the one being fucked. Did you expect me to take a deal so easy? One that would limit my profits so much? You're an idiot. Even before you asked me to be under your thumb I had this delightful woman intercepting information for me. I wonder if you know how profitable it is to sell information. Seems it's almost as good as dealing in munitions. A little whisper here, a passed note there and all of a sudden your competition is champing at the bit to talk to me, make a deal for what exactly it is you're interested in. Ms De la vega here has been feeding you half the information for a week now. Ever since your sister got snatched. Had you truly not noticed how poor the information was?" she tuts as she hears footsteps, if a fight were to break out it was going to be soon. "It really doesn't do to sleep with your informants you know Ephram. She's beautiful maybe, but perhaps she'd have had more respect for you if you could keep your dick to yourself."
Ephram felt a sick churning in his gut as Essie spoke, the guileless baby face she wore taking on a sudden new dimension. He had been an idiot, taken in by her seeming newness and desire to prove herself, by her jumping in to help Joey in trying to keep Cassie from being kidnapped. Jesus. If they somehow manage to blow your brains out over this fucking warehouse floor you'll have brought it on yourself, sunshine, Ephram thought bitterly. 
"You should have taken being under my thumb, Essie," he said, a muscle in his tight jaw jumping as he worked out how this was going to go down. "It would have been preferable to being under the fucking ground."
Ephram fired off a round into Essie's kneecap, stepping forward at the same time to backhand Isa brutally across the face.
Isa wanted to strangle Essie the moment she started talking. "Oh for fuck's sake," she muttered. this was not supposed to go down like this. She was supposed to get the money and get out of here, not die in a stupid, creepy, dark warehouse. She thought about trying to run, but she wasn't an idiot - the moment she's turn her back on Ephram, he would just shoot her. But what else was she supposed to do? 
Ephram made the decision for her, though, when he shot Essie and backhanded her on the face so hard she fell onto the ground. Her face was burning as she pushed herself back up onto her foot looked into Ephram's eyes for a moment before she spit onto the ground in front of him, her wounded pride being stronger than her common sense.
Essie was a thrill seeker, there was no other reason the woman was in this business. She lived for the money but also the thrill of watching Ephrams face as he digested his mistake. Perhaps she would die here, she was going to try her damnedest not to, but she might, there was always the chance and that's what make this business so thrilling. As soon as one shot rang out, her leg bucking underneath her, more shots started to resound around the warehouse, the Jacks were now up against her second and their men. Tears sprang to her eyes as she hit the floor but she didn't let it halt her, she shoot out, her aim off center for the first time in her life, aiming for his face but rather the shot going towards his shoulder. She ignored the woman on the ground beside her, she was useless now.
Ephram jolted back with the force of the shot to his shoulder, but it didn't halt him; he kept moving forward, emptying four chambers into Essie's chest until he was standing over her body. "Fucking waste," he muttered, and then ducked instinctively as one of the shots being traded between Jacks and Cairds zipped a little too close. "As for you--" Ephram closed his hand around Isa's throat, walking her backwards (her feet hardly touching the ground, with his greater height) until she hit one of the posts holding up the rampway. He leaned in close, face a cold mask of anger. 
"Tell me something true, Isa."
Isa regretted what she did as soon as she's done it. Maybe if she tried to run away before he started shooting, she would have gotten a better chance. But Ephram wasn't playing games, he shot Essie and then went for her throat. She grabbed at his fingers, digging her nails into his skin and trying to pry his fingers off of her throat to get some air into her lungs, but his grip was too strong, while also trying to stand on the ground, but he was too tall and only the tip of her shoes touched the ground. 
He leaned closer and she reached for his throat, trying to choke him into releasing her throat, hoping she could get out this way. "I hope you die," she spat at his question, her voice hoarse, ragged and low.
Ephram stared back at Isa, a corner of his lip twitching into a faint snarl. "Well," he said, "you'll get your wish someday, darling. But today it's come for you." He snugged the muzzle of the gun to the hollow of Isa's throat, and loosened his grip on her as he pulled the trigger.
Ephram stepped back to let Isa's body slump to the ground, wiping the blood on his face with his coat sleeve as he sank into the shadows beneath the upper ramp and reloaded his revolver. 
The Jacks, he was certain, were gaining the upper hand; after all, Essie had armed them well.
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djinmer4 · 6 years
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Jeepers Creepers, Date Peepers (Ultimate AU)
“Well, this is awkward.”  Jamie and Meggan glanced over.  In the spirit of more inter-organizational cooperation, the X-Men and Excalibur had agreed to a brief three-month exchange of personnel.  So Faiza and the Black Knight were off to Winchester and Excalibur received Dazzler and Angel in return.  Everything had gone well until Kurt had shown up.
“We’re not,” Dazzler’s voice could have cut bone, it was so sharp.  “Expected to work with him, are we?”
“Er, no?”  As a matter of fact, they weren’t.  As part of the profiles that Cyclops sent over, he’d included the instruction that except for end-of-the-world emergencies, they would not be working with Kurt Wagner.  “Did I miss something?” asked Jamie.
The indigo man ignored them.  “Kitty will be here in a minute, she just had to wash off the grunge from our last mission.”  And from the smell coming from Kurt, the ‘grunge’ was probably a lot of blood.  That wasn’t a good sign.
Fortunately, Jimmy and Kitty showed up at that moment.  The other two X-Men lit up and brushed past Nightcrawler like he didn’t exist.  Dazzler even pulled the younger woman into a tight hug.  “Kitty!  Have things been good so far?”  Then sotto voce, “How are you handling the monster anyway?”
“He’s been remarkably well behaved.  So I’ve had Excalibur prepare a single room for the two of you.  Is that alright or will Jimmy here be clearing out another bedroom on the fly?”  The four X-Men went past Jamie and Meggan.  Kurt said nothing, simply turning around and heading for the gym.
Meggan and Jamie exchanged glances.  There was an interesting story they were missing here.
“You kidnapped her?  No wonder Dazzler wants nothing to do with you.”  Meggan glanced at the bottle in Kurt’s hand.  The German probably wasn’t drunk but he was definitely depressed.
“I already apologized to everyone involved in the incident.  What I’d really like is to do something to make up for my behavior before but I don’t know how.  What do you give a kidnap victim to make them feel better?”
“The kidnapper’s head on a silver platter,” said Kitty heartlessly.
“Kitty . . . “ Meggan drawled warningly.
“Meggan,” Kitty replied in the same tone.  “You weren’t the one who rescued Alison from him.  If Alison doesn’t want to forgive him, we can’t force her to.”
“Wait, you’re the one who rescued Dazzler?”  Meggan looked back and forth between the two newest Excalibur members.  “And you still agreed to work with him when you transferred here?”
“He used to be a friend.  I wasn’t quite ready to simply throw him out on the street.  Then again, I wasn’t the one kidnapped, so I’m certainly not going to force Alison to deal with him.”
“Why’d you kidnap her anyway?”  The blonde looked at the indigo man.
“I wasn’t in a very good place at the time.  I’d pretty much burned my bridges with my best friend over his homosexuality.  I was taking Banshee to enhance my mutation.  Alison nearly died on a mission.  I thought I could at least keep her safe.  And I was so lonely.”
“And instead you lost everything.”  Meggan sighed.  She actually sided with Kitty on this issue but she desperately needed something to take her mind off of Brian.  Maybe she could spare some time to help them out.
“Meggan, how’d you get them to take the tickets in the first place?”  asked Kitty, peeking over the roof with a pair of binoculars.
“I told them it was a little extra thank-you on my part.  Compensation for being willing to be near . . . well,” The blonde made a vague gesture to Kurt.  He made a face but didn’t argue back.  “Still, I’m a little surprised.  Worthington likes punk rock?”
“No, Dazzler likes punk rock.  She had a band before she joined the X-Men.  Worthington likes pop rock and country but he doesn’t feel as strongly about music as she does.”  Kitty passed the binoculars to Meggan and slid down to sit on the floor.  “People, why are we here?  This is honestly creepy and stalkerish.”
“I’m here because I want to see how their date goes if they had a good time.”  The older woman peered through the glass.
“Und I’m here to make sure the two of them aren’t bothered.  England’s better to its mutants than the US is but there are still mutaphobes out there and Warren isn’t hiding his wings tonight.”  Yellow eyes narrowed at Kitty.  “What are you here for?”
“To make sure neither of you does anything stupid.”  She closed her eyes and sighed.  Meggan checked the time.  “It’s almost eight.  They’d better start moving if-no they’re coming out of the club now.  They must intend to walk to the restaurant.”
“And there’s a guy with a Humanity First armband.  Give me a second.”  Kurt disappeared in a cloud of golden smoke.
“Don’t kill anyone,” hissed Kitty although he was already gone.
Another few minutes and he was back again.  “I dumped him into the Thames, albeit close enough to an access ladder so he can climb out.”
“Dear God, thank you for giving Nightcrawler a sense of restraint.  It’s a few years too late but better late than never.”  The Jewish girl offered a prayer of thanks.
“Come on, you two, we need to follow them.”  Meggan grabbed their hands while Kurt teleported them to another rooftop near the restaurant.
“Meggan,” began Kurt.  “Is this your favorite restaurant?”
“No,” she said.  “Brian and I liked Indian food better.  But Angel and Dazzler are American, so I thought a Chinese Restaurant would be more familiar.  Besides, Lee Ho Fooks is famous.”
“I’m getting hungry,” complained Kitty.  “I didn’t eat before we did this.”
Kurt looked around.  “There’s a street vendor selling fish-and-chips on the corner there.  I could bamf down and bring back dinner for us.”  Both women made a face.  “Kurt, I’m surprised no one’s told you this before, but brimstone isn’t really an appetizing smell.  I’ll fly down and get us something.”  Meggan waved off any offers of payment and quickly jumped off the building, leaving Kitty and Kurt to watch the couple.
“Why didn’t you tell any of us?”  Kitty wasn’t looking at him, instead watching her friends talk.
“I . . . well, first it was because of Piotr.  You were all siding with him and while you were right, I resented all of you.  Then . . . you were in mourning Kitty.  I couldn’t dump my problems on you like that.  By the time you were out of it, you’d gone off to Utopia and were with Jimmy by that point.  Maybe I should have tried harder to keep in touch with you.  But I stand by my decision.  You had the weight of the world on your shoulders and you didn’t need me to add to it.”
“I’m sorry I wasn’t as good a friend as I should have been.”
He snorted.  “You rescued Dazzler after I kidnapped her.  You supported Piotr when I wouldn’t.  Maybe you weren’t perfect but you were a better friend than I was.  Oh, they’re coming out!”  They had to move just as Meggan came up with their dinner.
“What are they doing?” wondered Kitty.
“I don’t know,” Meggan whispered back.  “I only got them into the club and set-up the reservations.  Everything else is up to them.”
The spies followed the lovers until they were crossing the Millenium Bridge.  There, Warren took Alison in his arms and kissed her.  His wings came out and with one powerful stroke, they were in the air, still kissing.  Kitty hastily grabbed her to co-conspirators (why was Meggan trying to take pictures!) and pulled them away from the bridge.  “Well, I think we can say the date was a rousing success.  Now let’s give these two some privacy.”  Meggan groaned but Kurt silently wrapped his arms around both of them and teleported back to the home base.
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sonjaeson · 3 years
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Week 5 and 6
Hello! Sorry it took me a long time update this series of unfortunate events lol! Kidding aside yeah I apologize for being not on time seriously. I don’t want to make any excuses and just be straightforward, YEP! I’m actually tired of making this a weekly update shit about my life but I must conquer and finish this what I’ve started to lezzzz gow! Before anything else this might be short but atleast I doing the best I can!
One of the highlights would be my new phone! HUAWEI P40 PRO. This might my first time having a phone that has an advance technology on its camera.  I was really amazed on how it captures its photo it feels like I’m currently holding small DSLR. And until now I keep on capturing random stuffs on what I see because of this phone’s camera whenever I go outside I keep on staring to different angles and try to make it as beautiful as ever. Anywho, 4th yr 2nd semester started, OJT interviews are now filing up because nganong karon paman ko nag email different companies knowing nga free ra gyd unta kaayo ang akoa first and second week of February. However, first interview was starts with ICS niya feeling nako mao gyd n inga company that the great Jaeson will be working with. Hopefully, I can pass the final interview tomorrow *fingers crossed* pero it’s okay if I will not be qualified as long as I keep on being honest to myself. I mean dili raman pod sila nga kompanya ang akoa ge applyan and if I’m not mistaken 2 na nga company pod ang waiting nalang for may confirmation and next might be my deployed if ever sayo ko mo pasa but, still it would be better if I became one of ICS employees wow! Karon pako naka gamit ani nga word sa akoa self WTF! HAHAHAH Oh yeah, I thought I would be staying here longer pero I decided to go back to Manila as early as now kay naa koy mga papers nga makabwesit kay deadline would be on February 24. Plus it would be more beneficial since our progress in our fucking THESIS is on 0%!!!! FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK!! I thought sa OJT rako maglisud but fooking THESIS is the main problem.. I thought every solution it creates another problem pero in this case every problem creates sub problem that would become another problem holy shit! Lately, I become useless on every part of the project that I was in. Wala ko kahibaw ngano like sauna consistent jod kaayo ko mangitas solusyon sa mga project and active pako as in active and mo tabang dayon after mahuman akoa part but these days it’s fucking different. Nawala akoa fighting spirit and akoa motivation like boom Nawala ragyd. I think gasugod ni atong C# ang klase and more on backend programming like wala jod koy matabang aside sa sigeg mando kung unsay mga panghbuhaton but at the end of the day I became a freeloader. Ga overnight pa gane mi sa usa ka balay sa akoa classmate and still wala gehapon koy natabang sige rakog katawa nangitag lingaw and worst is kadtong akoa ge studyhan is walay kwenta so nisamot kog ka way gamit YAWA! That’s why every night I keep asking myself ngano? What happen? I thought focus kos akoa future and slowly turning into a responsible adult but instead it feels like I’m slowly turning into a teenager again become young wild and free. I mean the feeling of not dealing with responsibilities and just keep on having fun is undeniably so far good but it’s the way to become responsible in life it’s not the way to survive if I become an independent person. I always look forward to myself to become an independent person paying rent on my home/room but what happen to me right now. I need to reset and focus on upcoming career, there might be a short assessment on the Final Interview later and I have no idea what might gonna be happen so JAESON if you want to become what you want you need to be living in the present right now stop fooling around you’re better than this. Don’t think about the regrets that you had don’t compare yourself to other people who had fun on their teenage life. It’s still not the end of the road and you can still have fun later on your adult life and it would be better since you’ll not be a freeloader anymore and dependent on the allowance that your mother give you. Soooooooooooooo baby steps, focus on the present focus on your OJT and focus on your fucking THESIS! FINISH IT! 3 MONTHS might be long but in this stupid world it’s faster than you think it is! SO I NEED YOU TO FOCUS FOR THE MEAN TIME FOCUS FOCUS FOCUS FOCUS FOCUS FOCUS FOCUS FOCUS FOCUS FOCUS FOCUS FOCUS FOCUS FOCUS FOCUS!
Before I end this, I just want to share what happened on Valentine’s Day.. So of course wala napod tay kauban because the 2 girlfriends I had I runaway and broke up with them so here I am waiting for something to happen. Waiting for someone that will re-ignite this heart of mine to let me feel what’s romantic love again what and where was that Jaeson that was happily inlove years ago. Anyways, so these new friends of mine had a simple celebration a “BBQ Party + Empi” and I’m becoming envious again not because 2 of them are in love with each other but because one of us found someone who he can chat with and be happy for those moments with the girl. It made me envious because since the moment I go back here not even one that I tried to talk to continued the conversation or if ever lang based on my realizations and observations I’m trying to be also hard to get and keeps holding myself back to become a simp on someone. I just kinda miss the joy of flirting with someone albeit it’s on chat and at the same time the feeling of infatuation on that moment. Maybe I am too old for this kind of romantic shits and go for old tricks! But still loyal paman gud kung Nikka AHAHAH like any moments nga naa koy ipost and if ever mo react siya like wtf gahuna-huna dayon og wedding event and family HAHAHAHAHHAHA it’s fucking BS and literally pathetic on me expecting something on someone who doesn’t even try to know me better yet I keep insisting on being with her. I need to stop this ludicrous dream of mine and again live on the present. Stop the expectation of something that has a slight chance of happening and just go with the flow where ever this universe takes me. However, the valentine’s of 2022 is actually not that bad as long you have friends that joins you and have mini-celebration just because mankind created this day for humanity to forget everything for a day and be with their partner and reminisce on how they started dating. In short, drop everything and look for each other and just be in-love like the first you met. Just for a short night all you have to do is think how lucky you are to be with someone unknowingly what might gonna happen in the future. AND THAT’S MY FUCKING ENTRY ON THIS 5th and 6th I’m gonna call this PANO by Zack Tabulod “ Pano naman ako Nahulog na sayo ”
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mangled-dreams · 6 years
Note
Reader is caught almost shooting themself in the head with Wilfords gun by Mark (maybe Sean too) How do Spetic/Iplier egos react?
Because this is regarding self harm/suicidal thoughts I’m going to list the sites and information I had before with another request. I will do this each time because I believe in having information like hotlines and live assistance for emotional crisis readily available.
https://suicidepreventionlifeline.org/
https://www.crisistextline.org/   Whatever you’re going through, we’re here.Get free help now: Text CONNECT to 741741 in the United States.
Now, I give you:
 Burning Thoughts.
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Things have just been getting harder and harder lately. It's like the world is crashing down and you don't have the strength to support it any longer. With each day comes more complications, more heartache, and more pain, more everything.
Since becoming close with Mark and the egos you'd been given special access to their house, something no one else really gets to. You know their schedules pretty well, know their routines, you know when they won't be home.
Like now.
You know not another soul is in the house with you at this moment. Mark is at the office with Sean working on a collaborating skit, Dr. Iplier is at the clinic with Dr. Schneeplestein, Chase and Bingiplier is off at the BMX tournament in town as the announcer, Marvin is getting ready for his show with Goggleplier of all egos. Since moving in together the Iplier and Septics have grown closer like a tight knit family. You don't know exactly what Wilford, Anti, and Dark are doing, but it's best not to question to much what they do together.
But that doesn't matter right now. All that matters is if Wilford left at least a gun in his safe. You love the guys, love being apart of their life, but you've never really opened up to them—not completely. No, you fear if they knew what you really thought it would be the end of your friendships.
Mark and Sean preach and spread positive words about reaching out, about finding help when depression or anxiety, anything that really gets to be too much. But you've tried that many times only to have it thrown back in your face.
You can't go through that again. You won't use the gun inside the house, which would be just unforgivable of you to take your life in a space that someone else has to live in, no, you'll go to the woods just outside the house and do it there. If you keep out of sight maybe no one will notice you. No one will have to live with that knowledge that you killed yourself and they found your body.
You didn't come to this decision lightly, but the thought has been brewing for years now. Festering deep inside your chest, whispering veil words in your ear each time you feel you've mess up. No, this wasn't your first choice, but it feels like your only choice.
Creeping into Wilford's room you open his safe with ease and find three pistols hidden inside. You don't take his favorite, you're not that heartless if you don't want to be found, instead to take the slightly smaller sized pistol and make sure it's loaded then close the safe door.
Walking by the front door you set your goodbye card on the small stand just inside the hallway and leave through the back door careful to close it completely. You don't hear Mark or Sean entering the house as you walk out the back roof and across the grass barefoot. The sun is shining but it might as well be a stormy cold night. Tears fall freely and uninhibited from your eyes. You know just the spot a few trees into the woods.
Sitting down you adjust your clothing and lean back against the truck of a large oak. It's beautiful and big and you'll be happy to provide nutrients for it after you've left the physical plain. Closing your eyes you utter a prayer your grandmother would say to you at night. You've never really be too religious but it just seems appropriate and press the barrel under your chin.
Your hands shake, you finger gripping and relaxing. It's harder to pull the trigger than you'd thought. Fear of dying still haunts your mind. Taking three calming breathing you relax to your best ability and begin to pull the trigger.
“STOP!”
BANG!
“Y/n! What are you doing! Give that to me!” Mark shouts tearing the gun from your stunned hands. His heart is racing in his chest. You looked so committed to your action it spured him faster than he's ever moved, pushing the gun away just in time.
Sean appears behind him, eyes wide, and mouth gaping at what you're doing. “Jesus fooking Christ.” He swears not sure what to do. You bow your head, sobbing through your body remain motionless.
“Why? Why did you have to come home now?” You sob unable to meet Mark or Sean's stunned gaze.
Neither Mark nor Sean can answer. They don't know what you want them to tell you. They would never allow you to continue with your plan. Yet they don't know how to comfort you in this moment. Mark empty the rounds from the gun, staring at the casket in his hand, it's still so hot to the touch, but he's relieved its only one and that it's not blood stained.
“Let's get ‘em inside.” Sean walks over to you silently. He doesn’t have any words to express how he feels in this moment, nor how to comfort you. He holds his hand out to you, offering to help you up, and when you don’t take it he kneels down, sweeps his arms under yours and lifts you up. You don’t fight him, managing to support a portion of your own body weight on your two feet. Sean doesn’t reprimand you for being difficult; instead he supports you to the house and into the living room. Mark opens doors and moves things out of the way until you’re on the couch, then he goes up to Wilford’s room and puts the pistol and ammo away.
He’ll have to talk with Wilford about changing the code and not allowing you to have the new one. When Mark comes down the stairs he finds you curled into a ball on the couch. Looking to Sean he jerks his head to the den and the pair meet for a quick huddle.
“What the fook just happened?” Sean hisses lowly. He doesn’t want his voice to carry over to you.
Mark shakes his head running his hand through his hair. “I don’t know! I didn’t even know they were this close to—to this kind of thing.” Mark responds glancing over his shoulder to the living room every few seconds. He knows he can’t keep you in the house against your will, but he refuses to let you find another way to end your life.
“What do we do?” Sean asks feeling the most anxious he’s ever been in his life. Neither have a good answer for his question. “Call everyone. I think we need an intervention.” Sean says finally. Even as he doesn’t want to overwhelm you he wants you to know how special you are to them. “Don’t mention the gun, jus’ say Y/n needs help.”
Mark nods and both quickly text their alter selves and friends. “Is this a good idea?” Mark asks after the fifth text.
“It’s all I got.” Sean responds turning to look at the couch keeping you from view. Within a few minutes Dark and Wilford appear in the hallway quickly followed by Anti and Jameson respectively.
“What is going on?” Dark asks looking around for your familiar face.
“Where is, Y/n? We came as quickly as possible.” Wilford adds looking around wildly.
Anti glances around more calming wondering the same. “Is Y/n okay? Did they get hurt?” Anti asks in a more composed manner.
Sitting up when you hear the voices of your friends, you twist a little to see six similar faces standing in a loose circle. Your heart drops in your chest at the realization Mark and Sean must have called them. There is a feeling of betrayal, but also of comfort in some miniscule way.
“JIM! We hear Jim needs help! JIM! Get in here!” Jim and Jim crash through the front door. You jump at the loud crash of door against wall. Older Jim holds his mic while younger Jim sweeps the room with his camera looking for a “story”.
“Oh, God, you messaged them too?” Sean groans spotting Marvin and Googlepiler entering after them.
“They care about Y/n too.” Mark responds unsure why he text the Jim twins either. They can be a bit much to deal with.
“Jim! Jim! Are you getting this! Jim, get this, film this!” Older Jim shouts waddling in some weird crab walk like motion over to you. Dark rolls his eyes and quickly moves to protect you.
“No cameras Jims, you know the rules of the house.” Dark warns staring down the Jim twins until Young Jim lowers the camera. Older Jim finally drops his hand but doesn’t release his mic.
“What’s happen?” Marvin asks seeing your shocked face beyond Dark’s form. “Y/n, are you okay?” Marvin asks walking calmly to you. Dark allows him to pass without restriction.
“Marvin, y-your show tonight. You shouldn’t be here.” You say know if everyone so far Marvin has the most important even going on.
Marvin shakes his head dismissing your worry. “No, you are important to me—all of us. If you need us we’ll come to help you.” He corrects you softly.
“Hey! We were here first!” Wilford shouts walking around the couch with his hands on his hips, leaning down to glare at Marvin. Dark clears his throat and Wilford backs up.
“Wilford, this is not about us. We are here for Y/n.” Dark reminds his long time friend. You quickly look away. You can’t tell if this is a punishment from Mark and Sean. You doubt they’d be so cruel, but it feels like a punishment.
Anti keeps quiet but he already knows what happened. He can smell the gun powder. He’d seen your mood change but had assumed you’d know to come to them—him for help. Just as he begins to speak Chase and Bingiplier shoot into the house.
“I’m here! S—sorry I’m late.” Chase gasps leaning against the wall for support.
“Did you run here?” Sean asks. Chase holds up his finger requesting at least a few seconds to catch his break, nodding as he inhales deeply.
“Y—you said, ah-ah, SOS.” He responds standing up with sweat dreching his shirt.
“Sean! Mark! Why would you do this?” You ask finally standing up.
Sean and Mark exchange looks. “We’re doing this because we want you to see how many people care about you.” Mark says earning a nod from Sean. There are still some missing egos but it’s not like they can hold of the conversation forever.
“I know you care!” You shot back a little angry.
It’s not Mark or Sean that responds. “Then why would you choose to end your life?”  Anti asks point blank. Your heart stops, blood draining from your face, ice suddeny coursing through your veins.
You look at Mark and Sean accusingly. “You told—“
“They said nothing.” Dark interjects.
Wilford nods his head in agreement with Dark. “We know the smell of gun powder, Y/n.” Turning slightly look at Wilford wide eyed.
Jameson steps closer to the couch. ‘We are very familiar with this smell. Why would you not come to us?’ He asks you.
Guilt takes your body. Why did Mark and Sean do this to you?
“Do you not trust us?” Marvin asks trying to keep his hurt under control like the rest. You are important to each and everyone of them. You provide something special to them all, they depend on you and thought you’d do the same to them.
“I trust you, just not with... not with this.” You admit, it hurts to let the words out.
You don’t notice Chase had moved until he’s wrapped around your body, hugging you tightly. “No, no, you can’t go anywhere. What would we do without you?” Chase asks seriously.
You have to blink a few times. “What do you mean? I’m just—just me. I don’t do much.”
Resounding nos bombard you from everywhere as the egos and their creators disagree loudly and strongly against your assessment of yourself. You actually retreat from the larges source of sound, which is Sean and his egos. Mark is loud, as are his egos but Sean and his likenesses are the loudest.
Chase refuses to release you despite your subtle pull. "You do everything!" Chase tells you.
"You help manage our schedules, remind us to eat as a group, you defuse our fights, you helps center us; you've brought us closer together like a true family." Mark says leaning on the couch towards you and Chase.
"It's not very realistic to keep expecting all this from you, but we'd hoped you at least felt how important you are to us. No just as a living calendar keeper, but as our friend, as someone we trust without restrictions." Dark says earning your gaze. "It is not news that you have been suffering from depression, Y/n."
Everything in you stills. You'd been under the impression you'd been hiding it from everyone with success. "W-what?" Whispering in disbelief you sweep your gaze around the room. You see what you'd been missing all this time. They all know.
"Why didn't you... say something?" You ask quietly looking up at Chase with a slight feeling of betrayal again.
"We didn't want you to feel pressured into talking about it." Chase tells you finally letting you retreat from him.
"I--I thought you... You knew..." They knew, all this time they knew and you could have... "I'm so stupid." You whisper hitting the couch and sit down covering your face with your hands.
"No, no, we were the stupid ones." Mark says quickly rounding the couch, Sean copying him. They sit on either side of you. "We failed as your friends." He adds softly.
"We knew you were struggling but we didn't... We're sorry."
You ping pong between the two, then to the faces around you. So many faces looking at you with a sense of failure, but how did they fail you? If anything you failed them. You'd been scared they'd turn away from you, abandon you because you're not that person they've come to know.
"I... I didn't want to be abandoned again." You whisper hanging your head. They already know you'd tried to kill yourself, how could telling them the truth really hurt you anymore?
"What?" Eyes shift from face to face then back to you.
"So many people have just left me behind. I--I couldn't go through that again. Walking on egg shells to be the person everyone expects because they met me on a good day. I keep everything hidden, taking on the role of den mother so I'm useful... so that--so that I'm not a burden to anyone." Eye shift around the room again.
"How do you really feel?" Marvin asks. Lifting your head you look Marvin in the eyes.
"Defeated. Deflated, tired, broken, worthless. I could go on but it's just sound like a pity party. I have very little self-worth, I hide my insecurities behind jokes and fake smiles. I've lost all my passion for even my most favorite of things. I just..."
Anti sighs. He hates listening to you, but he understands. Walking before you he kneels so he's eye level with you. "That's how I got this." Anti says letting his slit throat appear across his neck. "I'm everything Sean fears, but that doesn't mean I don't have my own fears."
Blinking you look at the slit then Anti. He's immortal, you're not. "Do you regret it?" You ask softly.
Much to everyone's surprise he nods his head. "Yeah, 's why I keep it hidden." He explains. It's very rare that Anti shares anything, let alone something this private to him. "No one is perfect, and we don't expect you to be either."
You don't understand why but that little sentence hits you hard. Have you been trying to perfect? You've been masking how you really feel about subjects, but have you been trying to be perfect?
"I..."
"You are merely human and cannot control such t-t-t-things. However, if you wish to continue forward with e-e-ending your life i will gladly search for painless w-w-w-ays for you." Googleplier offers. Angry sharp glares shoot his way.
You know what Googleplier is trying to do. You went with a gun because you have access to it and no one knew about your plan. "No, thank you Google, but no." You say softly. Googleplier nods and takes a step back.
"Dude, not cool brah." Bingiplier hisses at Googleplier. Googleplier ignores his knockoff counterpart.
"Y/n, please, isn't there..."
"It's okay Chase." You says looking at your hands. You honestly don't know if you'd have the courage or the opportunity to try again. It'd taken you nearly six months to finally decide on the gun. "I don't think I could get the courage up to try again..." You tell him honestly.
"Can we do anything?" Sean asks.
You think about it. Is there anything you could ask for at this point? "I can't ask..."
"Yes you can." Marvin argues quickly. "You've done so much for us, Y/n. We are your friends, more than that! We're family."
"Family?" Why does that word feel so foreign to you? Probably because your family turned away from you when you didn't fit into their picture.
"Yeah, for most of us--not to sure about Google, but for most of us you're like a younger sibling that we want to protect and make happy." Bing offers.
Jim and Jim nod their heads. Surprisingly they've been quiet. You peer at them, wondering if they're even still alive.
"They don't know what to do without a story to report." Mark whispers earning a silent giggle from you.
"But Bing has the right sentiment." Dark says, various heads nodding in agreement.
"If it makes it better you can move in here. I know you've been having trouble with your roommate lately. We have an extra room." Sean offers hoping to relieve some of your stress.
"Ve are here!" Henrik and Dr. Iplier rush through the door still in their scrubs and lab coats. Everyone is surprised by their entrance. "I vas in surgery! I am so sorry to come so late." Henrik apologizes.
"I had rounds and couldn't leave right away." Dr. Iplier adds looking at your tear streaked face and the bland expressions from the others. "I take it you've attempted suicide." Dr. Iplier asks straight out. He's known for a while, just like the others, but he had not seen any obvious warning signs that alarmed him like some of his patients.
Walking towards you Dr. Iplier reaches into his lab coat's right pocket and holds out a small object to you. Rising a brow you hold your hand out and take the object. "I have many patients like you. Before medication I suggest these." He says watching you open the object to see a folded, worn out photo of you and everyone squished together. You remember this photo.
It really is a stupid silly photo. Hardly anyone is looking at the camera and a few of the egos are in the process of falling down laughing, but even as everyone seems to be doing their own thing in the center of it all is you. Even Anti and Dark are smiling so genuinely, their eyes resting on your big smiling face.
"Y-you show this to people?" You ask a little embarrassed, but also very happy.
"It is my absolute favorite. There are days that even I do not like to admit get to me. I am here to help others, however how would it look to be a doctor that cannot even help himself out of depression?" Dr. Iplier asks taking back the photo.
"You do?"
"It is very common, Y/n. Everyone who has a heart knows zis pain. Ve give so much and get very little in return. I have lost patients I zoght I vould be able to save. It takes a told on ze soul." Henrik offers seriously. In the breast pocket of his own lab coat he produces the same photo only in better condition.
"You too?"
"Zis is ze second photo I have had printed. I vashed the first by accident." He says giving an apologetic smile. You laugh softly.
"I am sure we have all gathered to reassure you that life is worth living, I see a great number of us were able to come despite having other commitments. I hope this shows you just how endearing you are to us. Others have tried to be our center, you however, you did not try and yet you have won a very large place in our hearts." Dr. Iplier says putting his picture away.
"But why? Why me? I just want to..."
"Because you are you. You aren't always strong and know when to ask for help, usually, and you're willing to be there for people who don't deserve your kindness." Mark says implying himself.
"B--"
"No, the silly little man is right my dear. You may believe you are hiding your true self well, but you have become comfortable enough here to drop your charade." Wilford interjects.
"Sean's offer still stands. We'd love to have you here." Mark adds when you don't speak again.
"Even after..."
"I mean you won't have access to Wilford's guns, but yes. No of us trust you any less than we did this morning." Mark adds smiling.
"You practically live here anyways. I mean the "guest" room isn't really used for guests anymore. They sleep on the couch because that's your room." Anti adds absently.
Tears bubble over your lower lashes. How did you get so lucky with his house literally filled with egos. It was by chance that you ran in to Google and Bing when their systems were malfunctioning. You'd helped them home again to reboot in safety, ensuring they had someone to watch over them before leaving.
"It was fate." Dark answers the question burning in your heart. "Just say yes and put all our minds at ease." He adds smirking at you. You do have to admit Dark's humor has improved, and he and Anti seemed to smile and laugh more often since you've known them.
With a soft sigh you close your eyes and nod your head. "If you gotta twist my arm, I guess I can do this for you." You tease smiling back at Dark.
"Excellent. Jameson, Anti get her things. I'll take care of the landlord." Dark says disappearing.
Jameson adjusts his hat, pats your shoulders excited, and disappears along with Anti. You stare at their empty spots.
"Wait! I didn't mean immediately!" You shout looking to Sean and Mark. "Th--I have a contract!" You say watching one by one each face around you starts to laugh.
"If Dark says he'll take care of it, he'll get you out of the contract and will probably have your last three months rent." Mark laughs.
"If it doesn't work out we've been meaning to expand to make more room around here, but we can always build a second house. Like one of those mother-in-law suites." Dr. Iplier offers nonchalant.
You can't help but laugh at that. It's ridiculous and you know for a fact of all egos Dr. Iplier--aside from Dark, is the most serious out of the bunch when it comes to making plans. In some magical way you've found your home, it just happens to be in a house with multiple people egos of two YouTubers.
"I'm so lucky." You whisper accepting a two sided hug from Mark and Sean.
"We're the lucky ones." They correct you.
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movedyourchair505 · 5 years
Text
Napule Nights - quarantuno
Loads of help from Elana with this one again, she’s a queen. Also, smut warning, hope you enjoy xx
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The apartment door fell shut, yet Jade was left more startled by the fact that Alexander came to a stop right where he stood, his chin held high, his shoulders straight, his body still visibly tense. She thought for a moment to close the space between them, to move closer but despite his words ringing in her ear, that he needed her, she didn't want to overstep any boundaries, not now and potentially make it worse, for once she didn't know what to say, didn't know if distraction was a good or bad plan, a rare moment in which she didn't know what he needed from her.
Alex stood realising his hands were clenched into fists and he loosened them slowly, stretching his fingers, his chest tensing further when he slowly heard the clicking of her heels behind him, relaxed, slowly, shakily, but when her hands came down on his shoulders, kneading the tension slightly from his muscles, he couldn't help himself, exhaling slowly. “Jade...”
She swallowed, stepping closer so he could feel more of her, that she was right there like he'd asked, and she was relieved when she felt that she was making somewhat making a change, at least evoked a shift in posture, relaxing him slightly. She didn't want to treat him like any less of what he was, didn't want to assume that something bothered him, but it was quite clear that his interior at the moment did not match the exterior, but she pushed herself to speak anyway, at risk, but for the possibility. “Anything you need, Alexander.”
He let out a deep sigh, didn't allow something that was in the past to get a hold of him now and he turned around slowly, leaning into her touch when she placed her hands on his chest. “Come on, pupa” he drawled, clearing his throat quietly. “Weh're goin' up teh the roof.”
Relieved to follow, she held on tightly to his hand as he led her out of the loft and up the stairs, Helders following but staying outside the door when they ascended on a small staircase behind it, Alexander unlocking another door before the fresh air hit her, the breeze tickling her bare skin, yet she was instantly distracted by the spectacle she found herself in.
Lights shone up from the marble stone floor, a white, ornated fence lining the edges, a bar making up one corner, a bubbling, lit up jacuzzi on the other, there was green everywhere, large trees and flowers, a slice of paradise within the lights and sky high buildings that surrounded it, and she found her head turning slowly from side to side, then slowly looking back at him, but pressing her lips together instead of breaking the silence, letting him lead her towards the glow of the water, and she felt an instant urge to dip into the hot bubbles. Despite the warmth of the day, the midnight breeze had cooled the air and made her shiver.
“Take off yehr dress, pupa.”
She needed no telling twice, obeyed instantly and pulled her white dress over her head, licking her lips as she looked at him, stood in nothing but her thong and heels, and the jewel, her eyes wide as she pressed herself up against him again, watched him as he swallowed visibly hard, pursing his lips before he spoke. “Yeh not goin' teh undress meh?”
She hummed, saw the life return to his eyes, wiping away all her hesitation and she slowly ran her hands up his chest, unbuttoning the remaining buttons of his shirt, dipping her head lower to press a kiss to his collarbone, right next to his chain while guiding his suit jacket down his arms, his shirt following and she put them neatly to the side, licking her lips when he'd already unbuckled his belt and stepped out of his shoes, sinking slowly to her knees to push down his tight suit trousers, the smooth material now creasing, then let his underwear follow.
Jade looked up at him with wide eyes, but his hand instantly found its way around her neck to pull her up as an answer to her pleading question, a slight shake of his head and he stepped out of his trousers and underwear, taking a deep breath and already making her miss his touch. He took out his cigarettes from his trousers, then placed them down next to an ashtray by the jacuzzi before he stepped up onto the platform it stood on securely, climbing inside with a hiss of relief as the hot water started washing over his body, turning around and extended his arm to her.
She swallowed, her heart skipping a beat and she took hold of his hand thankfully, stepping out of her heels and ridding herself of little lace remaining on her body, then gracefully climbing in beside him, sighing at the warmth enveloping her, comforting her despite everything, the cold wind still flying through her hair, but the contrast was heavenly.
The darkness of his eyes kept her breath shallow, she was ready to tend to his every need, to act like this evening was no different to any other, or to treat him like the authority he was, to do whatever he felt suitable, but he broke instantly through her thoughts, his voice cutting through the silence between them, mumbling while he turned to draw a cigarette from the pack behind him, the flame dancing on his lighter before he lit the smoke and took a deep drag.
“I should've known sooner.”
Jade swallowed, pressing her lips together, waiting for a few moments, and as expected, she did not have to wait long for him to continue, her eyes locked on his when he looked up, somehow encouraging him that it was safe to elaborate, it was all it took.
“Sheh were wif them all this time...” he muttered, she could tell even though his hands were below the surface that his hands were balled into fists. “Been probableh tellin' them even more than I thought, I … I should've known...” he sighed, shaking his head, his lip stretching upwards as he spoke before he took another drag from his cigarette.
She shook her head slowly, was trying to let him finish, but she couldn't bear it. “No...” she said quietly. “Alexander, it's not your fault. You can't blame yourself for this. You had no way of knowing.”
“Fookin'...” he muttered through gritted teeth. “I'm Alexander Turner, 's me job teh kno'. After evrehfin' … fookin'ell, after all the damage sheh done, I thought sheh were gone, 'ad enough digniteh teh leave and feel ashamed but all this time … sheh were 'ere, she knew...”
She moved closer to him, taking a breath, before she could open her mouth this time, he already spoke again.
“When yeh saw 'er...” he said, his eyes wide as he stared back at her. “Back when … yeh kno' … sheh were there when Alfonso talked t'yeh?”
Jade pressed her lips together, already sensing what question he was slowly approaching, and she knew he would not like the answer. “Yes...”
Alex swallowed, the look on her face said it all, said that she knew his question, and was already offering a silent answer. “Rehyt...” he said quietly, diverting his gaze and crushing his cigarette in the ashtray on the side, then looking at the bubbles on the surface, tried to focus on something, anything but the war raging in his head. He had to be sure, couldn't bear any more uncertainty, but at the same time, he wanted to never think about any of it again. “So … 'er and … 'im...” he said, biting his lip, his eyes snapping up to look at her again. “Reyht?”
Her nod was barely visible, she hated that it was so important to him that he needed to know, even though she understood the reason, too affected by the look in his eyes to question it and she wondered now that she had a face to the name, to the damage if she'd physically been where she herself was right now, yet well aware that due to everything, due to the way he looked at her, searched for her hand underneath the water, she suited it better than her, suited him better and looked better, was better.
“'s so fookin' embarrassin'...” he muttered through gritted teeth, shaking his head. “Tha' 'e's got wha' I 'ad now, tha' … fook...”
Jade shook her head, squeezing his hand lightly as it came to rest on her thigh and he once again avoided looking at her. “More embarrassing for him, isn't it?” She asked. “That he is where you already were.”
Instantly, his gaze locked back with hers, the hint of a smile playing around her lips making his heartbeat tumble momentarily. She believed her own words, didn't look at him any different, judged everybody else more than him. “'s embarrassin' because she 'elped 'im. Especialleh after sheh fooled meh.”
Again, she shook her head, could sense that he was letting her see something he probably had never intended for anyone else to see, not then, certainly not now. “You know better. And you've proven that it doesn't faze you now, that you're strong, that you're powerful and that none of what he does, what she does matters to you, that you won't budge, that you won't agree to their deal just because they brought her like some sort of strategy. You didn't fall for it, Alexander, they were trying to get to you and you walked away the stronger man.”
He was silent, but she could tell that her words did not completely go past him and he breathed in slowly, his jaw tensing.
She felt like with the little he had shared now, there was not much to fill in now, that she knew what there was to know, and she didn't want to force anything, but there was something she could not shake, something she needed to know to assess how to move forward. “Did you love her?”
He blinked, swallowing hard, then blinking again before his face fell, and he gave a slight shrug of his shoulders. “I dunno honestleh. I thought I did. She told meh she loved meh.” He pressed his lips together. “I knew it weren't fair not teh trust yeh, teh let 'er be the reason teh change 'ow I fink. I joost...” He sighed, scratching at his jaw. “Didn't fink there'd beh anehbodeh else, tha knows?”
Her eyes widened, her lips parting with a quiet gasp. “I won't betray you, Alexander.”
His brows furrowed, his eyes darkening. “I fookin' kno' tha'.”
Jade nodded slowly, saw the shift behind his gaze, tilting her head to the side as she waited for him to speak, knew now that if she was here with him, if she had made it this far, that he needed no reassuring that she was not going to repeat history.
“C'mere.”
He gave a pointed look from her own body to his, humming with approval when she shifted to sit in his lap, her legs pressing to either side of him, his fingers once again coming up to close around her neck and she lifted her chin to maintain his gaze, sighing softly, his familiar touch as welcomed as ever, now that she was close she was instantly intoxicated by the familiar cloud of smoke as well his now fading cologne.
“Alexander...” she whispered, felt him hard between her legs, igniting a fire within her and she instinctively moved to grind forward, purring with delight when she made his eyes widened, elicited a low, guttural moan from deep within his chest, the intensity of his gaze wild, his other hand coming down on her hip to steady her, then moving to press flat against the small of her back to curve her body towards him.
“I told yeh I need yeh, pupa” he drawled impatiently. “Get teh work. I want yeh teh ride meh.”
She needed no telling twice, steadying herself with her hand on his shoulder before lifting her hips, her other hand under the surface gripping the base of his cock, giving him a few tugs that had his eyes threatening to fall shut and she lined him up with her entrance, her back arching and lips parting with a long moan when she sank down on him without him holding her hips and restricting his movements, allowing her to take him all the way, his now hard length throbbing inside her, stretching her, filling her blissfully.
“Mmmm, thaaa's it, doll...” he drawled, his voice deep, thick with pleasure. “Fook, tha's fookin' good...”
She whimpered, steadying herself on his shoulders with both hands, breathing shakily because of how tight she felt around him, her walls squeezing him, the sensation of the stretch, the burn he ignited inside her overwhelming, her nails digging into his skin, the praise falling from his lips only fuelling her and she gasped as she lifted her hips, let him almost slip out before sinking down on him again, whining softly.
Alex groaned, his fingers tightening slightly around her throat, his eyes locked on hers, challenging her to hold his gaze, to keep her eyes open and focused on his. “D'yeh want meh, Jade?” He asked, stretching his jaw.
Her breath was shallow, her eyes open and wild and silently begging him to maintain control. She loved the way he trusted her, let her work for him and guided her into submission on a level where he knew she was going to what he wanted without him forcing her down, dominating her physically, but rather trusted her to please him, as well as take what she wanted. “S-So bad...” she whispered.
He hummed with satisfaction, the hint of a smile playing tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Rock yehrself back on meh, Jade...” he commanded, licking his lips as his eyes stayed on hers watchfully, his thumb pressing into the soft skin below her chin to angle her head up higher, for her to keep her gaze on him, to see the pleasure he evoked inside her in her eyes. “Show meh yeh want meh.”
She moaned quietly, found it harder to move now that he held on to her and held her in place, directing and restricting her movements, yet asking her to do as he pleased and she slowly started to rock her hips on him as much as she could, whimpering at the way his cock rubbed at her walls, pushed in and out of her, the friction tight, burning, hot between her legs, her eyes falling shut momentarily as she couldn't take the pleasure, her back arching, her head aching to fall back, but he gave a slight squeeze of his hand, made her eyes snap right back open, the blur focusing on him and he could feel her getting wetter as she whined, bounced on him, rolling her hips into his desperately, the water easing her task slightly.
“Mmm, makes yehr cunt drool, dunnit?” He chuckled darkly. “Me 'and 'round yehr neck? D'yeh need meh teh call yeh summat dirteh? Make yeh tell meh 'ow mooch yeh want meh?”
“A-Alexander, fuck...” she whined when his hips snapped out into hers and he filled her up hard, deep, his hand clamping down on her hip to hold her in place, cease her movements to take it upon himself to set the pace, her mouth falling open as she looked at him with wide eyes, her breath hitching in her throat as she took his thrusts gratefully, moaning each time his throbbing cock pushed deep inside her, tending to the ache she had for him, desperate for more, trying to move with him, to angle her hips to get him to sink deeper, her knees knocking against the hard surface of the seat.
“Yeh're me fookin' good girl, aren't yeh?” He drawled, stroking his thumb across her chin. “Keep yehr eyes on meh, doll, I'm gunna fook yeh until yeh're sore...”
She mewled softly, the lust growing behind her gaze and between her legs as she heard his words, desperate for him to stick to them, to make them come true, her eyes widening with need. “P-Please...” she whispered.
He hummed. “Mmm, yeh...” he panted, his voice shaky, his chest rising and falling quickly, the heat of the pool contrasting the breeze that cooled his skin, his forehead shiny with sweat. “Yeh like tha', dun't yeh? Like feelin' meh even when I'm done wif yeh...”
She nodded eagerly, whimpering when he filled her up hard again with no regard to shaking the water around them. “H-Harder” she begged. “I … I need it, please...”
He moaned with satisfaction as he felt her trying to move her hips with his, licking his lips, his eyes never leaving hers and he buried himself deep inside her, stilling his hips and holding her in place, making her feel every inch of him, feeling the way her walls fluttered around him, struggling to take him, desperate for him to create the friction she was aching for. “Can yeh feel meh deep inside yeh, principessa?” He teased. “Tha's it … moan for meh, pupa, moan for me cock...”
“A-Alexander, please...” she whimpered when he didn't give in to her pleas. “I … o-oh, fuck, I'll do whatever you want, just please...”
He chuckled darkly, tilting his head, his fingers caressing her throat. “D'yeh ever hate meh for the way I fook yeh up, Jade?” He groaned through gritted teeth, watching the pleasure creasing her smooth skin as he slowly started moving again, drawing tears that made the emerald of her eyes shine brighter than the stone around her neck.
“I love it, Alexander...” she whimpered. “I-I love you...”
His control faltered when he heard her words, saw the need in her eyes, the rawness of it all, his hand moving to the back of her neck to pull her closer, press her chest up against his, his grip simultaneously loosening on her hip so she could move with him, slamming her hips together as she bounced in his lap, clinging on desperately to him as she ached for more friction. “Yeh like when it 'urts, dun't yeh, pupa?”
She whimpered needily, panting. “It hurts so good, baby...” she whispered, her fingers moving up to take a fistful of his hair, gripping, pulling as she moaned loudly, his hand cupping the back of her head and she leaned needily into his touch, her breath shaking.
“Tell meh yeh're never gunna leave meh, Jade...” he panted, his deep brown eyes wide, hopeful, his voice strained as he groaned for her to cure the nature of his demand.
“Alexander...” she whispered, looking back at him in disbelief, hoping that he didn't need the reassurance, that he knew.
He groaned, his brows furrowing, eyes darkening. “Tell meh.”
Her eyes softened, threatened to roll back when he thrust up hard inside her again. “I won't” she whimpered, her breath shaking. “Y-You know I won't, I promise.”
He felt her walls contracting around him, could tell she was close and the way she drew him in had him reeling, struggling to hold on and without a warning she brought his fingers down between them, letting out a strangled moan when he twitched inside her, rolling his thumb against her clit harshly. “Cum for meh” he grunted, his voice trailing off into a moan as he felt her body tense, a string of desperate moans spilling from her lips.
“Ooooh, Alexander...” she cried.
He groaned at her nails digging into his skin, the beauty of her face underlined only by the pleasure he evoked within her, the way she pulled on his hair to hold on, squeezed around him and rocked herself on his cock to ride out their orgasms when he allowed her driving him wild and he watched her in awe, licking his lips eagerly when she calmed slowly, the movements of her hips slowing and without warning he gripped the underside of her thigh to lift her off his cock, the muscles in his arm straining, sighing at the loss of friction and heat around his cock, yet disregarding her soft whimper when he left her empty for a split second before forcing two fingers inside her, felt her slick with their arousal mixing, curling his fingers harshly inside her and gripping on to her throat again to keep her where she was, reveling in the feeling of how tight she had to hold on to him to not lose leverage with her knees shaking, unable to hold herself down on either side of his body.
She gasped loudly, taken off guard but welcoming the elongated pleasure, the afterglow of her orgasm intensifying the tightness and heat between her legs, his fingers not as snug of a fit as his cock, but he added more and more pressure to her clit with his thumb, the moans he drew form her obscene, almost embarrassing with how badly she wanted him, but she kept her gaze locked on his, whimpering when he curled his fingers harshly inside her over and over again, stroking at her walls until he had her whole body trembling again, had her writhing in his lap, completely at his mercy, her knees knocking against the seat harshly.
“Theeere we go, pupa, fookin' gorgeous...”
Her chest was rising and falling quickly as she came down again, her eyes wild with bliss, her skin flushed from the heat of the pool as well as the pleasure he'd evoked from deep inside her and she pressed her lips together, trying desperately to slow her breath as his grip on her loosened again, drawing his fingers from her.
She knew he was striving desperately for a control he after the meeting saught to intensify, had not quite made up his mind, but he refused to be humiliated even though she hoped he knew that she never would have perceived it that way, had never seen anything but authority and power when she'd looked at him, had never questioned him nor doubted his superiority, and she knew it didn't bother him who had betrayed and humiliated him, it was that it'd happened and how people perceived him because of it, a potential threat to the image, the realistic reflection of his strength and power.
He was silent for a few moments, looked back at her with a blur of expectation and adoration, his fingers now smoothing down her back, only adding pressure at the small of her back to pull her in closer. His thoughts were running wild now that the bliss and lust were lifting from his mind, now that he was forced to think about it all again, and he knew that if he had her to fall back on, to support him and could rely on her never betraying him the way he'd been betrayed before, it would give them a feeling he hadn't known he'd craved all along, only this time it would be real, something he could really fall back on.
Her heart skipped a beat when she heard him speak and break the silence, had not expected her name to fall from his lips when she sensed he was trying to conceal the hurt in his voice. “Jade” he drawled. “Dun't yeh leave meh.” The look in his eyes was dark, and even had he not spoken to her with that tone of authority that attracted her more to him than anything, she would have promised him anything, be it on the rooftop with the warm water bubbling around them, the throbbing between her legs a reminder of the satisfaction he never failed to give her, or in any other, there was no need for him to coax the words from her, nor demand them. She gave him everything gladly, gratefully, needed him just as much as he needed her and she breathed out shakily when she felt him cup her face, nuzzling instantly into his touch, wanting nothing more but to wipe the tension from his features.
“I will never” she whispered, could sense what his mind had wandered to again and was desperate to draw him right back again. “You're the most incredible man I know, Alexander. I'm all yours.”
Alex exhaled shakily, resisting the urge to close his eyes as he couldn't stand not looking at her, making sure to see, to not miss anything. “I luv yeh, Jade” he drawled, closing the space between their faces and capturing her lips in a deep kiss, eager and hungry, all-consuming, he drew her in, felt her sticky skin press up against him, the water bubbling around them as their lips moved in sync, their tongues dancing.
She could feel his heart thudding strongly in his chest, pressed up against her own, matching, and she moaned quietly, tugged lightly on his hair and only causing him to kiss her harder, left her needy as well as satisfied when he drew back, his hand clamping at the back of her neck to hold her in place, his half-lidded gaze making her heart stop momentarily when her eyes fluttered open as he pressed his sweaty forehead to hers, his breath shaking as the hint of a smile made the corner of his lip twitch upwards.
She smiled weakly, her breath equally as uneven. “I know” she whispered. “I love you.”
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survivorgalaxysedge · 4 years
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Episode 3 | Funky But I Don’t Care - Zach
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If the past 5 years of ORGs have taught me one thing, it's how to do a slide puzzle.
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I HATE MY FOOKING TRIBE! Pippa didn't deserve that. Nathan Silver and Jessie are stinky freaks of nature and they WILL be dealt with accordingly. I'm gonna play nice with Nathan in PMs but I'm really just gonna throw him under the bus to Jessie and Silver and try to get him voted out if we lose immunity. If he's being 100 with me then oh well what do I look like going back and trusting him after he lied to me for NO REASON?!?!?!? I'd rather leave this game trying to get him out than work with him
also jessie and nathan and silver are like just flat out not good players??? like the shit they say to me is not....good player behavior? this is the RETIREMENT HOME ORG not a beginner's course in How To Make a Move and Do Damage Control.....AMATEURS!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I HATE feeling outplayed when in reality those three just kinda had the past two tribals served up to them for free... it's very very annoying to me.
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I am screaming. Ive never does this brantsteele challenge before but i feel like its gunna be sooo frustrating and annoying. Fhdhhd send help. 
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Queen Zoe singlehandedly winning this BrantSteele challenge for us. Love that! On a game related note, Jay approached me last night about working together. We haven’t gone to tribal yet and I don’t think we will this round but it’s good to finally talk a little bit of game with someone. Jay says he hasn’t heard any game talk yet either so I’m feeling alright about that. I’ll absolutely go to the end with Jay at this point. I know it’s still super early on, but we vibe well and I think strategically we’re a match.  
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so. i am nervous abt this challenge. i really cant say how its gonna go but idk i feel like im due for tribal council. and i feel like none of these folks like talking to me so i am Just Sitting here. im getting left on read a lot and have to start most conversations so im just.... idk. and also i dont understand the advantage codes<3 am fucked lads
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I love to vibe with my tribe. A third straight immunity win. Not even just a win but an absolute fucking destruction of the other tribes. Queen Zoe coming in clutch this challenge. This game is such a weird and different experience for me. I’m used to attending at LEAST 2 of the 3 first tribal councils. And to not go to any of them? Man it’s wild. And on top of that, I still have my hidden immunity idol so if anything wonky happens soon I have that as back up. Part of me wants to be “swap fucked” so that I can play my idol and get someone out. But also I don’t want that because then my idol is gone before merge. Maybe I can Michele this game and just be immune at every tribal before merge. That would be great. 
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https://drive.google.com/file/d/1HHrEyVnad2c7xIDl6RrQYoqrSmOMz6Yh/view?usp=sharing
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ok so we sure did blow this challenge. i feel safe at first tribal since the only name going around right now is maynor's. there's a new problem tho. jules wants to work with me and i want to work with jules, but i was talking to zach about what we should do in case maynor has a rocket ship and yeets out of this tribal, and he mentioned a possible alliance of me, him, ali and jacob. who does that leave? jules. first off, alliances in which its me and all men.... disgusting bye, secondly i will NOT vote jules bc i like her and we have good conversations whereas i can barely hold a conversation w jacob like.... no 
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https://youtu.be/IRnF7nOa1mY
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https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bHOFcEccD38
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https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6RFYwSJDeYE&feature=youtu.be
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The name right now is Jacob. Like I hope nothing is played or whatever and that Jacob goes. Im just at work all dy and hoping that like I’m able to stay in this game. I dont want to leave yet. 🥺
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https://youtu.be/c-MPdAazB7U
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I'm nervous but I have an alliance 
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Cycle 3: so we won immunity..... finally but last tribal we successfully took out Pippa  :) erm I dont know much else to say lol 
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great round!! we are starting to bond more as a tribe and we keep winning those challenges! i’m v proud of myself for brantsteele i def won that challenge for us. ari and i are getting closer as well and the tribe talks about nothing in particular every day. not much strategizing yet but that’s okay. signing off, xoxo space bitch
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I'M SO NERVOUS. Tribal today. I've talked to everyone on the tribe and we say it's Maynor, I just hope it's not all a big ruse on me. I really like Zach Ali and Asya and really wanna work with them so I just hope that I can trust them. AAAAAAHHHHH
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Hi my name is Jessie we won immunity Go us actually winning something ! Okay that’s it that’s my thoughts for this round Maybe we can win again 
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bloojayoolie · 7 years
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Af, Anime, and Apparently: , Okay Ibl, story ame when I wss younger, had this Irish friend who pred our school when w as like 17, Dude ded recently nd here丐the ballad of the merveeus bsstard be average as fuck 17 year old Bribong Some foreign guy has just joined, his family just moved here city called Dery in Mgved here with his dad and his lite sister, his mum died when he was younger He gets put in my class and ends up stting nest to me This is howl met Eigh-Beers Mgee the all him Call him a hippo because of his fucking industrial size frant teeth and his big flucking lps Greg uses his adism to get out of doing and saying whatever the fuck he wants noing EB wth she lke Greg has his desk very paricularly arranged, pens on one side in a straight ine pencis on the other Dude is OCD as fuck with his pencilcase and shit Goes nuts i anything gets moved, so this desk is sightly apart from everyone elses We all get in shit twe fuck with him an purpose, We ought to know better The sutistic hippo keeps trying to get a reaction out of EB the whole class All af a sudden EB just casualy raises a foot and pushes the Hppo's desk right the fuck over Teacher hurries oer and trying to explan to EB atma Gregs autism while Greg teaks the tack G in his chair, breathing reawy ss thoug gh nong bd sheer辍tstie resentment EB looks at Greg and betsthe teacher "Oh sorry, wedant have Wid bump with more nenhinbeland' h on EB's third day at our school He's a pretty cool guyikes the 쑈me vidya and movies as me and is a big fan of Rugby, was captan of his team back iieland ell hem the school has s rughy searn he says EB goes to check it out, starts off on the lower team because hes think theyire ston of kind of fast runners gets recks fucking everyone that next hal f hel take him Jumps on him, grabs him by the neck to pull him down and iterally rolls on him ike a fucking rolling pn -EB didniteven have the bal What the fook you playin at son I didnt even have the ball, do you even know how to fookin play the game lad EB grins You know over in Ireland you have to be fit to play sports, the fatties get leit on the sideline EB grabs his amn and tosses him to the ground dude twists his anke or something and starts twitching and squeaking lke a baby elephant with parkinsons EB gets put on top team Anonymous (D wHTHOgC) 03 19/14(Wedj20 28 25 UTC-5 No 538041137 Reple 41T months without inc dont give long as youre cool to him dents aside from a few close cals with Greg the Mildly Autistic Hppo e pretty close Apparently ㅲ Ireland they don't have gangs they have paramitanes fighting between whether Northern lreland ts Britsh or hsh >He plays 4down a kal, bd ican tell some shit mu have Pagpened because he always changes the subject when gets clos·tohame Edgy fapgot Luke comes back to school Luke hangs around with a pack of riggers who are all apparenty in a gang, he les to pretend he's part of this "gang" and carries this fucking Stanky e around that he panted red and bue for some reason aOne day at lunch Like corries up to EBied o ofnotere starts askrig his datisalcoholc Nope aound Tm guessin your mam had a far lew belore you were born though mate Well tuck Ind wanna sift speI had to sht out a dat bastardlke yourset. Jog on ン"You win t)4ck with the wrong person t y inst, boy?" EB starts laughing, IHeraly loses his sht at the ste of this Itle fagpot in a trenchc oat with a stanley knfe and actualy presses EB grabs his wrist, takes the fabled blade from the hands of the chosen one tosses t over a fence and punches him straight in the face We're out geting beer, Tm with a 7/10 GT that Ive had a crush on for tucking months Her and EB get along realy wel, athough I sort of think she only hung out with us because EB did That right when we're all drunk, me and QT end up fucking Leaving out my side because this is the ballad of Eght Beer, not me Spend ages taking with QT,estabǐshthat shè apparenty seat, ikes me back EB heads up to bed, I stay down with the other guys to watch TV, QT was askeep when 1 came down QT comes running do wwith a towel round her, soaking wet, and rung out the ont door Apparently EB sleeps naked, not surpnised since Ive found him naked before after a night of drinking Says she came on to himeven ater all he shit she said aLaugh숨 and says he took aprt to bed with hm,awas cn e tablo and when she ed onwth him he lossed all over her Threw her clothes out the wendow into the rain and told her to go and fetch Two weeks later he takes me to a pub and hooks me up with a 910 Anonymous (TDwHT HOC) 03/1914(Wed 20.43 59 UTC-5 No 538044014 Raps.4380408044772 332420 EB and me are total bros after being fnends for a few years 가%aving hm as a best friend is Ike havngtose nasty trainers as a kid Shit get pretty he avy >Him and E汨were close, mostly because EB would buy him vidya and act super interested in the anime sht he lied because nobody else other than me would loses his har chermo aGotovst him, EBisgung me there >He thinks rs awesome get our photo taken together witout any har EB lets him draw all kinds of dumb sh on his bad head, lets him draw a dumb moustache on him o Spend ages just dicking a >Son of a bitch luke who R is, Dukey the Rookie is across the bar in the same tucking trenchcoat he wore back at school >EB says hi chats away to him lbe nothing ever happened >We head home and EB spend the night sitting up with me playing Batlefront on my old P52 and drinking, just trying to cheer me up me every time Sorry for that 2sad4me post, but iti make sense later Anonymous (IO woitth%) 05/19/14(Wed)20 52 46 UTC-5 No 530045357 Reeses 씌38amsrme esaaa Lving together in a let with some chick and her boyfriend The one song I remember is "Uncle Tommy by The Rumjacks, because it played when sht went down EB told them that he "ain't lookin any trouble lads, have a beer and forget that tripe for the night aye? 4 of them jump on him, start beating the shit out of him -l tackle one of them to try help him, get the fuck beaten out of me but fuck that it's goddamn E8 in there EB broke the dudes fucking am He gets up, bleeding out of every pore in his beaunful iwish body Bouncing around with his fists up, Ieraly looks ike he could fly around the room he's bouncing that much The skinheads keep going for him but back off every time aher he swings, it looks lke he could knock a building down with that sh Babbling some incoherent shit in lrish rage, nobody understands the words but everyone understands the meaning pack up there sht ike a scene from a fucking move Eight tucking beersl You splied eight of me fucking beers you hairless tuckin mongrels Eight beers lad, eight fucking beers What's the fucking craic there lke Anonymous (D: wHTiHOgC) 031914(Wed]21:6 02 UTC-5 No. 538047326 EB sgoing back to Ireland to vist his nan, she's real sick 기we lar dr, Befast-thritrs the captal of the oth but not of Ireland ckhow t wori ed EB never eaty expla edit, 5ad you wont understand the bullsh politics unless you grew up there go 1o vist his nan with EB' Sweetest tucking old lady ever, says that EB was always a rough lad but awk he'd never hurt a sour greedy fucker This woman is clearly the most infuenial famly member in the Eight Beer famly EE shows me round Derry, tels me about how 5pIt relgusy and shows methes bg ass wall cood place Takes me to Belast agan and shows methe pace wherethe ttanc was bu -we end up going to place caled The Crown Bar Ger pretty drunk, or Tpped as EB calls it Walked around Belfast for a bt, he tells me about the history of some stuf »Spend a few nights there, have a fucking blast but decide to head home don't wanna be an inrusion on the whole nan stustion Lad you're practicaly a part of the famly Anonymous D wH7HOQC) 03/19/14Wd21 18 48 UTC-5 No 538040230 Getting close to the end now Shits hard to wrte, I miss hat fucker Life is prety uneventful for a wle pparentty some Kiddy Fiddler called Wilm Whight fucked EB when totally agan family home a load of sht, fucks 2EB spends all nut there next to her, nearly gets wolent when staff ask harto leave so doctors can sort some 닸官out calm him down and we wat r, hosptzd for brig bme B's Sister gets beter, but is pretty fucked for life Never taks never leaves the house she's pretty much a goddarmn vegetable EB spends all of his time off work with her, never comes out anymore, just sts in with her. We sometimes come ound and drink with him but he refuses to leave the house -One night while he's sieeping, EB's fucked up sister C's faul, that's pretty much the main subject of t. I don't get why she'd need to say that but whabever Tels me he waan't that close with his family back home his dad is fucked up with grief and everythings just a mess ie doesn't want to go home because he has nothng there other than remnders, but doesn't want to stay here because of what has pened Does his best to be the usual bi9dck coolguy that he always was, puts on a brave face but f you c h him on his own he's luckn9 merable ite gets in 갠 few fights when we're ot dmkrg ry one who gnestmamy 5hvt gets m edistety fucking amidated none ofths ads everyone on" that he used to do s fighting back tears already guessed, but he starts teling me about how he blames himseffor what 거had pened to his sis have tucking known better >Lterally carrot change his mid anthis shit, looks like he has himse#1uly convinced th this is his taut we talk about old imes laugh a be things actualy seem back to normal for whie Ainight mabe. Let's have one for old tme's sake, ae? Hie eventualily leaves, but before he goes he tells me that 'You've been a good mate from day one mate. Honestly out on a limb rd do fuckin' anything for ya Take t easy lad speti ong tme EB doesn't reply to teats or Cutign place doeant answer B tucking hung himsel is fanly tatoo many things that I don't need thanked every tme fucker
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vanchlo · 4 years
Text
The Assistant / Chapter Thirty-Nine, “Another Day”
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Clickable Links: 
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Music Inspo: Another Day by Paul McCartney (click to listen)
WARNINGS: Some Smut
                                  SNEAKYYYYYYYY PEEK
A soft ‘thank you’ leaves me in reply, and I think for the first time the silence isn’t awkward. I wonder if for him too it’s full of so many unspoken words that I’m dying to say, or if that’s just me. So often, I doubt that he feels the same way about me, but God, when he looks at me like I’m the only person in the world, I can’t remember what doubts are. And I swear he looks at me that way every single time.
Standing here before him, I remember the plan I made, and like he keeps his promises, I decide to keep this one. No matter if it’s the hardest one I’ve ever made in my entire life, and I know it’ll be the hardest one to keep.
                 “It’s still you, it always has been you, it always will be you.” 
                                                     - B.D.
His eyebrows knit into a question and I finally return to devouring his lips once they fall from the confines of his teeth. Hurried breaths escape us as I nudge my hips against his, sighing when his hand returns home to its place on my ass. He echoes my groan when my dripping center brushes against his warm tip, and I whimper when it tickles my clit. Goosebumps crawl across my flesh at the sensation, and at the sounds he makes. A smirk grows on my lips as I drag myself over him again, a high pitched sound leaving him. 
“Becks,” he sighs before I quiet his lips with a kiss, moving my own with his. 
The remnants of his morning coffee tickle my tastebuds while I massage his top lip between my own. I hum a question back to him, letting my fingers wander from his unshaven cheeks and down to his toned chest. My name leaves his lips once more while my wet folds drag over the slope of his cock below me. I try to replace my lips on his, but he won’t let me, and instead I find his dark eyes with mine. 
“What?” I huff, searching his eyes for an answer as I grind down onto him again. A giggle flies from my mouth when his bottom lip comes between his teeth, accented by a roll of his eyes. 
My laughing is forgotten when he presses down on my hips as he thrusts upwards, and his cock enters me suddenly. Now, it’s his turn to laugh as a surprised moan escapes me. 
“Not so funny bein’ teased, ‘s it, Becks?” Harry purrs, a smirk curling into his cheeks while my insides stretch around him. His breathy laugh tickles my neck as he leans forward to plant whispery kisses above my mother’s necklace he had gifted me. “Now, fookin’ ride me already, babe, befo’ I lose me patience and flip ya ova.” 
“I’d like to see you try,” I tease, feeling his warm breath waft over my face when he exhales while clucking his tongue. 
“Becks, Becks, Becks. I thought we were way past this ‘playin’ hard t’ get’ shit.”
“What, it’s fun?” I giggle, leaning forward slowly as I stare into his eyes before his lips meet mine. 
“Ya, fer you it ‘s.” My laugh dances across his lips as I lift my hips before letting them fall, feeling his groan against my mouth while his cock slides back into me. “Y’know jus’ what t’ do with me, dontcha, bug?”
I nod with a ‘shhh’ against his cheek where I trail kisses, whining when his thumb presses against my clit to draw circles. Curses fall under my breath when his hips meet mine in a thrust. 
“Fook, Becks, I love y-.” 
Bleeeeeeeeep! 
Flying to a sitting position, heavy breaths rack my chest as my bedroom comes into a blurry focus. Swallowing against my dry throat, I cough as I try to come back to reality, but that’s easier said than done after what just happened. Anything and everything is going to be difficult after that dream. 
“Holy fucking shit,” I mutter under my breath, letting my hands relax where they grasp at my sheets. With an attempted deep breath, I move back to sit up straighter in bed, the images from before burned into my brain. Harry’s face. The blush suit. His naked torso. His coc-
“Okay, Becky, it was just a dream. Just a stupidly amazing dream. Oh my God,” I whimper into my hands, letting my fingers card through my hair as I try to collect myself. “God, that dream was so amazing. Ugh, Harry,” I sigh sadly, a long whine spilling into the air as I recall every detail of the dream. Our made up daughter, the blissful feeling of his lips upon mine, and our naked bodies so close and then meeting. 
It was a dream indeed, because as if I wasn’t sure of it before, I know now that I want that more than anything. I want to be able to steal a kiss from him whenever my heart desires. I want his hugs whenever I need one. There’s a sharp pang in my chest when the next thought hits me. I want to have a family with him, and to have mini Harry’s running around, both girls and boys. 
“There’s so much that I want with you, Harry,” I murmur aloud, the floral design on my comforter growing hazy as tears fill my eyes, but nothing could ever cloud the dreams that sit behind them. The multitudes of dreams that all take place with him, and that my heart yearns for so badly. I want to finally be able to call him mine, and even if he doesn’t know it, I’ve been his for longer than I’ve known.
The churning sound of the percolating coffee pot rouses me from my bed where I’ve been stuck, unable to leave for far too long. Belatedly, my feet touch the floor as the images sting inside of my head.
“You’re just getting up? You’re gonna be late, Ree,” Skye scoffs when I finally drag my feet into the kitchen, limbs heavy with tainted dreams and sleep. “Aren’t you going to have any coffee?”
My head goes from side to side in answer, hopefully scrambling the ideas and images that ache within my mind. I had already slid on something decent looking and ran a brush through my hair, stuffing any makeup I could find into my purse for a later time today. Grabbing a banana and a muffin from the box on the counter, I make my way for the door, feeling like a zombie, after all that’s already happened this morning.
“Ree, are you alright? You won’t be late, you know, you still have ten minutes before you need to leave. I was joking,” she calls after me, but when I don’t reply as I pull my black Chelsea boots past my black jeggings, I hear my name again. “Hey, what’s the matter?”
I refrain and push away for as long as I can, but when I reach for the closet door, her fingers painted three different colors stops me. Again, that nickname I’ve had for almost my entire life falls from her lips as she guides me over to the sofa.
“What is it? Did something happen?” she implores, but with my eyes glued to an unraveling tassel on the rug, I continue to ignore her until I can’t any longer.
“I had the weirdest dream of my entire life,” I confess softly, surprised at the sound of my own voice, and how much it sounded like that of the voice in my dream. The continuity of it all, as well as the numerous discrepancies only confuse me the more.
“Tell me about it, it must have bothered you. I can tell,” she encourages softly, running a hand through my wavy curls.
“I was at the firm with Harry, working with him,” I begin, soon hearing her question of how that was so weird until I shake my head, eyes still elsewhere. “I had just come back after a maternity leave, because we had a baby together. A girl. Her name was Iris, and I don’t know why because I don’t even like that name. I must have been working there again for a year or so, and his mum was taking care of her while the two of us worked. He got mad at me for not finding a good client for a new case, and then he said I could have anything I wanted to make up for it. I told him I wanted to play Strip Scrabble and we did in his office, and then we had sex on that very sofa in his office, Skye. Sex, like every single detail of it was in my dream. How could I know what his dick looks like if I’ve never seen it before? And we were talking about our daughter together so casually, and we were kissing, a-and-,” I come to a sudden stop, the words expiring from my lips as my eyes widen.
“Holy shit, that’s one intense dream, Ree. But, why was it so- Oh,” Skye replies, her hand falling to my arm that she runs her palm along soothingly. “Sorry, I haven’t had my coffee yet this morning either, so I’m a little slow to the punches.”
“It’s what I want, well besides naming my daughter Iris, because that was the name of the bully in our third-grade class who kept stealing my favorite erasers. I’d never name my daughter that. And ugh, how do I get there? I don’t even start for another five days, and I already miss him even though we’ve been texting. Now, I miss him even more because of that stupid wet dream,” I sigh, letting my head fall into my hands as my heart aches, another chip falling from the disintegrating armor within my chest.
“It sounds like to me that maybe you should pay a special visit to see a certain somebody today,” she suggests cheekily, her words lifting my head and turning it to her. “Come on, it’s not that hard, Ree. Make up an excuse to go and see him! Oh, you were just in the neighborhood, or you had to drop off a document that you didn’t actually have to do, or-.”
“Or, I could bring Asher lunch,” I suggest feebly, extending a hand forward in question.
“Yeah, make him jealous! Make him think that you’re there to bring him lunch and eat with him, but really it’s for Asher! He’ll go nuts, please do it or else I’m not talking to you for the rest of the day,” Skye squeals, hands coming together in a prayer-like fold. A shy giggle escapes my lips as I nod, the idea knitting together within my head, soon pushing away the dream. It’s not that easy though, because I know it’s going to take a long time to remember that vivid as fuck dream. Oh yes, a very long time, indeed.
“Who knew that four hours could feel so long,” I huff, standing to my feet and quickly sliding on my coat, hugging Skye as I begin to count down the minutes until my lunch break at one o’clock. I just hope to God that he’ll be around at that time. My monstrous doubts are silenced when I remember from last Friday that he waited until around that time to eat lunch, keeping his entire hour free to do just that.
Here I come, Harry. Well, Real Harry, not Dream Harry, but maybe one day he’ll be both of them. I can only hope, very hard. Maybe one day soon, it’ll finally pay off, all this hoping and dreaming.
+
“Since when do you bring me lunch?” Asher questions, confusion painting his face in waves as he stares dumbfounded at the brown paper bag in front of him.
“Because you’re one of my best friends, and I’m nice,” I answer feebly, shrugging my shoulders as I unwrap the greasy paper around the burger. An unsure laugh escapes his grinning lips as a golden chip disappears between them.
Soon, my burger is gone and so are my chips and drink. Meanwhile, Asher is still crunching away on his as I steal nervous glances at him. Wringing my hands in my lap, I nibble at the inside of my cheek anxiously.
“Okay, go already,” Asher sighs, waving a hand at me to shoo.
“What?”
“I know you’re not here for me,” he begins firmly, but when my eyes narrow at him, his face relaxes. “And it’s okay. I appreciate the lunch, but go see him already, Becky. I’m sure he’s dying to see you too.”
“You’re sure?”
“Yes, get out of here already,” he grins while picking up another chip dotted with salt.
“Thanks, Ash!” I exclaim with a beaming smile. “You’re the best!” I finish on the way out his door.
“I’ll remember you said that!” he laughs in return as I already trek down the hallway, failing to ignore my heart hammering against my rib cage. There it is again, Asher speaking for how Harry feels, as if he knows him when I thought they’ve spoken like three times in total? Hmm, weird, again.
Like it so usually is, his hallway is empty, and I just hope that I won’t be interrupting something. An important phone call. A meeting. A consultation with a potential client. Or that all of this is for nothing and his office is empty, because he’s at one of the courthouses around town. God, I really hope it’s not that last one.
Again, like so many times before, his door is closed when I arrive in front of it. Somehow, it sends a tingle down my spine reading his name etched into his door, and the boasting title below it. Something I can’t remember doing very much, and I can’t recall why. It catches me off guard, which is rare, because most of the time he’s just Harry. My Harry. Then, I remember that he’s this insanely successful and well-known lawyer who co-owns this law firm, and it throws me for a loop. Not to mention the stunner that he’s my boss, again.
With a deep breath, I bring my fist to the glass and knock. I straighten my black Columbia opened to my floral blouse and smooth down my black slacks. I just hope I look more than decent after swiping mascara onto my lashes before coming here. But after waiting a few moments, I realize that I’m worried about it all for nothing when there’s no answer. I did this all for nothing.
Turning around, my chest falls with a sigh and my head hangs low, until I hear a sound. My name. Glancing up, a smile breaks it way onto my lips at the sight in front of me.
“Dunno if I can trust me eyes. ‘s that Becks I see waitin’ at me door?” he rasps with that adorable breathy laugh, walking towards me with the ancient messenger bag strewn across his chest. “Hullo, darlin.’ T’ what do I owe tha pleasure?” Harry asks, stopping just a step away as a smile clings to his lips, its exit nowhere in sight. Yeah, my smile feels rather eternal as well.
“Hi, Harry. I almost thought I had missed you,” I shrug, realizing too late the irony in my words, but all of a sudden, I don’t really care what he makes of them. After all of this time, I’m so sick of hiding my secret.
“Yer right on time, bug. I jus’ got back from me mornin’ in court,” he murmurs, the honey sticking to every word he speaks. He nods his messy head of chestnut curls towards his office as he unlocks it, and I gladly follow him. “Seems tha last thing we were talkin’ ‘bout in our texts was what food we’ve been cookin’. Do I get any o’ those brownies yet?”
“Not quite yet,” I grin, keeping my hands hidden behind my back as I observe his movements.
“Shucks, ‘ve really been lookin’ forward t’ ‘em, ya make ‘em sound so good,” he giggles softly, draping his North Face over the back of his office chair.
His long legs clad in a pastel purple suit carry him over to his sofa where he drops his messenger bag with a plop, and it all comes rushing back to me. The sofa. That baby pink suit. The Scrabble game board and tiles that I don’t know the next time that I’ll be able to touch without that dream ruining it for me. The stupid name, Iris, that funny enough doesn’t seem too bad now. That confusing dream, and all that it entailed.
“Alright?” Harry says, his deep voice pulling me back to the present. I blink hard and focus my eyes back on him, soon nodding. “Good. How ya been since yer orientation last week? Sorry we haven’t spoken much, ‘ve been busy with this case ‘m finishin’ up.”
“It’s okay and I’m good, maybe this will help,” I answer, setting down the striped white and blue paper bag. His eyes fall to it and his smile grows, reaching all edges of his blushing face.
“Becks, you didn’t,” he chuckles, reaching forward and prying open the bag. “Aw, love, ya rememba’d. Thank you, ‘s been too long since ‘ve had one o’ these muffins, they’re me favourite,” Harry finishes, setting down the bag smelling of croissants and sugar cookies.
His favorite muffin in the entire world sits inside wrapped in waxed paper, a lemon poppy seed muffin with a powdered sugar glaze. It took, let’s just say a lot in me to not eat it myself in the lift, because after he introduced them to me, I became addicted to them too. They have to be the most delicious and light muffins I’ve ever had, and not to mention incredibly flavorful and yes, moist.
“I hope ya got yerself one, I know ya like ‘em too.”
“Don’t worry, I couldn’t resist. I ate a little bit on the way here, and then I’m going to save the rest for later,” I tell him, clasping my hands together and twirling the ring around my finger anxiously.
“Jus’ how I taught ya, ‘atta girl,” he nods with the happiness consuming his features - eyes, cheeks, and all. “Thank you, Becks . . But I hope ya didn’t make a special trip jus’ fer a muffin.”
“It’s okay,” I reply with a shrug of my shoulders, my attention lingering on the sincerity held in his thank you, and in his eyes during those three simple words. Not simple enough. “I picked up burgers to have with Asher, so I was uh, in the neighborhood.”
“Ah, I see,” he nods, rolling up the lip of the bag to keep it fresh. Scratching at his cheek, he avoids my gaze and sure enough, Skye is right.
Is he jealous?
Oh, girl, he is jealous indeed. You better use it to your advantage.
I just might, but I don’t know if I have it in me for those kinds of games, anymore.
Becky, you better.
“‘m glad ya stopped, ‘s good t’ see you. Are ya on yer lunch break or sumthin’?” he wonders aloud, bare nails tapping along the head of his chair his hands drape over. Why oh why, does he have to stand so far away? It’s killing me. He receives his answer when my head rises and falls with a nod. “Mmmm, I figured.”
“I should probably go, I don’t want to take up too much of your time,” I announce suddenly, lies laced through every single syllable I regrettably speak.
The heaviness in my gut at having to leave grows another few pounds when I watch the disappointment leech the happiness from his face. I’m sure Sophie wouldn’t mind if I was late returning after my break if I told her who I was with. This is due to during each free moment we have, I may or may not be telling her all about him. She may or may not be loving every second of it, and so do I.
“Yer neva a botha, Becks. I dunno why ya’ve always thought that. I love seein’ ya, but if ya hafta get back t’ work I undastand,” Harry mumbles, fingertips pressing into the black leather quickly. “But hey, next week this will be yer place o’ work again, kinda mad t’ think. Inn’a good way, tho.’”
“I know, I can’t wait,” I smile, his echoing mine already as the dimples live in his cheeks covered in more dark stubble than the last time I saw him. Holy hell, am I not complaining about it. “I like the stubble by the way,” I blurt out, ghosting a hand over my cheeks to refer to his.
A buttery laugh flows from his lips as he runs his long digits over his cheeks, suddenly turning me into the jealous one within seconds. “Thanks, I dunno what ‘m doin’ with it really. It doesn’t make me look too old or anythin’, does it?”
“No, it looks really good on you. You look great, Harry,” I confess, waiting for that hot embarrassment to cover me in waves, but it doesn’t. Instead, a sense of contentment washes over me, and I’m grateful for finally telling the truth, however insignificant.
“Thank you, bug. You do as well, in yer uh, courthouse outfit. I shoulda stopped t’ say hi this mornin’ when I was there, sorry I didn’t think o’ it. This case has jus’ been mad, I can’t wait fo’ it t’ be ova.”
“I guess it’s okay, as long as you say hi the next time,” I tell him, hands clasped behind my back again. Another titter sings from his lips as the words hit me, knowing full well that that would be tomorrow, and boy, do I want to show him off to everybody. Even if he’s just my new boss and my friend right now. For now.
“Ya have me promise on that one, and I like yer hair longa again, y’know. Ya look like me Becks again, it was different bein’ all short befo’. Still pretty, jus’ different,” he comments, nodding his head at me once again, helping him talk. Yeah, I’d probably have to do the same thing if it was me, because I would undoubtedly be struggling for words after what he just said. Man, oh man.
A soft ‘thank you’ leaves me in reply, and I think for the first time the silence isn’t awkward. I wonder if for him too it’s full of so many unspoken words that I’m dying to say, or if that’s just me. So often, I doubt that he feels the same way about me, but God, when he looks at me like I’m the only person in the world, I can’t remember what doubts are. And I swear he looks at me that way every single time.
I wish I could do it all right now, or even just one something. One kiss, but I need to wait. I should wait until he comes back from that case, and things are established with my new job. Standing here before him, I remember the plan I made, and like he keeps his promises, I decide to keep this one. No matter if it’s the hardest one I’ve ever made in my entire life, and I know it’ll be the hardest one to keep.
“I’ll leave you to your muffin and your case then, Harry. It was good to see you, I’ll um, text you,” I announce finally, feeling the weight in my words. The longing. The anticipation. The regret. The excitement. The everything.
“Thanks fer stoppin’, Becks, I enjoyed yer li’l surprise visit. ‘s always so good t’ see you. Have a good rest o’ yer day, and I can’t wait fer tha muffin. Thanks again. ‘ll talk t’ ya soon, bug,” he smiles before I return it with a breathy ‘bye’ and then turn around, and wonder why this was so hard.
I wonder why I was nervous about this all morning, and also why I never took Skye’s advice before in the last two years and stopped to say hi to him. Lastly, I soon realize why, because it even hurts to walk away from him now when everything is so close. I know now if I had done the same thing all of those times Skye had told me to, I don’t think I could have handled leaving him and not being able to come back in just a few more days, like I get to do now. I have so much ahead of me, and he’ll be there every day, just as he promised.
Finally.
+
For some godawful reason, my department is always the busiest in the middle of the week, and two years after working here, I still don’t know why. The number of forms I’ve had to distribute, collect, and then do the job of submitting already this morning boggles my mind. Finally, I found a gap in the craziness to grab a cup of tea and a chance to catch my breath. Unfortunately, the fancy teas that I had been enjoying my few moments of peace and quiet with have since disappeared, and nothing but green tea and English Breakfast remain.
“It looks like I need to do some shopping, I’m sorry for the depressing tea drawer, love,” a voice murmurs from behind me as I linger there with the drawer open.
“It’s okay, I don’t have English Breakfast enough, anyways,” I comment, feigning complacency because I was really looking forward to a refreshing fruity cup of tea. I craved something exciting to break up the monotony of today, and training my replacement in. An experience I’ve never once enjoyed.
“You only have a few days left, love. How’re you feeling about it?” Sophie questions, arriving at my side with a pat to my arm. “Wait, I dunno why I asked. If I were you, I’d be itching to get out of here too after the shit storm this morning was,” she laughs as she opens the fridge, muttering about the lack of anything good to eat or drink around here. Our laughs mingle with the other’s during the next few minutes as I debate whether or not to make a cup of tea, finally deciding the need for caffeine is greater than that of my stubborn taste buds.
The rest of the day was rather steady with the flow of people in and out, making it unfortunate for my ‘browsing lawyer outfits’ time, and fortunate for my replacement’s training. Thank God, they dipped out a few hours before we closed, so I could stop feeling like somebody was breathing over my shoulder. At least by now, they seem to have mostly everything down pat, and I soon got to take over the role of ‘the breathing over the shoulder.’ Not soon enough, though.
The tea hadn’t quite done the job, and my lunch was rather unfulfilling as well, but I had gotten used to that sensation recently. With only a few hours left of the work day, I saw my end in my sight, and yet every time I looked at the clock, only a few more minutes had passed. Then of course, we had run out of copies of a certain form, leading moi to have to make more. Yipee!
It was just one of those days, because next thing I know, a stranger is almost biting my head off for telling him he needs his birth certificate for a form, as if I made the rule or something. It all only kept reminding me of how happy I was to be leaving this job soon, no matter how good it had been to me over the last two years. I couldn’t leave soon enough, I was on my last straw.
“Becky, you’re being requested,” a coworker of mine tells me from over my shoulder. I hurriedly slide the new copies of yet another form onto the shelf behind the front desk.
“What now?” I grumble under my breath, trying to turn around without bumping into her behind the front desk where we handle all of the customers, if you want to call them that. The public, the people, the clients- the whatever.
A huff passes my lips and by now, I’m done slapping on a cheery smile for a stranger, because it doesn’t even pay to do it anymore. But when I find the smiling face that awaits me, I don’t even have to think about putting on a happy face, because a smile is already claiming my lips.
“Harry, h-hi,” I say, the words tumbling clumsily from my lips.
“Hi, Becks. How are you?” he asks adamantly, lips settling into a content smile with one corner greeting his cheek. I could never see enough of those dimples, I really couldn’t.
“I’m okay,” I sigh, my eyebrows touching my forehead before falling.
“Rough day, love?” he hums softly, and I nod in response, somehow hearing all of the extra words inside of his. “‘m sorry, seems we’re both havin’ a shitty day, but I hope this’ll help,” he finishes, bringing forth an arm draped in his familiar warm gray blazer, setting down a tall white Starbucks drink in front of me. I know without needing to taste it that it’s my favorite drink, my drink. I already know that he remembered, and soon the name of the drink falls from his lips.
“Thank you so much, it’s much appreciated. You’ve always had a good memory, it’s something I know you for.”
“‘s it now?” he titters softly, his thumb and forefinger finding a distraction with his bottom lip for the twentieth time, not at all to my dismay. “‘m glad it’ll help, bug. I jus’ got in a few minutes ago fer anotha day o’ arguin’ me case.”
“Oh, well thanks so much for thinking of me, it was sweet of you.”
“‘Course, Becks, I couldn’t not come and say hi t’ me favourite person here at tha courts,” he smiles, and the combination of that grin and those words light that fire inside of me that was rekindled when I got to see him yesterday.
My oh my, two days in a row now. I am one lucky girl.
Only a few more days, Becky, and you get to be lucky every day!
Maybe you even get to be a certain kind of lucky, hehe.
Stop.
“Are those blushin’ cheeks, I see?” he teases, setting down his arms to rest them on the space where people usually lay down their forms and the like. Yet, here he is standing there in that warm gray blazer he wore for my class lecture, a suit I’ll never forget.
“Stop,” I laugh, trying to fix my hair, and soon remembering the embarrassment that is my lack of makeup. Once again, I didn’t even try this morning, and I admittedly spaced that I told him to come and say hi today.
And here he is, just as he promised he would be.
Yes, just he like he promised. God, can he get any better?
Yeah, if the two of you fucking kissed already.
Tell me about it.
“Ya look even prettier when ya blush, y’know that?” he snickers, that familiar song leaving his lips and finding its way to my heart, just like it so often does. I have a feeling he’s not letting up on the brake either in the honesty department, and I’m so surprised I don’t know what to do with this onslaught of feelings.
My glowing smile that couldn’t grow any bigger doesn’t get a chance to let any words out, because we probably look like idiots just staring at each other. Yet, I wouldn’t have it any other way, and I think that’s becoming my tagline for this whole entire thing. Sure, I wish things could have been easier from the get go, but I’ve come to peace with not being able to change the past. Especially, when I’m so excited about the future and all of the multitudes it holds.
“So do you, you know,” I reply mischievously, suddenly wishing I could pull off a wink like he can so effortlessly as he does that very thing.
“Good one, Becks,” he tsks, shaking his head as he wags a finger at me. What I would do to be able to touch it and to hold that hand. Wow, I need to get myself under control, but I really don’t want to. “Ah, ‘s this yer lovely boss I spoke t’ on tha phone?” Harry says, turning his attention to Sophie who had slipped behind the desk to grab something, but now her eyes are on him.
“Hi, I don’t believe we’ve met,” she announces, taking his hand that he holds out. Silently, I applaud how she pretends that she doesn’t know who this is, as if I haven’t shown her a few pictures of him already. It may have been a few, or enough that she’s decided she prefers him with the longer hair from before. “I’m Sophie Waters, Court Administrator here, and you are?”
“Harry Styles, Attorney at Law, from Styles and Lawson. ‘m uh Becky’s former boss, and well, new boss now. I jus’ stopped t’ say hi befo’ continuin’ me case t’day down tha hall,” Harry replies with a warm smile, once again any hand shrinking in comparison to his massive one. There are very few things that surprise me about him anymore, and yet I’m still surprised by the attentiveness, kindness, and professionalism he carries every time I’m present for him meeting somebody. I’ve witnessed it a handful of times now, and it still makes me melt as if it could never grow old.
“Oh, it’s a pleasure to meet you as well, Mr. Styles. I’ve heard a lot about you from Becky,” she responds gently, faking the brightness in her eyes at the realization of connecting the dots. I think we have him fooled, Sophie. Yes!
“Please, call me Harry. I get enough o’ ‘Mr. Styles’ as it ‘s,” he tells her, lifting a hand into the air to accentuate his words. “Oh, has she now? Should I be worried?” he wonders aloud to Sophie, peeking an eye over at me with a raised eyebrow, stroking his hairy chin. The dimple sits in his left cheek again, and he surprises me with another wink before returning his attention to Sophie. It continues to amaze me how he always devotes his attention to whoever he’s speaking to, and yet he still seems to be fully present with me.
“No, not at all, it’s all been very nice. She’s quite fond of you as well, and I know she’s excited to come back and work with you, even though I’ll miss her.”
My eyes dart from Sophie’s bittersweet smile to that of Harry’s whose eyes linger on me without my knowing, and I wonder what they hold. As if I haven’t asked myself this question time and time again, I wish I could know what he’s thinking. I wish I could ask, and that he would tell me.
“I can’t wait t’ have her back with me at me firm next week. Thank you fer takin’ such good care o’ her here tha last two years. I know she’s enjoyed it, and tha experience will help her loads fer when she comes back t’ work with me as my mentee,” he continues, and I swear that somehow he manages to be sexy while talking about him being my mentor. I think he knows, and that perhaps he has some inkling that it’s my favorite part about this whole thing. I could never hear too much about it.
“You’re very welcome, and I trust you’ll take good care of her again. I’m certainly looking forward to seeing what our little Becky will do, and running into her in the halls here. Speaking of which, why don’t you walk him to the courtroom? I think things are dying down here as of now,” she encourages, goodbyes soon bid between the both of them. A tight lipped smile plays on my lips as I look at her over my shoulder while he leads the way. She just shrugs her shoulders with the tiniest of waves, and I silently thank her repeatedly.
“She’s very nice,” he comments once we reach the hallway, and it all feels new. Then again, it’s hard to tell when there are so many new things going on in my life as of late.
“Yeah, she is. She’s been a really great boss and friend,” I respond, clasping my hands together as our footsteps follow the other, both in sounds and in distance. “But you’re my favourite boss of all time.”
“Am I now?” he boasts, flitting his eyes to mine with a effervescence behind them as his dark eyebrows dance overhead. I only nod, but it’s soon captured by a giggle when his arm comes around my shoulders and pulls me against him. “Good. I better be yer favourite, Becks.”
“Don’t go messing it up now!” I squeal when I feel his fingers on my side, finding my ticklish spots that he still remembers.
“Don’t worry, I neva would, Becks. Neva again will I mess it up with you,” he whispers, long fingers drifting to my shoulder that he squeezes. Glancing upwards, I find his sincere eyes waiting for mine and they take away another chunk of the wall around my heart. There’s not much left of it now.
“Am I your favourite, too?”
“Favourite what, bug?” he inquires, eyes darting away at times to watch where we’re going, but by now we’ve wandered to the side of the hallway and stopped. I too wonder where I’m going with this.
“I don’t know, maybe-.”
“Ya, yer me favourite one,” he answers, interrupting suddenly.
“I didn’t even get to say what,” I protest, but it all collapses into a giggle that he soon copies.
“Doesn’t matta, ya still are, no matta what it ‘s. Oh hey, looks like we’re in tha right place, this ‘s me courtroom fer tha afternoon.”
Although painstaking, my eyes leave him to find the wooden doors of Courtroom #3 just across the way. The confession that just fell between us and the reminder that he has to leave combine into a tragic concoction. In the same breath, they fill me with something I haven’t had for a long time. Bravery.
“I should let you go then, literally,” I giggle, stepping away and letting his arm fall from my shoulder, a triumph in itself. “Good luck with your case today, I hope everything goes well. You’ll do great, Harry, I know it,” I tell him, taking hold of one of his hands like I’ve wanted to do for the last ten minutes, and possibly much, much longer.
“Thank ya, bug. Maybe ‘ll do good afta seein’ me good luck charm,” he mumbles, a warm pink filling his cheeks as his eyebrows lift with a nod to me. “Hopefully ‘m all finished t’day, or at tha latest t’morrow. Then I get some time t’ relax and plan ahead befo’ you come along next week.”
“Hey!” I scoff, and he surrenders with that delightful song his lips create as I squeeze his hand.
“I didn’t mean it like that, jus’ gotta get ready fer t-this new beginnin’, bug. That’s all. Y’know ‘ve been lookin’ forward t’ it . . eva since ya got tha job,” he insists, but I was never upset. He was right that one time, I can read him as good as anybody else I’m close to. His expressions, his tics, and the words he doesn’t say.
“I know, I’m just giving you a hard time, which you better get ready for, Styles. You won’t need it, but again, good luck today, Harry,” I announce, the syllables shaky as they fly from my lips. I just hope he can’t feel the trembles devastating my body in this very moment as I stand on my tippy toes and press my lips to his prickly cheek. “You’ll have to let me know how it goes.”
“I will, Becks. Promise,” Harry says, the two dimples alive and well in his reddening cheeks when I dare to look him in the eyes after that. A gentle squeeze from his hand accentuates his words. A short breathy laugh escapes his happy lips as he looks back at me, and even though we again look dumb staring at the other, I think we shared a few more words in that moment. Ones we weren’t sure of how to say or when to say them, but we still did. “Have a good rest o’ yer day. ‘s always a treat t’ see ya, bug.”
“You too, Harry, thanks for saying hi. You may have made my day.”
“May have, hmm? ‘s that right? I wonder what I could do t’ actually make it,” he ponders aloud, doing that dorky thing again where he strokes his nonexistent beard. Dorky or not, I love it more than I could know. An eyebrow nears his forehead wrinkled in his quizzical expression that’s dissolved by another breathy laugh, all while his thumb draws circles onto my knuckles. “Maybe I should take one from yer book, hmm?” I barely have the time to think about what he means or for the emotion to play on my face, because he dips down and places a kiss on my cheek. To top it all off, his other hand comes to cup my head as he presses another kiss there, his fingers affectionately tickling my hair as he does so.
“Bye, bug. It made me day two days in a row gettin’ t’ see you. I dunno what ‘ll do gettin’ t’ see ya e’ry day next week, and two weeks afta that, and e’ry week afta that,” he reveals in a whisper against my hair, giving my hand a gentle squeeze before letting go.
If there weren’t theoretical butterflies in my tummy before now, they’re surely alive and well now as I watch him walk away, and give me a wink over his shoulder before disappearing into the chambers. All because of the words he just said, and the proximity of his lips to mine just a few moments ago. I think he just might know how I feel about top of the head kisses, and it’s all thanks to him. I have so very much to thank him for.
I think I know what I’m going to do about it, Harry. Oh yes, I do and you’re making this waiting game all the harder when you do things like that.
+
The next few days until I started back at the firm sometimes went painstakingly slow, and at other times, they flew by like a breeze. I think the long texting conversations with Harry helped the time pass. It went by with the speed of molasses when I sat at my desk during my last few days wishing I was sitting at another desk, longing to be somewhere else. More than once, a random text from Harry brightened my day, whether it was a song he thought I’d like, a recipe for a baked good, more often a mixed drink, or something about the show FRIENDS.
Now, with shaking knees I reverse my steps until my back runs into the little rest on the wall of the lift. As I watch the number climb higher, the thrashing of my heart quickens as it nears the one I wait for. Quickly, the pan held in my hands and the jade-colored blouse I wear both feel stupid and inadequate. I’ve been dying for this day to come, and yet here I am, feeling as if I’ll die from my overactive nerves, now that it’s here.
The doors soon part with a ding, and Seventeen comes back to me, too quickly and at the same time, not quick enough. I can’t get my legs to move as the anxiousness attempts to consume me, but as the doors begin to slide shut, I make it out just in time. Few people linger in the lobby this morning, seemingly waiting for appointments and trekking back and forth from the printer and other places. The very person my eyes, and perhaps heart, search for this morning is nowhere to be found. On my way down the hallway, my feet stray to my office that beckons for me, and it’s like the first time all over again.
It’s cozy and the lights inside of it are warm and mellow. The natural light seeping in through the window to London might be my favorite part, although there are so many good features to it. I say hi to the succulent as I set down my handheld laptop bag, over the chest purse, and the covered pan. The sight of it all and what it means, brings tears to my eyes that I knew were coming, but I weakly attempt to whisk them away. Sniffling, my lips greet my cheeks as I take another look around. This is all mine, and all thanks to Harry whose touch I can see in so many places.
“Alright?” a voice murmurs from behind me, and I don’t need to turn around to know who it is. But I do, and there he stands, waiting for me with a smile brimming with warmth. Slowly, this all feels too good to be true, and yet it feels so right and so overdue. “Come and give yer new boss a hug, will ya?” I don’t need to be told twice and within moments, his spicy vanilla scent engulfs me once more, welcoming me home.
Finally, oh finally, I’m home again.
“Jus’ gonna assume those are happy tears,” he hums from above me, and I nod into his shoulder with a giggle that matches his own. “Good, I may have shed some o’ my own, but ‘m not revealin’ all o’ me secrets t’day.”
With dried tears on my cheeks and a song inside of my chest, he squeezes me before I pull away to find his sparkling green eyes.
“Hi, Harry.”
“Hiya, Becks. Ya ready fer yer first official day as a lawyer at Styles and Lawson?” Harry beams, brushing his thumb across each of my cheeks briefly, lastly tapping my nose.
“Yeah, sure.”
“Sure? I was expectin’ mo’ excitement outta you. Why dontcha sound so confident ‘bout it, bug?”
“I’m just nervous. I don’t want to screw anything up, or do something wrong,” I reveal slowly, feeling the weight of my words that hold more meanings than I can accept. I can’t even fathom the thought of him reading into all of it, knowing how well we know the other.
“Deep breaths, Becks. Ya did wondaful on yer orientation day, and I know you’ll do bloody amazin’ t’day. ‘m here t’ help with that, t’ guide ya and help ya learn. We’ll start off slow t’day - we have a team meetin’ in half an hour at nine-thirty. There, ya can meet e’rybody ‘gain properly and they can meet you. I know they’ll all love ya too, bug,” he explains with a gentleness to his speech, and yet it doesn’t help me relax, and only makes my heart slam against my rib cage harder. “Hey, relax ‘kay? Then tha rest o’ tha day we’ll start t’ work on me case I have next week. Afta some o’ that, we’ll take a break, and prolly play some cribbage while we eat lunch. Durin’ all o’ this, ‘ll introduce ya t’ some stuff, and tha processes we have t’ use. I know we went ova ‘em durin’ yer orientation, but this will all be a refresher. We went ova most o’ tha legalities and borin’ proper rubbish last time, so we can dive in this time. Ya ready?”
I nod and begin to turn away, but then I feel his hand squeeze my arm. Looking back, he winks at me with a few encouragements behind his eyes. I try to hold onto them after they disappear when his eyes dart to my desk.
“Becks, are those what I think they are?” he almost groans through gritted teeth, but happily. His hands escape from his wine colored pockets and slowly reach for the pan sitting on my desk.
“Mmmhmm, but you can only eat one right now.”
“Yer no fun,” he pouts as he brings a dark, chocolatey square to his lips. The war being fought within my gut, or so it feels, rages on as I wait for his reaction. “Fook, these are incredible brownies, and ya made ‘em from scratch? Yer bloody amazin’, Becks.”
“You’re welcome, I’m relieved you like them. I forget to ask if you like cakey brownies, or fudgey brownies.”
“Fudgey, all tha way. ‘m no pussy,” he cracks, picking up the pan and plopping onto my sofa with it held possessively in his lap.
“Oh good, I’m so glad you said that. If you had said anything else, I don’t think we could be friends anymore,” I reveal sarcastically, falling onto the pillow cushions beside him.
“Bloody hell, ya’d neva break up with me ova sumthin’ as stupid as that, although brownie preference ‘s very important,” Harry scoffs, his eyes falling to the pan where he plucks another small square from, handing it to me. “Alright, afta we’re done with our brownies, are ya ready t’ start this thing, bug?” he wonders aloud and earns a nod from me, knocking his knee against mine casually. I try not to freak out when he leaves it resting there, or when I have to pull away to use the bathroom.
After taking my time in the bathroom, noting the extensions of the remodel to even this part of the firm, I wander into the break room with the same intentions. Memories are thrown at me from every direction, and I try not to dwell on the negative ones, but they overwhelm me. All of the shared lunches with Asher venting about Harry. Hiding from Harry in here when he had gotten mad at me for whatever ungodly reason it was that day. The pathetic cold lunches I would bring. I especially feel the sting when I remember that time I walked in on Harry kissing Amber, and he came here to look for me afterwards. That one perhaps hurts the most, because it brings up all of the others that revolve around her and what she did to me. She was the real reason I left in the first place, because she got the dominoes falling.
“How’s your first day been so far? I hope it’s off to a good start,” somebody comments from behind me, curiosity behind their words. Looking over my shoulder, I find Myles strolling in with an empty cup that he sets down by the electric tea kettle on the counter.
“It’s going good so far, thanks. I just got here a few minutes ago, but it’s a little daunting, I must say.”
“Yeah, it can be, but don’t let it get to you. Harry will be there every step of the way, and I know he’s over the moon about having you back, and working with him on top of it all,” he assures me with a gentle smile as he rinses out the mug. There it is again, him and Asher keep doing it, and it’s not helping with this whole ‘trying not to go crazy over Harry thing’ all over again. Well, too soon, that is.
“Thank you, really,” I nod appreciatively. “Hey, while I have you here, I was wondering if you have any plans for his big birthday on Friday?”
“Eh, not really, he doesn’t want anything. He’s already upset about turning thirty.”
“What, how come? I tease him about getting old, but it’s just a number, and it’s really not that old,” I comment, watching his shoulders rise only to fall as he rips open a packet of tea I didn’t catch the name of.
“Yeah, I know, but I dunno. He said he thought he’d have more to show for being thirty, and that it’s depressing to him, or something.”
“Oh, so co-owning a renowned law firm, and being one of the most successful lawyers in London isn’t enough for him at thirty?” I scoff, observing the smile bending his lips upwards while the hot water gurgles into his mug.
“I told him the same thing and I’m sure you know him well enough to know how swimmingly that went. It seems you know him better than me in some rights,” he tuts, jigging the bag of tea up and down in the steaming water.
“Sometimes I think so, and other times not so much,” I comment, the words getting the better of me as my voice falls to a melancholy whisper. “We should do something for his birthday, though. We could at least do a cake and lunch.”
“That would be perfect. I’ll order pizzas from that pizzeria he likes over on Juniper Street, and we can have some drinks too.”
“Sounds great, I’ll take care of the cake. I remember he loves chocolate a little too much sometimes,” I laugh, and he nods while one sits at the edges of his mouth. “All we have left to do then is to tell everybody, well except for Rory, because I don’t know, he seems like he can’t keep a secret. I hear he has a big mouth, so that’s probably why, and he’s also too flirty.”
The laugh finally explodes from Myles’ lips as he adds a fresh spoon to his aromatic mug, fitting a finger through the handle as his lips part, “Right you are, Becky. I knew I was right to let Harry convince me to hire you, because you’re as smart as a whip.”
My own chuckling soon matches Myles’ and it continues for a few more moments, before we part our separate ways, and soon I get to meet the entire firm. It was overwhelming, which seemed to be the word of the day for me. I had recognized only a few of them from when I had worked here before, but a few more of them I’d never met, even though they’ve worked here for years. I was sure I wouldn’t be able to memorize the names of the dozen or so lawyers that make up the legal team at the firm, but with Harry by my side, I could breathe a little easier.
“How d’ya think yer first day went, Becks?” Harry hums, playing with his bottom lip from his perch across from me.
“Good, I think I’ll feel better now that it’s done. There’s so much pressure on having a good first day,” I answer, exhaling when I place my last card down. “Twenty seven for six.”
“Ya did bloody great per usual, and a go ‘s seven, which makes you tha winna,” Harry tsks, shaking his head while he tosses the rest of the cards down in a huff. “Looks like ya got some luck from yer first day right there. I thought I had ya at tha beginnin’, but I reckon yer gettin’ good at this game. Beginner’s luck right there, beatin’ me in our first game in years.”
“Thank you, boss,” I reply, trying to forget the connotations of that word from that confusing dream I had. When I lift my eyes to his, stretching out my hand of cards, his grin grows a fraction as his hand surrounds mine. “Good game.”
“Good game, love. Ya should head out now, ‘s already five-thirty, unless ya’d like t’ grab a few celebratory drinks with me. Again.”
“I’d love to. Did you drive the bike to work this morning?” I inquire, letting the expectant happiness loose on my face as I watch it unravel on his.
“Perhaps, and I may have packed an extra coat in case sumbody gets cold again.”
Once again, words escape me as we pack up the cribbage game while laughing, setting the board and cards on the bookshelf above us on the sofa. A few words suffice an escape to my office where I pack up, realizing I never touched my laptop, glancing over to the brand new rose gold Macbook Pro he surprised me with. I swear he can pull a tear from me like no other person can, in a good and bad way, and it didn’t help when he explained he chose it over a cheaper iMac. The tears came harder when he ended it by telling me that it’s because I’ll be spending so much time with him in his office, and it’s easier to tote around.
“Ready t’ go, bug? I found this new shot called a B-52 that I want us t’ try, sounds like sumthin’ we’d like coz it’s a creamy coffee type o’ one,” Harry says, catching me off guard from his stance leaning against my doorway. Once again, I swear he knows the things he does to me, especially in that wine colored suit hugging his trim body. My favorite color, and he knows it too. I murmur a short response as I slide on my coat, placing my back to him as I drape my purse over my shoulder. “Figured we could grab dinna befo’ if ya wanted, me tummy’s makin’ all these weird noises tellin’ me ‘s hungry.”
“That sounds great,” I hum happily, peering down to fasten the buttons on my coat. I wonder where that melancholy went from all of the times I dreaded the end of our visits, unsure of when I’d see him next. A thought finds its way up my warming cheeks when I realize that it’s here at last, the end of that and the beginning of getting to see his smiling face every single morning. Again. It grows bigger when another thought rushes on by.
It’s one more day of keeping my promise, and the end of it is in sight. It’s just another day, and one just like it will be here tomorrow and all of the tomorrows after that.
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inkribbon796 · 4 years
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The Merits of a Hero
Summary: Chase wants to be a hero, more than anything he just wants to help.If only Anti would stop finding him. A belated birthday post for Chase.
A/N: This is late, so very late, but I wanted to make something for the Septic Dad because he doesn’t get enough love.
“Okay,” Chase smiled, trying to be confident in what was probably the most dangerous mission he’d taken in weeks.
J.J was just watching him, giving an encouraging smile. Between them was Mark’s dog Chica, graciously loaned by Mark, much to his reluctance to have her be a part of their mission. Several pets had gone missing all over town for the past few months. At first the authorities had written it off as a regular occupancy, but the sheer volume could no longer be ignored.
So Chase was standing in the middle of a darkening street, most of the neighborhood hurrying inside sooner than usual due to all the disappearance of their pets, and the remaining pet owners wanted to keep the pets they had safe.
But using Silver’s dog as bait wasn’t the only thing that made it dangerous, it was the fact that the mayor was supposed to come in disguise and bring his cat since the man’s poor luck might help them catch the culprit.
“You okay?” J.J signed.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” Chase signed back, scratching Chica behind her ears afterwards. “All I gotta do is keep tabs on two pets an’ the Mayor, an’ Anti obviously has nothing ta do wit’ missing pets so e’erythin’ should be fine.”
“Average?” Damien hissed as he walked up, not in a suit and with a hat obscuring his eyes.
“Yah have trouble findin’ us?” Chase smiled, looking at the cat carrier in his hand. “That’s yer cat?”
Damien smiled, “Yeah, I didn’t name him, but he won’t respond to anything else.”
Chica was looking at the larger dog, watching Damien cautiously. “So what’s the plan? Leave them out in the middle of the park and wait for something or animal control to get them?”
“This the part of town that most of the animals have been disappearing from, Abe set us up with a place we can leave them and watch from a distance. Then all we need to do is wait.”
The Mayor nodded, “Hopeful not too long.”
“If we can be done an’ have yah back at yer desk, wit’in an hour, we’ll do it,” Chase promised the Mayor.
“I’ve already closed up my office, I’m going home after this,” Damien told them. He looked at Chica. “Is this either of your dog? Or did you borrow one from the neighbors?”
“Nah this is Silver’s dog, aren’t yah Chica Beeka?” Chase smiled, scratching the dog again. “Her name’s Chica.”
“Let’s get to the house, I don’t like how exposed it is out here,” Damien suggested.
J.J was quick to agree and led the two to a house to a house that bordered a patch of trees. Once they got to the apartment Damien set the crate down. J.J quickly signed something at the Mayor and Chase interpreted for him. “Do you want us to set up some type of boundary for your cat?”
“No need,” Damien opened up the carrier door, and a black shadow jumped out, a bell tinkling and the moon hitting a pair of blue eyes that almost glowed in the dark. The feline jumped to the top of the carrier before using it to jump onto Damien’s shoulders. “He’s got good manners.”
“Wow,” Chase complimented, watching Damien stand and keep his cat elegantly draped over his shoulders. “Didn’t know cats could do that. What’s its name?”
Damien’s mouth became a flat line. “Damien.”
“You named your cat after yourself?” J.J smiled, his hands moving more than a little bit quicker.
“No,” Damien glared at him. “My . . . someone else named him and that name stuck, unfortunately. I would have preferred something else, but he won’t listen to anything else.”
The cat began hissing, jumping down from Damien’s shoulders. Chica began barking. All three of them turned into the direction the animals were reacting to. The trees began to shake, as if something huge was moving through them.
J.J tapped Chase and signed, “That’s not a coyote.”
“Yeah,” Chase said, as the reptilian head of a massive tortoise poked its head from the trees, its shell looked like it was made of metal plates. On the back of its shell, sat Anti like some flashy emperor.
“Aww, fook,” Chase muttered in panic.
“Chase, Jay Man, what’s—” Anti smiled, then looked at Damien. Then he began glitching,clearly furious. “Da fook you doing here?
Damien and his cat just stared at Anti, “There goes my evening.”
Then the cat hissed, Chica whimpered, trying to hide behind Damien
“What are yeh doing here?” Chase said, the fear palpable.
“You shut up,” Anti overannuciated. Then he turned back to glare at Damien, his eye glowing, “You and yer damn boyfriend have gotten on my last nerve.”
The tortoise’s head turned to look at the Mayor and the two animals with him.
At that moment something slammed into the side of the tortoise’s mouth, Chase was shaking, holding his gun. “Hey, An-Anti, p-p-ick on some-thin yer own size!”
J.J pulled out his pocket watch, already messing with the dial on top of it.
“Shove off, shitball,” Anti sneered, “my business is with the stuffed shirt.”
Chase looked at Anti, clearly terrified, and just shot at the tortoise again, the blast slamming into his jaw again. “No.”
The reptile roared, and started to turn, Anti jumped off, “Quit firin’ at my pet.”
“Quit having it eat pets, feed it somethin’ else,” Chase said.
The tortoise began walking away, and Anti looked from it to Chase, and threw up a portal into the Void for it to walk through. He looked angry, “Yer lucky he got hurt, shitstain! I’ll make you bleed fer this.”
Anti followed his tortoise into the void, everyone staying still until it didn’t open back up.
“So, you’ve got a boyfriend, he gave the cat the name?” J.J asked Damien, trying to cut the tense atmosphere.
“Don’t get me started,” Damien smiled nervous. Then he turned to Chase. “Thanks for that, I was sure that it was about to eat us.”
Chase just screamed, “I was sure we were dead.”
Damien just watched him, “Well that makes it even more commendable.”
“Yer too nice, I got lucky,” Chase was holding his chest, clearly trying to calm his racing heart.
“What is your superpower?” Damien asked.
“I can hit anything I aim at,” Chase held up his modified NERF gun. “I forget what Marv and the Doc call it.”
“Immaculate accuracy,” Damien told him. “That’s quite the useful power.”
“Really? Don’t think it’s all that special, can’t really use it in the missions I help out wit’.” Chase rubbed at the back of his neck.
Damien began scratching his cat’s chin, the black cat purring, “You don’t give yourself enough credit, I always thought you being selective of your missions was because you didn’t want to fight. I was wrong, I’m sorry.”
“Nah,” Chase not to show how that hit his ego, “I’m used ta that. I am kinda a coward, I tend ta avoid Anti like the plague.”
“Lies!” J.J repeated, wildly whipping his hand in a wide arc.
“But you still fought him, you didn’t even run, you’re a hero,” Damien reminded.
“You’re too kind,” Chase watched Chica walk over, calming down now that Anti was gone. Chase knelt down, “Hey, girl, we should get yah back ta Silver and UFO, huh?”
“I should be getting back too,” Damien decided.
“Yeah, let’s get yah back home b’fore anything happens to yah,” Chase hooked Chica’s leash back on. “Let’s go.”
“What about the house?” Damien asked.
“We’ll lock up and once yer back home I’ll run the keys back to Abe,” Chase promised.
“Very well,” Damien agreed and put his cat back in its crate. They walked him over to his house. The Mayor thanked them and Chase made sure that they had some kind of guard on the place to make sure Anti didn’t swing back around to attack him. Damien was already pulling out his phone as he was closing the door behind him.
As soon as Damien was gone, J.J cheekily signed, “You have a fan.”
“Stop that,” Chase pushed him back. The two of them heading back to Mark’s to return to Chica. Chase would promptly go to bed, sending a report to Marvin’s about the massive tortoise. His sleep was a little odd but relatively peaceful.
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