#me years ago: i wonder what my max hair length is. let's find out

[blessphemy]

like you know those scenes in the movies where Girl who was pretending to be a Boy takes her hair down and then everyone loses their shit. that's basically me irl and it's funny every time. hair stick falls out when you're in the middle of doing doublejumps at the gym (cuz your hand was borked and you had to use your other hand to put the bun up so the bun wasn't as structurally sound as usual), bun DROP to reveal 4' of braided hair that touches the floor when you're doing front squats and everyone's like where the FUCK were you hiding that shit

[pastelwitchling]

Kyle talks to Michael about Alex.

Kyle had had a strange pain in his chest since he’d accepted the surgeon’s offer, but as he stepped into the Wild Pony and saw Alex at their usual table, looking everywhere at once and tapping his fingers on his beer bottle, clearly uncomfortable with being alone, it was like a window suddenly opened to his heart.

A smile tugged at his lips. Alex saw him and smiled himself, raising a hand in greeting.

As Kyle slid into the booth, he said, “I have a raging headache in four corners of my mind, and only one of them is from my hospital shifts.”

Alex huffed a chuckle. “I get the feeling.”

“Right,” he nodded. “I keep forgetting that you’re in the club, too.”

“The club?”

“The We’re-Pretty-Much-On-Call-All-The-Time-Because-Someone-Always-Needs-Something Club.”

“Ah,” Alex leaned back in his seat, and handed Kyle the second bottle he’d ordered. “That club. It’s not so bad, being useful.”

He raised a brow. “That bad? I thought you liked your new job.”

“‘Liked’ may be a strong a word,” he confessed. “It’s definitely interesting.”

“And your boss?”

He sighed. “I’m still trying to crack him. What about you? Have you heard back from that hospital in California?”

Kyle looked down, and huffed a chuckle. “I think you’re the only one that’s asked me that. Come to think of it, I think you’re the only friend I have that doesn’t just call me for rescue.”

Alex’s smile dimmed. “So you have heard from them.”

He nodded. “And I accepted their offer.”

Alex said nothing, and Kyle looked up, expecting disappointment. But Alex wasn’t looking at him. He was staring off into the crowd of cowboys drinking by the pool table, his lips pursed, his brows furrowed.

“Do you hate me?”

“I’m sad,” he confessed, the corner of his lips tugged up in a soft smile. “I’ll miss you.”

Kyle felt a lump in his throat. For two days, he’d been deliberating his choices, wondering if it was the right thing to do. Everyone here, after all, needed him for one thing or another. He was worried he’d be letting people down. But Alex . . .

“Are you disappointed?”

He shook his head. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” he hesitated, “I’m the resident alien doctor. What’re are they going to do if I’m not here?”

Alex raised a brow like it was obvious. “Manage.”

“Come on, Alex,” his shoulders fell. “You can’t fool me into thinking that you don’t care what happens to Michael.”

“All I’ve ever cared about is Michael,” he said simply, without doubt or pause. “But they’re not alone. I’m here, Liz is here. And you’ve done enough.”

“But you’ve always advocated for – for friendship, and being there for the people you love!”

“And you have been,” Alex chuckled. “And you will be. You’re moving to another state, not another planet. If it gets really bad, and I really can’t think of anything else, I’ve got your number.”

Kyle clenched his jaw. “But –”

“Kyle,” he leaned in, smiling. His eyes were glassy. “Take it from someone who built a career out of the military, and moved on. It’s time to tap out.”

Kyle didn’t know what to say. He didn’t have another argument, not with Alex’s eyes and words so sincere. Alex shrugged. “It’ll just be Roswell’s loss.”

He stared, searching for any sign of mockery or sugarcoating. But this was Alex. He didn’t lie, not for anyone.

He opened his mouth to speak, found the words lodged in his throat, then tried again. He really hadn’t realized how badly he’d needed Alex’s permission.

“Coming from you, Manes,” he confessed, “that means everything.”

 On his way home that night, and after a hug from Alex and a promise that he would come over the next day to help him start packing, Kyle realized there was one more thing he couldn’t leave without doing. One last duty that he owed his best friend.

So instead of going straight home, he turned a road and into the junkyard. Michael Guerin sat in front of the bonfire with a beer in hand, that stupid hat on his head, and raised a disinterested brow at Kyle as he stepped out.

“Well,” he said, “this is a surprise. The good doctor needs something from little old me?”

“Actually,” Kyle said, “yeah, I do.” Michael just stared, and he shrugged. “More of an order, actually.”

Michael started to smirk and leaned forward on his knees. “You’re gonna give me orders.”

“Just one,” Kyle said, hands in his pockets. He supposed he should’ve been more hesitant, more afraid. Michael, after all, was a dangerous loose wire even when he was sober, and he’d been on edge for whatever reason for the past few days.

But then Kyle remembered the dark circles around Alex’s eyes, the slight twitch of his fingers, the way he seemed to be struggling with the weight of Deep Sky and everything that came with it on his shoulders. And Michael. Always Michael.

“I need you to look after Alex.”

Michael’s smirk faltered. “Pardon me?”

“You heard me, Guerin,” he sighed, not in the mood to play back-and-forth. Not anymore. “Look after Alex. He’s not okay.”

That got Michael’s attention, and his eye twitched. “What’s wrong with him?”

Kyle tilted his head. “Oh I don’t know, why don’t you ask him? Or is it only that Alex is allowed to help you, and never the other way around?”

He stood. “Watch it, Valenti.”

“I have been,” he said. “For the past couple of years, I have been careful around you, Guerin, because part of me knew that whatever you broke in Alex, I can just fix. But I’m leaving town, and honestly? I’m scared for him. He’d never ask for help, but there has to be someone who cares enough about him to offer it anyway.”

Michael clenched his jaw and swallowed. “And you think that’s me?”

“I need it to be,” Kyle admitted, “because Alex doesn’t want anyone else.” Michael’s face fell. “He’s never wanted anyone else. So it’s either you, or I find some way to take him with me.”

Michael’s eyes flared, but Kyle held up a hand to silence him. “I’m not, Guerin, but I would. I can’t leave him here alone knowing he’s just going to keep being used.”

“I don’t use Alex,” he growled.

“No?” Kyle scoffed. “Did you know that he left the Air Force just last week?”

Michael looked like he’d been shot.

“With full honors?” he went on. “Did you know that he’s been recruited by the same secret organization that shot Max and drugged Jenna? Or that he’s already been given a mission? Do you have any idea how exhausted he is?”

When Michael didn’t answer, apparently too consumed with taking in all of this information, Kyle shook his head.

“You wouldn’t, would you? Because it’s all about you, all the time.” He shrugged. “Alex doesn’t mind, so why should you?” He shook his head, already starting to walk back to his car. “He deserves better than that.”

Leaving Michael standing in the desert, Kyle got into his car and drove away, finally feeling like he’d wiped the slate clean with his best friend.

*

Michael didn’t know why he was here. He walked the length of Alex’s porch, waiting for Alex, not having a clue as to where he could be. He realized there’d been a lot of that since that year away dismantling Project Shepherd. He had less and less to do with Alex, and it gave him a headache beyond anything else had.

How could he not know where Alex was? How could he not have asked? How did Kyle know?

Because Kyle pays attention to Alex, a voice in his head scorned. You don’t.

Michael clenched his jaw, still a little tipsy from his self-loathing beers, and ran his fists through his curls. Alex’s porch started to upend itself, the hardwood floors battling against the nails keeping them down, and Michael gasped, settling everything back in its place.

Just then, Michael caught a pair of headlights and squinted only for a second before Alex parked and turned off the car.

His heart started to rattle and his breaths came out quicker at the sight of Alex in his flannel and jeans. He missed him. He had no idea how badly he had until he’d come back, until he got to talk to him that first night a few days ago – drunk then, too – but he missed him. He missed him every second he was away, and somehow missed him more when he was here.

Alex had a brow raised, but Michael was studying his face. He saw it clearly now. The dark shadows under his eyes, his hollow cheeks, his hair sticking up in perfect, messy strands like he’d been running his hands through them all day, his stubble. How could he have not noticed?

“Uh oh,” Alex sighed at the look on his face. “Something’s wrong, isn’t it?”

Michael swallowed. Right, he thought. Because Alex only thought he showed up when he needed something.

He pushed past the ever-present lump in his throat and asked, “Why would something be wrong, Private?” He purposely used the nickname. “Can’t I just come say hi?”

Alex glanced down at the word Private, and back up again. He smiled and moved past Michael to open his door. “Not in my experience. Seriously” – he stood by the door, and nudged Michael inside – “what’s wrong?”

Michael didn’t budge, still smirking though it felt hollow. “Why didn’t you tell me about the Air Force?”

Alex looked startled that Michael knew. Did he really just never expect Michael to care about what was going on with him at all?

He shrugged. “It – uh – it was recent. Who told you? Max?”

Michael stared, then started to chuckle incredulously. “Did everyone but me know?”

Alex was not humoring him. “I told Greg and Kyle. They’ve both been spending time with Maria, and she’s been spending time with Max, I figured one of them must’ve mentioned it to her, and she must’ve mentioned it to him – look, would you please just come inside?”

Michael’s laughter faded and he pressed his lips together. He was still smiling, but his eyes burned. Alex seemed to realize he wouldn’t move on his own, and he gently took Michael’s jacket sleeve, tugging him in.

Once they were both in the living room, Alex set to work on a pot of tea. As he handed Michael a mug, Michael saw the light glimmering off a silver ring on his finger. His brows furrowed.

“That’s new.”

“Oh,” Alex glanced at it. “Yeah. So –”

“Wasn’t that the same ring Long had?”

“Yep.”

Alex was clearly avoiding his eyes. Michael was relentless, a burning in his chest forcing the words out.

“He gave it to you?”

“No,” Alex said. “This one’s mine.”

“Is this about that secret organization you joined?” Michael demanded. “Or was that recent, too?”

Alex smiled as he straightened, understanding dawning. “So Kyle told you. No wonder you’re wound so tight.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning it’s one thing when my own brother knows a secret about me before you do,” Alex said, taking a seat at the end of the couch. “But Kyle knowing it first?” He scoffed and shook his head.

Michael leaned forward, glaring. “So I’m jealous,” he spat. “So what? Why does Kyle get to know more about you than I do?”

“He’s my best friend,” Alex said simply. “We just talk about ourselves around each other.”

“But you don’t talk about yourself to me.”

“Not usually,” Alex agreed.

“Why?” he demanded. “I’m more important?”

“Yes,” he said simply, and Michael clenched his jaw.

“That’s really what you think of me?”

“I think the world of you, Michael,” he said, and Michael faltered. “You’re everything to me.” He smiled. “You think I don’t tell you about what I’m doing because I don’t think you care? I don’t tell you because you’re all I care about. I was going to tell you about the Air Force, I swear, just . . . not yet.” He looked down at his hands, his thumb rubbing the backs of his fingers. “Some of this stuff hurts to talk about, and I just don’t . . . I don’t want to think about it yet.”

Michael’s brows furrowed. “You’re . . . sad about leaving the military?”

He scoffed halfheartedly, slumping against the couch. “My whole life was the military. I had a family. Now I . . . don’t. I just need a minute to adapt.”

Michael tried to consider that, to be sympathetic, but he couldn’t be. For one obvious reason.

“But I’m your family.”

Alex huffed a laugh, and sniffled. He nodded. “I know.” He exhaled shakily, glancing at Michael, then stretched his arms high above his head. Michael was so distracted with his shirt riding up and revealing smooth, delicious skin that he didn’t notice Alex was lying down until his head was on his lap.

Michael froze, not knowing what to do.

“Hold still,” Alex murmured, his eyes already closed. “I haven’t slept in days and I’m exhausted.”

Slowly, Michael set a hand down on Alex’s waist, the other in his hair. His own heart hammered when Alex’s body melted under his touch and he seemed, for the first time since he’d seen him back, relaxed.

He leaned back on the couch, unable and unwilling to look away from Alex. “Then sleep, Private,” he whispered. “I’ll keep you safe.”

[miraculouswolf99]

I Put A Spell On You (Song Fic)

My first miraculous salt fic. Doubles as a song fic and a Halloween fic. Features the best song from the best Halloween movie of all time. Hocus Pocus.

*****

Adrien was happy. No one else in class knew why he had been smiling all day. Chloe was probably the only one in the room that knew why he was so happy today. But she was not going to tell anyone and ruin his day when Liar Rossi would would just use it to make up some more lies and ruin his happiness.

Things had not gotten better since the lying Italian had joined the class. Even though now that Marinette had transferred to Mendeleiev’s class, things had not gotten better. If anything, things had gotten worse since now Lila thought that she could not freely lie and manipulate almost non-stop with no one there to attempt to expose her.

The class was now half and half with who believed the liar and who doesn’t. The ones that don’t believe her being Adrien, Chloe, Nathaniel, Kim, and Juleka. Sabrina was decided to be a neutral part and not take a side. She listened to Lila’s tales, but normally stayed by Chloe’s side. Alya, Nino, Alix, Max, Ivan, Mylene, and Rose were all firmly on Lila’s side and nothing could ever change their minds.

Adrien had finally been starting to stand his ground against the liar since he had seen her chase Marinette away. He was reaching his wits end with her constantly hanging on his arm and never letting go when he asks or even demands her to. Adrien had managed to convince Bustier that he was too bust with his schedule to tutor Lila and that he would be better off sitting in the back with Nathaniel since it was more quiet than being next to Lila “never shuts up” Rossi.

“What are you so happy about today, Sunshine,” Nathaniel asked his friend.

“I have some friends coming today,” Adrien answered. “They were visiting their grandparents in the United States and decided to stop in France on their way back to their home in Greece. Their names are Lyon and Vallia Garden.”

“You know Greeks, cool,” Nathaniel said. “When did you meet them? Obviously it wasn’t a time close to now since you have not left the country and no Greeks have showed up here either, to my knowledge.”

“I met them about a year before my mom disappeared,” Adrien says. “Their family owns and operates an incredible animal and nature sanctuary that almost takes up the entire island they live on. They host a lot of charities there. Concerts, celebrity birthdays, auctions, art shows, even cooking contests. I was there with my parents for a charity fashion show.”

“Do you speak Greek or did they speak French,” Nathaniel was curious since he did know that Adrien already also spoke Mandarin and English.

“They speak French,” Adrien says. “They were the only ones there that were my age, so I was glad to have someone to talk to. We’ve kept in contact ever since.”

“Sounds great,” Nathaniel smiled at his friend. “Do they know about... everything going on?”

“Dear god, no,” Adrien stated. “Lyon is fiercely protective of his friends. He is a master archer and when he caught poachers trying to break into the sanctuary, he actually shot them all before calling the police.”

“I am not sure whether to be terrified of him when they come or in awe of him,” Nathaniel admitted.

“Nothing wrong with both, as Vallia would probably say,” Adrien chuckled. “I do admit that they can be pretty scary. Especially since when they help out at their family sanctuary, Lyon seems to have a way with their wolves and Vallia seems to be a lion whisperer.”

“I am both terrified and looking forward to meeting them,” Nathaniel nervously laughed. “I just hope Marc doesn’t faint when he learns this stuff about them. I love him, but we all know he is naturally timid.”

“I know,” Adrien chuckled. “Remember when he first met Kagami?”

“I will never let him live that down,” Nathaniel smirked, loving it when he is able to tease his boyfriend.

Before the two could continue their conversation, there was sudden yelling from outside the classroom and coming from the courtyard. It sounded like four people arguing, two of them not sounding like they were French.

“What is that,” Nathaniel wondered as they stood up.

“I’m a little worried to find out,” Adrien stated.

The two had stayed behind to chat after the bell rang and everyone else left for the day. They immediately left the classroom and looked over the railing and into the courtyard. They were soon joined by Marinette, Marc, Kagami, Aurore, and Mireille from Mendeleiev’s class, who had also heard the yelling.

“What’s going on,” Marinette immediately asked.

They all look over the rail. They see two people arguing quite loudly with Alya and Lila. They certainly were both unique-looking teens.

The first was a girl that was quite beautiful and had a grace and elegance to her style. She had long blond hair braided with roses and butterflies and had pink streaks. Her eyes were a stunning silver that you could see, if you were close enough, had specks of blue in them. Her style was a red, pink, and purple dawn colored dress with gold flats. On her wrists were diamond rose cuff bracelets, a butterfly on the one on her right wrist. 

The boy next to her gave off a very icy exterior that also screamed honor and loyalty that only a knight would have. A tall boy with hair that was actually black with streaks of white and blue in it, coming to the length of Adrien's. His eyes were the opposite of the girl's, blue with silver specks. His outfit of choice was a sky blue t-shirt under a white jean vest, matching the blue pants with white boots. On his hands were white fingerless gloves. Around his neck was a sword and shield pendant as well as a white cloak only going down to his knees. 

“Lyon, Vallia,” Adrien gasped.

“Those are your two friends from Greece, Adrien,” Kagami asked, Adrien having told her during their last fencing practice.

“Yeah,” Adrien said. “Their plane must have landed earlier than expected and they decided to come here.”

“Why are they arguing with Alya and Lila,” Mireille wondered.

“If it has something to do with that liar, it’s probably her fault,” Marc, of all people, stated.

It was a pretty open secret in the school that literally everyone but most of Bustier’s class, plus Bustier herself and Damocles, were all aware that Lila was nothing but a manipulative liar. In fact, most of them were shocked that the class, teacher, and principal believed her outlandish lies in the first place.

“Maybe Lila tried to cozy up to them and they caught her in a lie,” Marinette guessed.

“Lyon and Vallia do come from a rich family,” Adrien said. “Not only is their family known for their sanctuary, but they also have the largest jewel collection in the world. Like the medallions on their foreheads.”

They all looked and saw that the two did indeed have crystal medallions on their foreheads. Vallia’s was a rose quartz butterfly and Lyon’s was a sapphire wolf.

“What is up with that book that Lyon has,” Kagami noticed.

They all looked and saw that Lyon was holding a pretty large book that looked very old. It was bound with brown leather that had Frankenstein-like stitches all over it along with old silver metal on the cover as well. It also had a very large buckle.

“They did say they wanted to show me something,” Adrien said. “They went to the US to celebrate Halloween with their grandparents so maybe they got some type of prop and wanted to show it to me.”

They all quickly started to get into the courtyard and make their way over to the four. In a city plagued by a terrorist that uses negative emotions, arguments usually lead to someone getting akumatized.

“My brother does not worship the devil,” Vallia shouted at Alya and Lila.

“That book is a Book of Shadows,” Lila pointed at the book in Lyon’s hands. “It’s a tool of witchcraft, which is all about worshiping the devil. I should know. My great uncle is a world renown priest back in Italy.” 

“Not all witchcraft is devil worship, you pathetic liar,” Lyon sneered. “And there is no world famous priest in Italy since the last well-known one was arrested five years ago for killing people using fake exorsisms.”

(Reference to an episode of Criminal Minds.)

“Lila is not a liar,” Alya yelled. “You are, you devil witches.”

“This isn’t even a real spellbook,” Vallia screamed at them. “It’s a movie prop out grandparents won in an auction. They knew we loved Halloween, so they got us a prop from out favorite Halloween movie.”

“See, that proves you worship the devil,” Lila accused. “Halloween is a devil cult holiday, my great uncle proved that years ago but America rejected his facts and still celebrates it.”

“It is not,” Lyon yelled. “You are the worst liar I have ever come across. You should be ashamed to insult an entire holiday just because you don’t like it. Pathetic, just like all you other mythology copying Italians.”

(Reference to the Roman and Greek rivalry from Percy Jackson.)

“How dare you,” Lila screamed.

“Lyon, Vallia,” Adrien called. “Calm down.”

But it was too late. A black and purple butterfly already came flying down. It went inside of the book Lyon was holding. The butterfly outline appeared over his eyes.

“Your favorite holiday and your culture insulted all at once,” Hawkmoth says to him. “Hocus Pocus, I am giving you the power to right this wrong. All I ask is for the miraculous of the ladybug and black cat in return.” 

“I will show this liar some real magic,” Lyon said, transforming.

“What the hell,” Vallia gasped, backing away.

Lyon had changed into an almost male version of Winifred Sanderson. He was in a mostly green outfit with a green leather vest and pants with black leather boots that matched the black silk shirt under the vest. He also wore a long and shiny green cloak with a hood. He was still holding the book.

“Is it wrong that he actually looks hot in that outfit,” Adrien let slip, then instantly covered his mouth.

“Okay, we will come back to Adrien’s crush later,” Marinette stated. “For now, let’s run.”

Adrien immediately rushed forward and grabbed Vallia.

“Adrien,” Vallia was confused and worried. “What’s going on? What happened to Lyon?”

“Hawmoth is a terrorist here in Paris,” Adrien gave a quick explaination. “He takes advantage of negative emotions to turn normal people into his mind controlled villains.”

“Someone is mind controlling my brother,” Vallia was pissed. “When I get my hands on him, Hades will look like a puppy in comparison.”

“Maybe later, but we all need to hide so that Ladybug and Cat Noir can save your brother,” Adrien said.

Hocus Pocus then opened his book. He smirked as it glowed.

“Wicked ways beneath the skin, let all who taste it now join in,” he cast.

(Reference to Descendants 2.)

Out of the book came magical glowing chocolates. They all shot around the school and into the mouths of multiple people. It forced them to eat the magical treats, including Vallia, Nathaniel, Marc, and Kagami. Music then started playing out of nowhere as Hocus Pocus smirked again.

“Oh crud,” Adrien swore, running away along with the few students and staff that managed to avoid the chocolates. 

He transformed and was soon on the roof of the school. Ladybug soon joined him. But they were shocked that the school was now in a full-blown musical moment. Hocus Pocus took “center stage” with Vallia and Kagami as his main back-up singers.

“I put a spell on you And now you're mine You can't stop the things I do I ain't lyin'.”

“It's been three hundred years Right down to the day Now the witch is back And there's hell to pay.”

“I put a spell on you And now you're mine!”

Hocus Pocus seemed to have used the chocolates like mind control treats. Everyone that eaten one had was now dancing around the courtyard in very Halloween-like manors. Some even seemed to be doing Micheal Jackson’s Thriller moves.

Alya and Lila, who had not gotten chocolates, were not allowed to leave as the dancers forced them to stay in the courtyard.

“What the heck in going on,” Ladybug was so confused.

“I guess whatever movie his akuma form is based off of had a musical number in it,” Cat Noir guessed.

“I put a spell on you And now you're gone (Gone, gone, gone, so long!) My whammy fell on you And it was strong (So strong, so strong, so strong!)”

“Your wretched little lives Have all been cursed 'Cause of all the witches working I'm the worst.”

“I put a spell on you And now you're mine.”

Hocus Pocus walked around the courtyard as he sung, Vallia and Kagami making amazing back-up singers. Alya and Lila still looked terrified even with the catchy song playing around them.

“Even as a back-up singer, who would have thought that Kagami could sing,” Ladybug said.

“Yeah, no kidding,” Cat Noir agreed.

“(Watch out! Watch out! Watch out! Watch out! She ain’t lyin’)”

“If you don't believe, You better get superstitious.”

“I put a spell on you... I put a spell on you...”

“Ah say into pi, alpha maybe upendi!”

“Ah say into pi, alpha maybe upendi!”

“In comma-coriyama"

“In comma-coriyama”

"Hey hi, say bye-bye-i-i-i-i-i-i-i"

"Bye, bye"

The song ended with a pose from Hocus Pocus and his two back-up singers. He still had his menacing smirk on his face.

“I think it’s time our little liar had her own spell placed ob her,” Hocus Pocus stated. “Like... a truth spell, perhaps.”

Let’s just say that the heroes were petty and decided to let the liar’s kingdom fall before defeating the akuma. And Adrien was certainly glad to have his friend back and a really cool book from their favorite Halloween movie. He just wished that the name of the movie would stop slipping his mind. Oh well, gives him an excuse to talk with Lyon more.

[flufflepuffle296]

Heathers au: Beautiful Songfic

This is more centred around Veronica/Marinette so not really any mentions of Heather/Heather/Heather. Sorry if someone’s done this before I apologise I just got into Heathers like two days ago. Also I changed some lyrics and took others out to make it more “realistic”. Sorry I suck at endings, it’s 5:30am rn and this is my first fic so be nice please! (I’m on mobile so I can’t add the keep reading tag so sorry if you don’t like this) xxx

I brushed down my dress: I couldn’t give them anything to criticise me over. Everything had to be perfect. I had to be perfect. Chloé sat next to me, my beautiful fiancée, slipping on her kitten heels. She may be 3 months pregnant but no Bourgeois woman would be seen wearing flats. I was in a red floor length a line dress — I grew out of my childish pink years ago, before it even went out of fashion! My hair was twisted into two plaits that were knotted together into a stylish bun at the back. Chloé meanwhile had stuck to her white and gold aesthetic, currently in a slim fitting white dress, showing off her small baby bump, decorated with gold jewellery. I rummaged through my drawers, trying to find a lipstick, when a thin book toppled out. I picked it up, and laughed fondly when I saw what it was.

My old Collège and Lycée diary.

I flipped through it, landing on the page that stuck most clearly in my mind. It was the day my class reminded me of my current reality at that time, shocking me out of a bubble that had surrounded me during the summer holidays that year.

September 1st, 1989.

Dear Diary: I believe I'm a good person. You know, I think that there's good in everyone, but—here we are! First day of senior year!

And uh... I look around at these kids that I've known all my life and I ask myself—what happened?

I bit my lip. What happened? I knew darn well what happened. Lila Rossi. She came in, flaunting her friendships and connections, a new disability every other week to cry about, another rumour about me coming out every 3 days.

Alya ended our friendship, Adrien continued to cry about Lila’s feelings. Lila just kept doing what she did best. The class gave up on changing my mind and instead decided that calling me names would be better. Because logic?!

“Freak!” “Slut!” “Burnout!” “Bug-eyes!” “Poser!” “Lard-ass!” Were the insults they liked to yell daily. Yeah, they weren’t the most creative...

We were so tiny, happy and shiny. Playing tag and getting chased. Singing and clapping, laughing and napping. Baking cookies, eating paste.

Nino and Kim used to come over to the bakery when we were kids, where we’d gorge ourselves on sweets, before celebrating our sugar rushes by chasing each other in the park and then crashing on my sofa, cuddled in blankets and laying on top of each other.

Then we got bigger, that was the trigger. Like the Huns invading Rome. Welcome to my school, this ain't no high school: This is the Thunderdome. Hold your breath and count the days, we're graduating soon. College will be paradise, if I'm not dead by June!

But I know, I know, life can be beautiful. I pray, I pray for a better way. If we changed back then, we could change again. We can be beautiful...Just not today.

I scoffed at my optimism back then. Them changing? They never did, I don’t know why I bothered trying at that point. I should’ve moved on but hey! We all make mistakes. It’s just that sometimes you make 11 friendships worth of mistakes.

“Freak!” “Slut!” “Cripple!” “Homo!” “Homo!” “Homo!”

I cringed as I read their old “insults”. They would write homophobic messages across my locker, getting Alix to spray paint a few slurs across my work after I came out as bisexual.

Things will get better soon as my letter comes from Harvard, Duke, or Brown. Wake from this coma, take my diploma. Then I can blow this town. Dream of ivy-covered walls, no smoky French cafés. Fight the urge to strike a match and set this dump ablaze!

I had purposefully sent out applications to universities far away from these people, from Paris. All three schools accepted me, something I can’t say about my classmates, most of whom were rejected for essays on false information (sourced by Lila) and a quick scan over the Ladyblog meant not a single newspaper would even consider my ex-best friend. Gabriel Agreste, as I later found out through my internship in America, had to bribe several schools with double tuition to get even one to accept Adrien, after he got exposed as sexual harasser and disgraced hero “Chat Noir”. I turned back to my diary, having to peel off rock hard gum from the page that someone had smeared in “revenge”.

Le Chiên Kim. Third year as linebacker and eighth year of smacking lunch trays and being a huge dick.

“What did you say to me, skank?” He would yell, his fist raised in the hallway.

“Aah, nothing!” I then cowered. I may be Ladybug, but he was 150lbs of pure rage. No one can compete with that!

But I know, I know... Life can be beautiful. I pray, I pray, For a better way. We can be beautiful...

“Marinette! Wide load! Honnnnnk!”

He was the smartest guy on the football team. Which is kind of like being the tallest dwarf.

“Hey! Pick that up! Right now!”

“I’m sorry, are you actually talking to me?” He used to snarl, his hands covered in sauce from knocking my tray.

I stood my ground, I had been practising for this moment. “Yes, I am. I wanna know what gives you the right to pick on me. You're a high school has-been waiting to happen. A future gas station attendant.”

Kim then smirked, crouching down to eye level and pressing a finger to my forehead. “You have a zit right there...” he pointed out, causing the cafeteria to laugh at my expense.

I used to ask myself “Why... Why do they hate me?”

And hear Adrien whisper “Why don't I fight back?”

Watch as Max Googled “Why do I act like such a creep?”

Listen in on Lila stamping her feet in the bathroom asking “Why won't he date me?” Clearly frustrated.

Kim panicking as he wondered “Why did I hit him?”

And Chloé sob down the phone “Why do I cry myself to sleep?”

I would stay up late, screaming, begging. At my lowest points I would cry out “Somebody hug me! Somebody fix me! Somebody save me! Send me a sign, God! Give me some hope, here! Something to live for!”

I remember when I first met my real friends. The famed trio had gone into the bathroom and I followed after them, clearly my throat.

“Who are you?”

“Uh... Marinette Dupain Cheng. I crave a boon”

“What boon?” Chloé asked, filing her nails.

“Um. Let me sit at your table, at lunch. If our class think that you guys tolerate me, then they'll leave me alone...”

Chloé threw her nail file out and began circling around me, running her hands through my hair, commenting that “For a greasy little nobody, you do have good bone structure!” Before coming to a conclusion.

“And ya know, ya know, ya know? This could be beautiful. Mascara, maybe some lip gloss, and we're on our way. Get this girl some blush; and Kagami, I need your brush. Let's make her beautiful.” Sabrina and Kagami, chimed in, echoing her words.

“Let's make her beautiful...”

“Let’s make her beautiful...”

“Make her beautiful...Okay?” Chloé ordered, dragging me out with Kagami and Sabrina, driving me to her hotel. They sat me down, taking my hair out of its bunches and brushing it out. Kagami painted my nails a deep navy with surprising precision, manning my cuticles. Sabrina twirled my hair into a high bun, leaving a few pieces at the front to frame my face. Chloé came back from her wardrobe, throwing a blue blazer and grey skirt at me. I changed into my outfit for them, to which they clapped their hands in glee. They dragged me back to school, taking in everyone’s reactions to the new and improved me. This became my new daily outfit for the rest of the year — the class couldn’t find anything bad about it, and even if they did Chloé would threaten them with her father’s power.

I was happy with my squad. Kagami taught us Japanese and Chloé taught us American English that she’d picked up from her mother. I taught them self defence, under the guise of learning it from my mum, unknowingly training them for the day I would rip Chat Noir’s miraculous from him, before slamming it into Kagami’s palm. I needed help that day, so thrust them bee and the fox miraculous at Chloé and Sabrina respectively. They became permanent heroes, Kagami under the name “Noirette”, Chloé under the new guise of “Buttercup” and Sabrina “Renard Rouge”. Akuma attacks have never lasted more than 15 minutes since we got rid of that alley cat, and we’ve been closing in on Hawkmoth recently.

I shook my head, snapping the crude book shut, throwing the diary in the bin. Today was going to be the day I made peace with all that happened, our 10 year school reunion. Doesn’t mean I’m gonna make up with anyone, just that I will finally leave everything behind. I found my lipstick and smeared on the crimson lip, smacking my lips together. I grabbed my clutch and helped Chloé stand up, though she wobbled a little in her heels. I slid her miraculous into her updo, blowing a kiss at her as to not ruin her makeup.

We met up with Kagami and Sabrina in the hallway, Kagami in a wine red suit with gold jewellery, and Sabrina was in emerald green to compliment her red hair. We stepped into the limo awaiting us outside and set off, arriving at the school 10 minutes later. We walked up the steps, hitching up our dresses and arrived in the courtyard. It had been lit up with fairy lights, with stands of food and drinks scattered around the court. Our old classmates were huddled in small groups, whilst Mlle. Mendeleiev’s was in a large group, enjoying each other’s company after 10 years apart.

No one noticed us, until Rose pointed at me and whispered “Who’s that with Chloé?” The group turned to stare at us, trying to place my face. Adrien looked up from talking to Lila, who seemed to be flaunting a rather tacky Gabriel engagement ring, and whispered,

“Marinette?!”

The class began gossiping amongst themselves, “Marinette? Marinette? Marinette?!”

I ignored them, their childish ways were behind me, and walked up to Aurore and Mireille, fawning over their relationship. They turned Kagami, asking her about her life and squealing over her Olympic medal for fencing. I grinned as I watched my old class, happy that they had moved on from each other — well apart from Alya and Adrien, who were still hooked on Lila. I was finally, content! I thought back on my diary, one particular paragraph standing out to me at this time.

And you know, you know, you know, life can be beautiful. You hope, you dream, you pray, and you get your way! Ask me how it feels, lookin' like hell on wheels...My God, it's beautiful! I feel so beautiful... And when you're beautiful...It's a beautiful frickin' day!

Chloé boasted my achievements, my business, my awards, and the entire of Mendeleiev’s class started chanting “Marinette! Marinette! Marinette!”, much to my embarrassment. I boasted her’s in return, Sabrina revealed how far she’d come as a lawyer, Kagami swung her prized sword from side to side as she listened to us all catching up, laughing at the memories.

It really was a beautiful day.

[percywinchester27]

A lot like ‘Us’ (Part-22)

Word count: 5.2K

Pairing: Sam X Reader AU

Warnings: Anxiety, feels, light flirting?

Series Summary: Y/N Y/L/N is eager and honestly, still in awe that she managed to get herself an acceptance from Stanford Law School. On the face of it, her life seems as put together, mysterious and independent as one might hope for. On the insides, she carries the burden of past that haunts her till date. Seemingly, she’d left it all behind; that is until she sets foot in the class of the Law School’s youngest, most promising professor.

A/N: Hey peeps, just wanted to thank you guys for all the love. Y’all are awesome! <3

The story employs two different timelines. The present timeline for the story takes place in 2014. Please let me know what you guys think :)

Beta: @deanssweetheart23​. Thank you, babe <3

A lot like ‘Us’ masterlist

“Jesus, kid! Don’t you ever pull that one on me again, okay?”

Max was trying to escape his embrace, but Sam didn’t budge. His heart was still beating out a disjointed rhythm.  

“I didn’t do anything!” Max protested.

Alex was quick to interject. “You ran out on me.”        

Max turned in the circle of his arms glaring at Alex. “Only because you fell asleep.”

Alex’s face got all red and she sneaked a nervous glance at Sam.

“She’s got school in the morning,” Sam told Max. “She was tired. That doesn’t mean you can run out on her.”

“This isn’t the first time either,” Alex put in, emboldened by Sam’s support. “He ran to her on Sunday as well.”

“What’s this, Max?” Sam didn’t want to make his voice stern, but the fear wasn’t helping. Alex had called him towards the end of his meeting to tell him she couldn’t find Max. Sam’s heart had dropped through the ground at the mere thought. By the time he could ask Chase to pull out his car- Sam’s was still parked in the campus- a second call from Alex had already informed him that Max was back and okay. But Sam couldn’t stay put. He’d made Chase drive him back anyway.

“She’s my friend.” Max muttered.

“You’ve only met her twice!” Alex accused.

Max threw Alex a betrayed look, mumbling to himself.

Sam rubbed his face with his hand. “What’s happening?”

Alex started to say something, but Max interjected. “I want to tell him!”

“Alright, go on.”

Max told him about a new friend he’d made in one of the buildings along the playground, and that he was going to see her on Monday again.

Sam shot a look at Alex to confirm and she nodded encouragingly. Falling asleep on the watch might have been a one time thing, otherwise Alex was both smart and thorough. She wouldn’t have agreed to anything that wasn’t safe for Max.

“I can go, right?”

“Only if you promise to never go out by yourself.”

Max made an excited sound. “Yes!”

“Okay, enough of this moping,” Chase announced. He had been standing uncharacteristically quiet, watching the drama unfold. “Alex gets to sleep, Max gets his date and Sam gets to chill. What does Chase get?”

Sam turned to him. “What do you want?”

“Food. I want food.”

Alex waved to Max, who didn’t acknowledge it. He was still mad about ratting him out. “Bye, Sam. Bye, Mr. Lincoln.”

Sam nodded, and Chase waved at her cheerfully.

Sam let go of Max, not really looking him in the eyes, lest he should sense just how freaked out Sam was. That’s not what kids should see in their parents- the fear of being incompetant. Sam had learned as much from Dean. His older brother had been absolutely confident in every decision he’d made for Sam. It was only in the later years that Sam realised how freaked out Dean must have been attempting to raise Sam, even with Bobby and Karen’s help. They were all always second guessing themselves. 

The next hour was spent on a call with Stacey. She debriefed Sam about the end of the meeting, promising to forward the transcripts after she was done with editing them. He was lucky to have found someone as efficient as her. She was a blessing. Sam appreciated that her first words were of concern for Max. Stacey had designed Sam’s schedule in such a foolproof manner that Max was never neglected. He couldn’t have been more grateful. To think that they had started their work relationship disliking each other.

Sam took his time in the shower, letting the hot water wash away some of his anxiety. Just the very thought of losing Max was enough to decapitate him. Later, as he diced the bell-peppers, his eyes kept going to the sofa where Max was playing connect four with Chase, who was sucking bigtime. It was something they did at least once a week. Right now, Chase was going on at length about how awesome the cookies were, that he was stealing from a jar. Sam didn’t remember buying any cookies at all.

A sting in his finger made him hiss. Looking down, he saw blood spreading into the bell-pepper pieces and the surface of the chopping board.

The next minute small hands were taking his finger, blowing on the cut and guiding him towards the sink.

“You never pay attention!” Max admonished.

“What do you care?” Sam muttered, washing his finger under the steady stream. The cut wasn’t too deep. “It’s not like you don’t love worrying me.”

Max huffed. “You’re being melodramatic.”

“No, I’m not. Seriously, Max, do you want me to stop going to work? How am I supposed to concentrate on anything if you’re going to be a flight risk?”

“I wasn't running away from home, okay? I just went to see my friend.”

Sam knew he was overreacting but what else was there to do? Alex had sounded so frantic on the phone.

“Who’s this girl anyway?” Sam eyed his son, turning off the tap. “Is it Lucy from school?”

“Ewww nooooo!” Max cringed, making a face. “I don’t like Lucy!”

“Of course you don’t,” Sam grinned. He added more seriously, “Don’t push Alex, okay? She might decide to not babysit you anymore.”

“It’s your fault really,” Max shrugged. Chase who had gone to retrieve the first aid box- it was ridiculous he even knew where that was in the house- handed Sam a bandaid. 

Sam gave Max an incredulous look. “How is any of this my fault?”

“If you got me a mom, we wouldn’t need a babysitter!”

Sam barely even had the time to pick his jaw up when Chase started howling with laughter. He raised his hand and Max high-fived him.

“Wha- what?” He spluttered. “Where’s this coming from?”

“I told you, you had this coming, Samuel,” Chase chuckled, superior. “Even your boy seems to be scoring more dates here. And look at the little daredevil sneaking out to get em. What’re you waiting for? Divine intervention?” He lowered his voice just for Sam’s ears. “Even Steve from HR gets laid more than you. And he smells like Kleenex!”

Sam glared at his friend. “That’s it. Get out of my house! I’m not responsible for feeding you.”

“Now, now,” Chase placated, putting his hands on either side of Sam’s shoulders from behind and giving them a squeeze. “Look at these muscles. Such a waste to not have beautiful arms draped around them.”

“Well, there’s always you!”

Chase huffed, drawing back. “You don’t pay me any attention.”

Max giggled.

Sam turned to his son. “Max, having a mom doesn’t mean you won’t have a babysitter. Working mothers are a thing!”

“He’ll, at least, have quality food,” Chase put in. “All you feed him is vegetables.”

“You know what? I’m done with the both of you. Go back to that game you were playing.”

“No,” Chase shook his head. “This is more fun. Why aren’t you asking Jess out?”

“You know why.” Sam wasn’t as patient this time as he had been the last ten times, since Chase had been badgering him every damn minute. “Go wash your hands, Max. And help Uncle Chase set up the table.”

Max knew he was being dismissed, so he made a whole show of slowly dragging himself from the kitchen counter and heading upstairs at the speed of a snail. Once he was surely out of earshot, Sam hissed at his friend. “Drop it, Chase! You know it’s not going to happen. Besides, the last time was embarrassing enough. I don’t know how to face her.”

Chase rolled his eyes. “She’s a grown ass woman and super hot. You’re lucky she’s into you,” He paused, the sly grin dancing in his eyes. “That was like three or four years ago. She must be long past it.”

“I sure hope so.”

“I don’t know how else to convince you,” Chase sighed, dropping all the teasing at once. “Jess is successful, beautiful and so damn smart. If a girl like that can’t move you, I don’t know what else to do for you.”

“You can always give up.”

“No chance.” Chase ran his fingers through his hair. “I just keep trying to understand what’s holding you back.”

It was Sam’s turn to sigh. “I’m married.”

“No, you’re not!” Chase argued, with more emotion than Sam had expected, enough to make him face his friend. “This isn’t marriage, Sam. This is you holding on to something dead with both your hands. Let go before your hands start decaying.”

“Don’t say that.” The pain in his own voice depressed Sam. 

Chase grimaced. “What would I not give to see this girl! Who is she? Some supermodel? Is she gilded out of diamonds or something?”

It was no point going in circles with Chase over this. Sam knew from years of experience that he wouldn’t give up. 

“What was her name again?”

“It’s-” Sam’s gaze shifted to the base of the staircase and found Max standing there, face blank. “We’ll talk later,” Sam whispered, wondering how much Max had heard.

The dinner was a quiet affair. Sam knew it wasn’t so because Chase and Max were appreciating the sensory overload of how amazing his stir fry was. Chase was sulking and Max was lost in thought. After Chase had left for the night, Sam set to cleaning the kitchen. Max came to sit by him on the island counter, picking out a cookie from the jar Chase had abandoned. 

“How was your day?” Max asked and despite himself Sam chuckled. There was something so odd about the question coming out of a six and a half year old.

“T’was alright,” Sam told him. Most of it had been very boring, except for the evening scare and the morning lecture in which he was mere feet away from Y/N, every cell in his body hyper aware of the fact that she was there. It was pathetic and Sam knew it. “I do have a hearing tomorrow. I think we’ll win this one.”

“What’s it about?”

“Property fraud. Very interesting.”

Wiping the kitchen top, and hanging the rag on the hook over the sink, Sam came to sit by his son. “How was your day?”

“Very interesting.” Max smiled, but didn’t elaborate. Not wanting to flare up his earlier irritation, Sam didn’t ask him for the details either. Instead, he dipped his hand in the jar and drew out a Choco chip cookie.

“Is it because of me that you don’t go out on dates?”

Max’s voice was small, diminished even and it made Sam draw in a quick breath.

“Max!” He exhaled. “Why would you say that?”

His boy wriggled his fingers. “I don’t know. Uncle Chase is right. You don’t have any fun. I know it’s because you have to spend all your free time with me.”

“You don’t mean that,” Sam stated outright, shaking his head. “I know you don’t because not one second of the time spent with you has been a sacrifice. You’re my son. You’ve got to know that I would do anything for you.”

“Except get me a mom.”

“Mom’s don’t grow on trees or fall out skies, Max.” Sam reasoned trying to keep the exasperation out of his voice. “And don’t you ever say that I don’t have fun in life. We have fun, don’t we? I love that and wouldn’t change it for any girl in the world.”

“Not even for Y/N?”

Sam faltered, aghast. Maybe it was because he was thinking about Y/N so much already, or because Max didn’t usually bring her up, but somewhere inside him there was a nagging feeling that he was missing something here. Max’s question was natural in the context of the conversation… but the very conversation felt out of context. Max knew very well what he meant to Sam, and even if a part of him thought that Sam was sacrificing for his sake- Sam fervently wished that wasn’t the case- the Max he knew would never bring it up this conversationally. 

So he answered with complete conviction. “No. Not even for Y/N.”

“And you get this through your head, Max,” he continued, voice pained despite his efforts. “You and I are already a complete family. I love you with everything that I have. So long as we are together, you’ll make do with just me, won’t you?”

“Mhmm.”

Sam ruffled Max’s hair, and kissed his brow, rankled by his words. Regardless of what Sam had just said, wouldn’t it be nice for Max to have a mom? Even in his imagination the face was perfectly clear, the vision already there. He’d be lying to himself if he said that over the years he hadn’t thought about her holding Max, laughing with him. There was only ever one face that completed Sam’s daydream- Y/N’s. But Sam also knew just how impossible it was. Y/N wouldn’t even think of the aftermath of an accident, imagining her as a motherly figure was simply cruel. So much that the whiplash of it hit Sam’s conscience. It was why he hadn’t mentioned Max to her.

Trying to reign in his thoughts he absentmindedly took a bite of the cookie in his hand, chewing as he tried to dislodge the idea of Max and Y/N. Impossible… too painful, his mind screamed.

Abruptly, he stopped.

“Hey, Max? Sam asked slowly, “Where did you get these cookies?” 

“Umm, those girl scouts came over this afternoon,” he said, not meeting Sam’s gaze. “I asked Alex to buy. Is that okay?”

“You sure these are girl scout cookies?”

“Yep.”

Eating the rest of the cookie in one bite, Sam jumped down from the counter and turned to his boy. “Promise me. Promise me you won’t think like that again,” Sam pleaded. “That you’re keeping me from anything. You saved me, kiddo. I would have been barely worth anything without you.”

“Same,” Max quipped. And despite the absolute horror of the situation, and how true both of their words were, Sam found himself snorting. 

“Enough with the black comedy,” he ordered, “Lets go brush your teeth.”

“Yessum.”

Max leapt into Sam’s arms, and he carried his boy out of the kitchen. Sam eyed the jar of cookies one last time before switching off the lights. 

Friday, first day of Induction fair. It was going to be one long day tomorrow.

*******************

“Alright, everybody clear on what they’re supposed to be doing tomorrow?” 

“It’s 11:30 in the night, Y/N,” Seth complained, “We aren’t going to be any more ready.”

“I’m sorry,” you waved apologetically. “You guys should go home, I’ll wrap up the rest. I’m just nervous.”

“It’ll be okay,” Madison came to your side, putting her arm around your shoulders. “Seth’s just kidding. Aren’t you?” She turned on the poor guy who shook his head and you snickered.

“Okay, pack up y’all!” You called out to the people in the background busy with the last checks on the sound system. “We’re going to have a blast tomorrow.”

Cheers went up around you. One by one everyone clapped you on your back, offered smiles and went their way; only Madison, Brad and Rebecca remained. 

“Who are you taking with you to the Saturday night dance?” Brad asked.

Well crap! “A friend of mine,” you answered. You’d have to ask one of the guys if they were free Saturday evening.

“Hmm… Does this friend happen to go to Law school?”

“Nope!”

“We’ll at least have time for one dance,” Brad insisted, leaning next to you as you packed your bag. “Your friend won’t mind, will he?”

“Brad,” you sighed. “I’m clearly not your type.”

He put his hands up. “Hey, I’m not implying anything here, but if that’s what you got out of it…”

You ignored him, walking back towards Maddie. He kept up with you easily. “What about the dance? One dance is well deserved.”

“Okay, fine!” Better to just agree and get it done with. Brad left with a superior smirk and you wondered what was the deal with him.

“Brad’s a great guy,” Rebecca said. “I don’t know what kind of Prince Charming you’re waiting for that you keep turning him down at every opportunity.”

“I’m not waiting for anyone.” It was true. You had found someone who could put Prince Charming to shame and then you had lost him. Now, the most you could hope for was his friendship. The thinly veiled bitterness and longing in Rebecca’s voice when she spoke of Brad led you to believe that her dislike for you wasn’t reasonless after all.

At the quad, you stopped, letting the girls know that you’d be heading towards the library, to relieve Molly from her shift early. It was supposed to be your shift anyway, Molly was doing you a favor by subbing. 

“I’ll come with you,” Madison quipped. She waved a goodbye to Rebecca and the two of you set towards the library, your footsteps echoing in the night. 

Once Molly had left, Madison logged into one of the records PC’s and started working on the case studies for professor Whitman. Meanwhile, you logged into your mail to print out the schedules and itineraries for the speakers tomorrow.

Just as you were printing out the last set, your email pinged, alerting you to an email from Sam. It was ridiculous that your heart should leap out of your chest, especially when it was merely a reply to your assignment. It was past one, and Sam was still up checking coursework. 

Oh, how you wanted to reply back, ask him why he was up this late. But this was an official email ID. It would be wrong to get personal here. Unreasonable as it was, you were miffed that you didn’t have Sam’s phone number. Friends should be able to call each other, right? You could always find it out from the directory, however, you were stubborn about getting it from him.

“Hey, I just heard back from Professor Winchester,” Madison whispered, even though there wasn’t anyone else in the library. “I scored a 21.5!”

“That’s great!” You smiled.

“What about you? Did you hear from him yet?”

“Just. Scored a 23.”

Madison scrunched her nose, “I bet that’s the highest.” She sounded rueful, but you knew she didn’t mean any ill. “You mind if I take a look at your paper?”

“Course not.”

Madison read through your document carefully. “I can see why he rated you this high. This is great work, Y/N! I wonder…”

“What?”

She looked bemused. “In my email, he’s specifically pointed out all the good things and complemented me for my good work. In your reply he’s only pointed out the one flaw that cost you the two marks. He’s not said one good word about the rest.”

Maybe he thought you would understand, or maybe he was just too tired. If not commenting on your essay earned him ten extra minutes of rest, you were very glad that he hadn't.

You shrugged at Madison. “Maybe he forgot.”

“That’s not done,” she frowned. “You should ask him tomorrow.”

“Sure.”

A glazed look came over Madison’s face. “Remember the first time we were alone here?”

“We’d been trying to research for Mr. Winchester’s first assignment,” you smiled.

“And ended up stalking him instead,” Madison winked. “After I went home that day, I read up more about that sensationalised case of his. Really gruesome, the whole deal. Never pinned him for the type of lawyer to take up a criminal law case, let alone homicides.”

“What’s there to fight for in a criminal homicide?” You wondered. “Isn’t that DA’s job?”

You remembered a little from what you had read with Madison that day, over a month ago. Twin homicides followed by a legal battle over property inheritance. The deceased’s brother vs. the deceased son. There were also connected matters of custodial rights, abuse charges and adoption.

“It was really scandalous, Y/N,” Madison said. “You wouldn’t know because you didn’t live in California. It was all over the papers and news in LA. Ralph Simmons was this bigshot producer, and his on and off girlfriend- both of them shot by some drug pimp. A whole big racket came out with it. I think Mr. Winchester moved out of LA to avoid the fanfare that followed him everywhere afterwards.”

“When was this?” 

“Ummm… about two and half years ago,” Madison said. 

So before he started teaching at Stanford, and before his job at Acton Griswold. 

“Why would he leave a successful firm in LA and move base to SF?” You asked out loud. “That too after a successful stint? It doesn’t make sense.”

To your surprise, Madison laughed. “Oh, firms must be dying to have him. Even my dad offered. Apart from offering a junior partnership, Acton Gris must have paid him a ton of money. Besides, his working hours are more like a consultants, so he can manage classes. That’s a lot of relaxations- only someone with that sort of fanfare would have been able to negotiate a deal.”

It wasn’t the money. That much you knew. Something else had made Sam uproot his life in LA and move here. 

“Uhg! I really want to work with him, Y/N,” Madison let out. “I really want the summer internship at Acton Gris.” Seeing your expression, she quickly added, “It’s not why you think. I mean sure he’s super hot and all that, but I’ve looked up to him for his ethics, and the way he thinks. He’s just such a great lawyer.”

“Sure is.”

“I know what you’re thinking,” She said in a defeated voice. “Rich girl with a firm to her name, who could get in Acton Gris by recommendation as a favor. What’s the big deal, right?”

“Maddie, I wasn’t thinking that-”

“It’s alright if you do. Everyone does.”

You placed your hand on top of hers. “I don’t care what everyone else thinks. I care about you. The Madison I know is intelligent and hardworking, who deserves whatever she sets her heart to. Law is a lucrative practice. As long as you aren’t screwing over someone else, you should use whatever means you can.”

Madison’s eyes welled up. “I don’t know what I’d do without you, Y/N. Sometimes… sometimes I wonder if I even have any real friends who care about me. Becca… Lace, Mer… they all feel like friendships of convenience than actual substance. You’re the only one I’m sure will be happy to see me succeed in life.”

Your heart reached out for Madison. She was a good person who didn’t deserve to feel this way. Slowly you reached out and put your arms around her. “Maddie,” You breathed in her hair, not knowing what else to say. You had always known she was hurting inside without her having told you. Her relations seemed frivolous to you, but by the looks of it, her family life wasn’t much good either. Deep down she was convinced that her parents, her brothers didn’t love her. What must it be like to live that way?

You’d never been rich in your life except for those short married months, but not for a minute had you questioned the love of any person you called family. How was one supposed to live on without having the assurance of being absolutely loved?

The way you’ve lived for the past six and a half years, a small voice whispered in your brain. You quelled it immediately.

“Madison,” you said firmly this time. “I love you. And I’ll always support you. To hell with anyone who thinks otherwise.”

She hugged you closer, and you felt her broken breaths against your body. She didn’t want you to see her cry, so you held on till all her tears had dried.

********

You probably looked exactly how you felt- sleepless and exhausted. The first half of day one had gone smoothly with all introductions in place. Over two hundred and fifty alumni had RSVP’d for the event and forty two had agreed to speak or participate in panel discussions. You had been told this was one of the biggest turnouts ever. Instead of feeling like you had succeeded, you just felt more scared. Organised activity wasn’t your cup of tea. Right about then you were questioning how you even ended up heading this committee.

Everyone seemed to be asking for you, everyone had some or the other work with you and the tasks were never ending. The first time that you got a minute to sit was towards the end of lunch break. You dropped into the seat at the far end of the auditorium, head in your hands.

“Here!”

You turned your face to see Sam sitting next to you with a bottle of water in his hand. Unlike his usual self, he was dressed in a light knit grey sweater and jeans today. His glasses hung from the V-shaped neckline, revealing just enough for you to see the glint of his chain. You were so exhausted, all you wanted to do was fall against his shoulder and close your eyes for just two seconds. Sighing, you took the bottle from him and drank to your heart’s content.

“Maybe doing the late night shift at the library wasn’t the best idea, huh?”

You frowned. “How do you know?”

“The register,” He said. “I went to the library in the morning to return my book.”

“I thought you were avoiding the library like the plague.” The words slipped out before you could think them through. You hoped the bitter edge in them wasn’t very obvious. 

“I would come if I could, you know?”

“What’s stopping you?” You asked, belligerent, “Too scared to go back home in the dark?”

You knew it was unfair to put him in a spot like this. He had a home, his own bed. Why would he spend his nights at the library just because you worked there? Just because he hadn’t talked to you all that much lately, or given you his phone number, didn’t mean you had the right to be irritated at him. 

“Y/N-” he sighed, and before he could add on to that, he was interrupted. 

“There you are!” 

Chase Lincoln put a hand on Sam’s shoulder. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere.”

You straightened your expression under the pretense of drinking more water, and handed the bottle back to Sam.

“Thank you, Mr. Winchester,” you said, standing up, “I must hurry back now. If you’ll excuse me.”

Sam stood up with you. The errant thought of resting against his shoulder made an appearance but you shoved it away violently. 

“Wait,” Sam put his hand out to block you. You looked around you to see if anyone else had noticed. No one but Chase.

“Let me introduce the two of you,” he said.

“Wait, I know you,” Chase interjected. “You work with Molly, right? And you’re heading the organising committee.” 

“Chase,” Sam said with gravity, making his friend focus, the green eyes sharpened on you.

Exhaling slowly, Sam turned to you. “This is Chase Lincoln. He works with me at Acton Griswold.” You heard the unsaid words- ‘He’s the one I was talking with that day in the coffee shop; my friend.”

“Chase.” Sam’s voice was heavy, the way Atlas’s might have sounded after a millennia of holding up the earth. There was defeat in it. “This- this is Y/N.”

Each time Sam uttered your name, a warmth settled in your chest. You suspected it was just your eternally besotted mind making up the idea that his voice grew softer when he said it. Apparently, that wasn’t the case, for Chase’s eyes narrowed as he took in the look on Sam’s face, then went wide in a split second. His head rapidly moved from you to Sam in a matter of moments, before his jaw dropped.

“S-... Your… “ Speech seemed to have temporarily evaded Chase. 

“No diamonds,” Sam murmured.

“Y/N!” Someone shouted for you from two rows down. “There’s a problem with the mic. You need to check it out.”

“Ex- Excuse me,” you mumbled, hurrying away from Chase’s astounded stare. Maybe he knew it all, that didn’t particularly surprise you. What did surprise you was how Sam had decidedly made the introduction- as if Chase had to know. 

As it turned out, the mic had only been disconnected. It was working absolutely fine. You were still grateful to have been removed from Chase’s presence, glad that you didn’t have to wait around to witness his judgement. 

The rest of the day flew by faster than you could have guessed. Most of the heavy panel discussions were scheduled for the first day itself. You were blown away by the immense knowledge and expertise of those people, which was a good thing because you desperately needed a distraction. 

You only saw Sam afterwards, once everything was over and the alumni were all catching up with each other, like old friends, reminiscing about the time they had spent together. Even though it was a lot of people there, your eyes kept going to Sam in his thin sweater, in a deep conversation with an aged man, who was laughing at something Sam had said.

“One down, two more days to go,” mumbled Madison. She was leaning against your back. “Can we just sleep here?”

“I told you to come home with me last night,” Rebecca stated, appearing out of nowhere. This time she had Lacey and Meredith with her. “Why did you have to stay up at the library?”

Usually Madison would’ve at least tried to answer. Today, her forehead and nose just dug deeper into your back. You pursed your lips so the smile wouldn’t spill over. She was taking a stand for how she deserved to be treated.

“Well, shit!” Lacey said. “Looks like I wasn’t wrong after all.”

Rebecca groaned. “Ugh she looks like an uptight bimbo.”

You didn’t pay attention to their conversation till Meredith said, “She’s definitely into professor Hotchester.”

Your head snapped up in Sam’s direction, but he was out of the straight line of your vision. Obscuring him was a girl, dressed in a pretty blue chiffon top and tight fitting pencil skirt. Her five inches long pumps caught the light of the setting sun and gleamed. She was tall and beautiful, statuesque in the way a swimsuit model is, her blonde hair fell to the middle of her back in perfect curls. 

As you watched, she threw her hands around Sam’s neck and hugged him tightly. He willingly embraced her, too. You chanced a glance of the smile on his face as she disentangled and laughed, touching Sam’s chest lightly with her hand. 

“Yeah, there’s something there,” Lacey whistled.

“Wonder who she is,” Madison whispered, so only you could hear.

You didn’t need to wonder who it was, you already knew. Jessica Moore. Sam’s Ex-girlfriend.

*******************

A/N 2: I kinda really like the next chapter. I think it speaks more about about the sort of writer and person that I am than most things I’ve written yet. Can’t wait to share it with y’all.

So any predictions? ;)

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[insidious-intent]

Scent Memory

For @malexweek Day 5 prompt - Smut. I’m a day late despite @winged-fool‘s reminders. Obviously, this is nsfw. 

Read on AO3

The group project was on day four, and Michael was getting a little tired of it. The Project Shepherd bunker was a little cramped, but it meant Michael didn’t have to walk too far to get to the bathroom. The downside was that he could hear Liz muttering to herself eight feet to his left, and Kyle was standing a little too close to Alex ten feet to his right. 

He should have left an hour ago, it was getting closer to dinner time and the group had been in various forms of concentration all day. Maybe it was the small space getting to him, maybe it was just the press of people around him. He wasn’t used to working in a group project setting. Yes, that’s what it was. 

He moved back to the file at hand, a distilled list of powers his people were discovered to have, without the added agony of revisiting all the torturous experiments that led to the discovery. He pushed the unnerving thought of the crowded space he was forced to work in out of his mind and returned to the task at hand. 

Michael was successful in focusing for another thirty minutes. He was still thirsty and the bottle of water next to him was empty. Sighing to himself, Michael grabbed the bottle and walked towards the small hallway of ancient lockers where Alex had installed a water filter. 

He walked past the desk where Alex and Kyle were almost fused into a cerberus looking thing, staring and muttering at a large pile of documents. He shook his head, tearing his gaze from Valenti’s exceptional looking ass and kept walking to the filter. 

It wasn’t until after Michael filled up his water bottle that he froze. Had he really thought of Valenti’s ass as exceptional? What the fuck. 

Michael walked back to his table slowly, feeling his heartbeat pick up for some reason. But it couldn’t possibly be from having Valenti’s over-gymmed ass in close proximity to himself. There was no way. 

But Michael could feel his body reacting, the familiar zing of heat down his spine, the way his heart had been beating faster this whole time. He recognized the symptoms, but his mind couldn’t pinpoint the source. Michael’s heart felt like he’d run a marathon, sweat beginning to build up on his skin.

He drank the water down in a few gulps, trying to find a distraction from the heat and slow building arousal. Michael made his way back towards the water filter, the need to walk towards Alex and Kyle pulling at him. He walked slowly, trying to pay attention to his surroundings when the smell hit him. 

It was a soft, subtle scent that surrounded him and made him freeze. The scent was woodsy and earthy, like the smell of soft grass in early summer mornings. Like the smell of wet earth after a thunderstorm. 

Oh. 

Michael closed his eyes and prayed to all generic media based religious entities that Valenti hadn’t switched his deodorant or something. 

“You ok, Guerin?” Alex’s voice right behind him made Michael jump a little. He whirled around to see both Alex and Kyle staring at him. 

“What?” he asked. 

“You’ve been standing there looking like a statue for five straight minutes,” Valenti piped up, and Michael’s glare at him was only half-hearted at best. 

“I was thinking,” Michael replied, thinking on his feet, “I know that’s a foreign concept to gymrats like you.” 

Valenti’s eye roll was expected, but Michael didn’t expect Alex to do the same. Instead of responding, Kyle turned and slapped Alex’s shoulder. 

“This one is your problem now, I’m going home to get some sleep,” he said. “Ortecho, you too, move it.”

Liz’s head whipped up and Michael saw how red her eyes were. Dang, they really needed to keep an eye on the crazy scientists, before Max murdered them for letting Liz get sick. 

“Uh, yeah, I should also go I think. I’m starting to see double,” Liz replied, swaying a little as she grabbed her jacket. 

Alex quickly walked over to help her with her bag and jacket. “Kyle, make sure Rosa knows that Liz needs sleep.” He helped Liz walk over to Kyle, who quickly put an arm around her. “And I’ll talk to you in two days.” 

Michael didn’t do anything but stay in place as the mad scientist duo walked out of the lab. He tilted his head, and tried to see if Valenti’s walk did anything to change how he was feeling. And that’s the only reason he would give for not noticing Alex coming up to stand next to him. 

“Alright, Guerin,” Alex’s voice sounded mild but Michael knew better. “Talk.”

“Um, what?” he said. 

“Don’t what me, Michael,” Alex said. “You were eyeing Kyle as if he was going to shoplift the Project Shepherd files right out of here.” His voice turned a little cold then, “and right then you were most definitely checking out his ass. What’s going on with you?”

Michael tried to pay attention to the words Alex was saying, but his mind and body were racing. He wasn’t reacting to Valenti, it was Alex. Alex somehow smelled different, and Michael’s entire being had become attuned to the difference, reacting to it. 

“Why do you smell like that?” he blurted out instead. 

Alex looked a little taken aback, but it was a fleeting expression. “What do you mean? Smell like what?”

Michael’s brain realized the right words were not being said here, so his body had to put in some work too. He turned to face Alex and slowly but without hesitation, ran a hand down Alex’s arm to grab his wrist. Michael watched Alex’s face carefully as he brought the wrist up to his lips. 

Eyes now closed, Michael let his senses flood through - the feel of Alex’s soft skin against his lips, that tantalizing scent surrounding them. He pressed his lips to the wrist, inhaling deeply, and in the silence of the bunker, the soft responding gasp from Alex echoed loudly. 

“Michael,” Alex’s voice was barely a whisper. Michael opened his eyes and tilted his head, taking in Alex’s flushed high cheeks, and dilated pupils. 

“You smell like me,” Michael said, lips brushing the delicate skin of Alex’s wrist. Alex’s lips parted and Michael felt his pulse thundering against his lips. 

“I think it’s my-” Alex didn’t get to finish, pulled up to Michael’s chest. Michael’s whole body was singing, Alex was in his grasp, and he wasn’t going to let go. 

All he could say was mine before he kissed Alex hard. 

He couldn’t help himself from the wet desperate slant of his mouth on Alex’s, tongues tangling and heated breaths mingling. Alex kissed back with equal force, clumsy and desperate in equal measures. It wasn’t a graceful kiss, but it felt better than any kiss Michael had felt in a long long time, sinking into his bones and lighting him up from the inside. 

Michael curled his fingers into Alex’s thick hair, giving into the kiss. But then out of nowhere, Alex pulled back. 

“Guerin, are you sure about this?” Alex’s voice was so hesitant, so soft, Michael hurt. He had wasted too much time, too much energy on tragedy, and not enough on making Alex feel loved. But now he had started, he wasn’t going to stop. 

Instead of replying he pushed into Alex’s space, fitting his lips over Alex’s in a smooth motion. Alex’s mouth was slick and hot, moving to fit at a different angle than before and Michael arched into him, Alex’s hand tight on the small of his back.

“Alex,” Michael said, incoherent with desire and feeling honey warm like he was slowly getting drunk on the best whiskey. The kiss deepened somehow, both their bodies curved as one. The bunker was filled with sounds of their lips, obscene and loud in the silence. Michael made a sound somewhere between a sigh and a moan, and put both his arms around Alex’s neck. 

“Oh god,” Michael panted when Alex broke away briefly to trail hot kisses down his neck, fastening his mouth to the delicate skin over Michael’s pulse point, “oh god, that’s—don’t stop, just—fuck.” Why weren’t they in bed already?

He tightened his fingers in Alex’s hair and pulled him up again, capturing Alex’s mouth. He’d never kissed anyone like this, not during the years he threw himself at every willing warm body while he pined for Alex. Only Alex’s kisses were fierce and frantic and messy, hands everywhere, kissing like fucking, like they were already naked and grasping at each other in bed, like Alex wanted to take him the fuck apart, fuck him into the mattress, come inside. 

Alex’s scent was like a warm blanket around him, enveloping him from inside out. 

He had no idea when his hands unbuckled Alex’s jeans, but he wasn’t complaining when Alex’s breath hitched, Michael’s fingers skimming the hard length of his cock.

“Michael,” Alex whispered, fumbling to unbutton Michael’s jeans, desperate to get his hands on Michael too. The desire to be closer, to have more skin on skin, burned through Michael. He needed to get his hands on Alex, everywhere. He knocked Alex’s hand away, pushing down his own pants and pulling Alex closer, taking them both in hand. The touch of hot hard skin on skin made them both groan, making Michael rub up against Alex a little faster. 

He could feel Alex starting to shake a little, standing in the middle of a bunker, hands clinging on to Michael’s shoulders. Michael’s entire focus was narrowed down to where his cock was sliding in delicious friction against Alex’s cock, the only anchor keeping him from flying apart. Michael wondered if he could hold them in this moment, an amber casing around the feeling of teetering on the edge, savoring the slide of skin against skin, lips against lips. 

But Michael had been on the edge all day, and from the quiet huffs of choked off moans from Alex, the edge was coming up soon. 

Without any warning Michael came, spilling hot against his hand and on Alex’s cock, making Alex bite off a “Michael!” against his lips before he was coming too. 

They stayed clinging on to each other for a few moments, just breathing together in the quiet. Eventually Alex pushed him back and reached behind him, hands thumping around to grab one of the boxes of tissues they kept around the bunker. Handing tissues to Michael, they both cleaned up and buttoned up in relative silence. 

Alex looked up at Michael as he turned from throwing the tissues in the trash. “So I guess you like the new body wash I got, Guerin,” Alex said, his smirk not doing enough to hide the uncertainty Michael could hear in his voice. 

He walked up and put his arms around Alex, making sure to tuck his fingers in Alex’s back pockets. Grinning, he placed three quick but chaste pecks on Alex’s lips. 

“I like all of you, Alex,” he said. 

Alex’s responding smile was like a slow and warm sunrise, and Michael promised himself to never stop making Alex smile like that. 

[nautiscarader]

Smutember 2020 day 1 - Dirty talk (show), Zalissa (Melizack)

Smutember 2020 day 1 - Dirty talk (show), 

Zalissa (Melizack) (Milo Murphy’s Law), E, 1.8k

(Ao3) 

If you liked my story, here’s a Ko-fi link if you’d be so kind ❤️.    

Prompt suggested by @vickyships

=================

- Nervous, mister Underwood? Is it your first time live on air?

Melissa's voice brought Zack from his short moment of thoughtfulness.

- Me? - Zack returned a cocky smile Melissa blessed him with - Are you kidding? We've been through tougher times. And why did you call me that? - Journalistic integrity. Gotta stay professional, since, you know, we are a thing. - Uh, babe, the entire school knows we are a thing, so- - I know, but let's pretend. - she cut him off - Ssh, we're going live.

Melissa gave him a quick wink and slid the headphones on, just as Lydia, sitting behind glass in the director's room opposite them was giving them signals. She silently counted from five to one, and when the red "On Air" lamp above them turned on, her confident, alluring voice filled the recording room.

- And now, Danville, welcome to another episode of "Chased into the spotlight", a programme where your humble host, Melissa Chase, interviews your favourite local celebrities, idols, oddballs, or whomever is available.

She spoke the intro on a single breath, giving her boyfriend a subtle wink at the end of her opening line.

- Today's guest has moved into our town only a couple of years ago, but he has already made a name for himself, though I will most certainly try to uncover a bit of his past. How are you doing, Zack? - I am fine, Melissa, and thanks for inviting me. - Oh, it is my pleasure for having you.

Her smirk widened just a bit as she spoke those words, prompting a sudden twitch from her interlocutor sitting opposite her. As if nothing has happened, Melissa casually looked at her list of questions and continued.

- Zack, most people know you for being cool, laid-back guy and a loyal friend, but only some of us have heard about your passions and talents. Would you care to tell us about them? - Well, I guess it started when I was a young kid, I liked dressing up for Halloween and that kinda led me to getting interested in theatre and dancing, and I guess singing. - Interesting... - Melissa toyed with her pen, and took one end of it into her mouth, gently grazing it with her teeth - Were you interesting in role-playing? Wearing costumes? Assuming different characters, to enact some of your... fantasies?

Melissa might have wondered about it before, but there was no mistake now - in the lights of the recording studio, she could easily see droplets of sweat on Zack's forehead forming as her words left her mouth, still forming an alluring connection with the pen.

- Uh, well, you-you can say tha-that... - And you have played roles, singing in your boy band, "Lumberzacks". - Melissa interrupted him - Oh, uh, yes. - ... which was of course called "Lumbermaxes", before the lead singer, Max, left, leaving you in charge. Tell me, how does it feel to be chosen as the dominant alpha male of your group? - Wha-what do you mea-AA!

Zack yelped and put hands over his mouth when he felt something smooth sliding up his leg, right up to his crotch. Neither the listeners, nor Lydia could see what Melissa was doing with her feet underneath the table, but neither the pop-filter, nor the equipment could hide his ecstatic voice.

- Impressive vocal range - Melissa commented without missing a beat - Why don't we listen to a clip of your song, long enough to let our viewers experience your talent, and short enough to avoid our channel being taken down by copyright bots?

She nodded towards Lydia, and the familiar tune of a lumberjack-themed song started seeping from the speakers, giving the two a short moment to breathe, though Zack evidently needed it more.

- Mel! - he spoke in half-whisper - What the what was that?

His girlfriend graced him with another smirk, as her foot slid from her shoe and started climbing up his leg again. She looked at the equalised of his microphone and watched as the waves of his breathing osculate with each inch she was travelling up. Their eyes met, and as she travelled up, Melissa wondered if she made the right choice. Though he was nervous, her boyfriend didn't let her know she has won, until her toes found the familiar thickness hidden in the left leg of his jeans. She moved her toes back and forth around his head, until in the corner of her eye Melissa noticed Lydia signalling the end of the clip.

At once, Melissa retracted her foot from between his legs, seeing longing in his eyes and fixed her position in the chair.

- And that was "Forest Fire of My Heart", which I understand you also co-wrote? - Uh, yes - Zack grunted - Usually Max was the head writer, but this is the one song where I proved that I am skilled not only in using my mouth, but also my fingers...

Zack leaned forward, eager to see Melissa's eye widen as hers, but instead, Melissa let out a short and quiet snort.

- Be-because I had to ty-type the song on-on my PC... - Of course.

Melissa restrained herself from bursting into laughter.

- Tell me, in the song, you sing about "Burning wood" and "Fire consuming your body".

She once again half-closed her eyes, and lowered her voice into a seductive, alluring range, accentuating the innuendos.

- Were you describing- - Love.

Zack answered at once.

- I was writing about love, warming one's soul, heart and mind, love that if left unspent can burn bridges and forests. I was thinking, seeing into the future, perhaps, about a flame with a flaming red hair that I will meet one day and make her cheeks burn with the same fire...

It was time for Melissa to stare at her sly-looking lover with a dumbfounded, empty expression on her face, while the room and the airwaves were filled with nothing but silence for a solid twenty seconds.

- Uhm, this-this is all the time we have for today, Lu-Lumberzacks are about to have a- uh, reunion charity concert on Saturday, and you can buy the-the tickets on our website, though I should warn you, the first row is already sold out because I will buy all of them.

She waved quickly at Lydia to end the recording early, and soon as the red light above them and the one behind the glass were turned off, Melissa regained some confidence in her voice.

- How much time do we have till next classes? - Fifteen minutes. - Perfect. - And keep the headphones on, you look sexy in it - Zack spoke just as Melissa was about to take it off.

The sound-proof walls contained Melissa's shriek that escaped her mouth when Zack grabbed her waist and lifted her up just so he can slam her against the table. Anticipating his move, she spread her legs, and the second he slid between them, they closed behind his back in a tight lock, and a quick kick to his ass made him press his crotch against her wet sex.

While his lips found hers, her hands at once dashed between their heated bodies, to the same length she was massaging through his jeans, and after a few seconds of fumbling, he slid into her delicate palm. She wished they had time for delicate foreplay, but the heat burning between her legs told her she needs a far, far quicker fix for that.

She ended their ravenous kiss just so she could hear his voice cracking when his cock's head pushed aside the strip of her soaked panties and parted her puffy lips, followed by a savoured, blissful moment of tranquillity. But metaphorical tables were turned pretty quickly on her, when Zack used those few seconds to gather strength and sank inside her in one, smooth move which made Melissa's body arch as her senses were overwhelmed by her lover's filling her up.

- You... you would like this to be live, on air, wouldn't you...?

Melissa taunted him, eager to see his eyes widen at her salacious proposal.

- I want to proclaim my love to you to the who-whole school... - he grunted leaning against her for a kiss - And the nation. Even world. - And space, don't forget that. We know they got your songs out there...

Picking up speed, the two lovers moved in unison, racing both together and against each other, with the words of Zack's song still in their heads. Melissa didn't know whether it was poor air conditioning, or maybe their bodies grinding against each other have made the wooden table catch fire, but with each second she felt her core superheating.

- Me-Melissa... - Zack groaned, feeling the same overwhelming need in his loins - Where- - Inside - she answered at once in a broken voice - i want your seed to extinguish the fire inside me...

Those were the last words Melissa could speak with a clear mind. Melissa's final moan rivalled his grunts, and the sound-proof room trapped them around the two, just as their mouths joined again, rocking their shared climax that made the table slam against the wall with each thrust of Zack's hips and each portion of his cum that flooded her womb.

After another minute or so, the aggressive noise died down, just as the first wave of blissful afterglow began engulfing the two young adults. Zack gave Melissa a charming smile, leaned against her, and Melissa automatically closed her eyes, waiting for her lover's lips... But after a while of waiting she realised something must have gone wrong.

When she looked at him again, she saw a terrified look in his eyes, fixated at some point behind her, and when she tilted her head back, she noticed a single figure in the director's room that was lit once again.

Even with the image of her friend upside-down, Melissa could spot Lydia's burning cheeks and equally frightened look on her face, as the poor soul didn't know how to react to finding her friends in flagranti. Slowly, she decided to back away, though she never took her eyes (nor her phone) away from Zack and Melissa's half-naked, tangled bodies, until the director's room was empty once more.

- Well, I think we should count our blessings. - Zack huffed - If it was Milo, we would be live and everyone would hear us. - Are you saying everyone won't hear about it? - Melissa raised her eyebrow, and cupped his face to give him a kiss. - Get ready for an extra amount of awkward interviews for the next few days. Also, I am going to take the headset home, if you like me wearing it. - Yeah, shame it doesn't go with anything, so you'll have to be naked.

Zack laughed when Melissa gave him a light punch just as the two began to cover up their mess.  

[riseandshinelittleblossom]

Hoping For Home Ch 9- “Drive”

Summary: Sixteen years ago Libby Scott was supposed to become Queen of Cordonia, but Fate had other plans. Catch up here.

Special Thanks to @emichelle​for pre-reading and @ao719 for constantly being my sounding board for this piece. ily both As always please let me know if you wish to be added or removed from the tags!

Disclaimer: I don’t own the TRR characters, they own me.

Song Rec  for this Chapter:  “Drive” By Incubus

Tags:  @ao719​@ritachacha​ @leelee10898​ @fullbeaumonty​ @emichelle​ @lodberg​ @pedudley​ @blackcoffee85​ @drakesensworld​ @thequeenofcronuts​ @kingliam2019​ @dcbbw​ @allaboutchoices​ @desireepow-1986​ @princessleac1​ @dianalend​ @valtorian-duchess​

      Tessa had a fire burning in the master suite by the time the court arrived at Valtoria, and just like a moth Libby found herself drawn to it. 

      The manila folders felt heavy in her hands, as if lead weights lie within and she ran her fingers the length of them before turning them over in her hands.

       Lady Emma Louise Scott  in teletype across the front of one, Lord William James Scott on the other. After so many years of wondering the answer was finally in front of her. Instead of relief however, Libby felt a tight ball of panic in her chest.

      She watched the flames dancing up the wall within the hearth as it crackled and popped. Her mind wandered to the dream she'd had of the burning house. The way Liam tried desperately to calm her and the voices of her twins begging him to save them.  She shuddered at the thought.

     Libby had always been fond of fire, she'd always appreciated it's cleansing capabilities. It was the reason she'd chosen the Phoenix as her house sigil so many years ago.

   Perhaps these weighted envelopes could somehow find their way into the blaze before her. It would make her clean again. She could take her children far away from this place, shield them from the finality of the knowing. 

       "Spare a moment for a ghost of friendships past?" 

        Without even realizing, a smile formed on her lips that reached from ear to ear.

      "Always." She replied, sweeping her arm with a flourish towards the elegant chaise behind her.

     Maxwell jammed one hand in his pocket, the other running through his tousled locks as he crossed the floor to meet her. He perched precariously on the edge of the cushion and feigned a smile.

     "Watcha got there?" 

      "Bills. From the states." Libby lied, taking a seat next to him and tucking the envelopes behind her.

     He nodded staring into the flames, their warmth licking up his legs.

      "How are you, Maxwell?"

      "I'm fine. I'm good. I'm...uh….how are you?"

      Libby shook her head with a small snort.

     "I'm still here," She chortled.

     "For now,"

     Her eyes flicked to the man beside her to find he still stared straight ahead, his flippant comment clearly being swept away in his mind.

     He cleared his throat before he faced her, elbows resting on his knees and they brushed hers as they fell apart.

    "S-sorry." 

     Libby waved her hand dismissively, peering directly into his baby blues.

    "So I suppose we'll have our answers soon then, right?"  Maxwell asked, his fingers twisting together.

    "Any day now."

     "Well don't sound so excited, little blossom."

     A nervous giggle escaped her. 

    "I'm sorry I just….I do want to know. I've always wanted to know. Now that I'm standing on that precipice…" her words trailed off and Maxwell impulsively reached out, his long fingers engulfing her hand.

     For a brief second she stared down at them, heart racing, before returning her eyes to meet his.

   "I'm scared, Max. Petrified."

    His grip tightened and he nodded.

    "Whatever the answer I want you to know I'm still here for you."

     Libby tucked her lip between her teeth. 

    "As-as a friend, ya know? I'm your friend. Frrrriiieeennndd." 

     The ginger woman laughed, a hearty sound from the pit of her stomach. Leave it to Maxwell to try and lighten the mood.

    "What's so funny? I don't want you getting the wrong idea here. This bod may have some miles on it but it's still hard to resist." 

     He licked the ends of his middle fingers before touching them to his clothed nipples.

     "Oh yes, you're so enchanting, Lord Beaumont. However could I tell you no?"

     Maxwell flicked his wrists, wiping his hands smugly over his hair.

    "Many have tried, Your Grace, and many have failed."

    As if on cue he shot Libby with double finger guns just as she shot him with hers and they both erupted in a fit of giggles.

    "Serious faces okay? I support you and your decisions, no matter what they mean for me, Blossom. I want you to know that. Maybe if I had made that clearer to you years ago, you'd have stayed. I was angry and bitter, Libby. For a long, loooong time. You really did a number on me,"  he grasped her hand once more, sliding his opposing forefinger under her chin to tilt her face to his. "I'm not bitter anymore. I just want you to be deliriously happy, and I want what's best for your kids.

    I can see it on your face, Lib, you're ready to run. You're itchin to fly as far away from this situation as you can get. But I hope you stay. I hope you do the right thing and face this like the beautiful, smart, strong woman I know you are. I just...I hope you stay. Forever this time. You belong here, Blossom, and so do Emma and Will." 

     Without further ceremony Maxwell all but hopped off of the chaise, bouncing towards the doorway.

     "M-Maxwell…" 

      He cast his gaze over his shoulder to look at her, eyebrow raised.

    "Thank you. Somehow you always have a way of knowing exactly what to say and more importantly, when to say it."

      "Not always, but I try. That's my whole point, Blossom. I show up and I try. Sometimes I fuck up spectacularly, but the other times?" He touched his forefinger to the tip of his nose with a wink, and headed out the door.

************************

                Emma skipped down the corridor, gripping the door jamb as she spun inside Will's bedroom.

         "They're here," she grinned. A squeal escaped her and she stomped her feet, whirling in a circle. 

         "What are?" 

         Will held a small tablet and pen, brow furrowed as he scrawled across it, never looking up at his sister.

      "The results." 

      Will could barely hear what she was saying next. It was if he were in a tunnel, everything was muffled and echoed except the beating of his heart in his ears.

      All of his life Will had waited to find out who his father was and finally the results had arrived.

     Emma took hold of his shoulders shaking him gently from his astonishment.

     "Did you hear me, ya big doofus? Mom wants us all to meet in the parlor right now so we can open them."

********************

              Maxwell was the last to take a seat in the grand parlor at Valtoria estate. He glanced around at everyone, his eyes finally resting on Libby as she rose from her seat armed with the envelopes that were about to change everyone's lives forever.

      On the surface she looked calm, but Maxwell could feel her unsettled nerves even across the room.

      He watched as she handed each of her  children an envelope, and they exchanged glances with one another before Olivia piped up,

     "All at once, then. That's my vote."

     Emma nodded resolutely, locking eyes with her brother as she slid one finger under the opening tearing the glue with ease.

    Each twin read their paperwork and a thick silence filled the room. Maxwell held his breath.

      "Liam. Liam is my father." Emma finally announced, mystified by the words as she read them over and over again.

        A stillness filled the room. Maxwell stood taking a deep breath and exhaling slowly. With every ounce of decorum he could muster, he swept into a deep bow.

      "Your Royal Highnesses. It had been a pleasure. Now if I may be excused….Long live Princess Emma and Prince William of Cordonia."   

     He turned abruptly, making it to the doorway in just a few strides; but before he could make his exit Will's words rang out,

       "Are you sure you read that right, Em?"

     He plucked the paper from his sister's hand as she shrieked in opposition. Maxwell paused, eyes cast over his shoulder at the scene behind him.

     Will's eyes darted back and forth rapidly as he studied both sets of results before finally he looked at his mother in disbelief.

     "Mom, how is this possible?"

      He handed the papers to his mother and she read them over carefully, one hand coming up to cover her mouth when she had processed them both.

      "What is it, Libby?" Liam questioned.

      "Emma is your daughter, sir," Will began, "I am Maxwell's son."

[justlightlysedated]

for @fraudulentzodiacs 🥰💜💜

*

Alex is staring at his reflection, at the shiny golden make-up that had been painted across the bottom half of his face, at the way he can see right there reflected back at him through his eyes that this is one hundred percent the biggest mistake of his life, but he’s not going to be the one to break the tentative treaty between Antar and Earth just because he was going to be miserable for the rest of his life.

The door to his private chambers opens and Alex startles, jumping backwards and immediately getting into a defensive position, hand flying to his hip before he remembers that he doesn’t carry a gun anymore and that he has a group of personal bodyguards stationed outside every conceivable entrance.

Michael closes the door behind himself with a loud thunk and exhales roughly, turning to look for Alex, already speaking.

“Man, these doors of yours weigh a ton, what are they trying to keep ou-”

He trails off as he catches sight of Alex, and Alex tries not to look as uncomfortable as he feels in the practically sheer, golden tunic that he’s wearing.

“What are you doing here?” Alex demands in a low voice, taking a menacing step forward.

Michael just blinks at him, lips slightly parted, like he’s been struck stupid by something.

Alex doesn’t have time for this. He has to mentally prepare himself for the first day of the rest of his life, and Michael can’t be standing right there looking like all of the reasons that Alex shouldn’t go through with this.

“Guerin,” he snaps, and Michael just keeps staring. “Just say what you need to say and go. I have to finish getting ready.”

That seems to snap Michael out of whatever daze he’s in as he pushes himself off the doors and stalks towards Alex, absolutely predatory.

“Right,” he drawls, slowing to a stop right in front of Alex, closer than they have been over the last six months, ever since Alex found himself taking a lead role in the negotiations between the Antarian Royals and the Ambassadors of Earth. “You have to finish getting ready for your wedding.”

He grimaces as he says the last word and Alex really doesn’t have time to hear another speech about how he’s making a mistake, especially from Michael.

“Look,” Alex says crossing his arms across his chest. “I already heard the speech from Liz and from Maria and from Kyle and even from Isobel and Max. I already know you all think it’s a shitty idea. But no one seems to be able to come up with a better one! So if you’re not here to offer something constructive please get out.”

Michael swallows hard and stares at him for a long moment before he takes another step closer, placing himself firmly at arm’s length.

“Did you mean it?” He asks, and doesn’t elaborate, but it’s not like Alex doesn’t already know that he’s talking about the speech that Alex had made in front of the Antarian Royal Counsel and had been streamed all over the planet and all over Earth.

Alex drops his hands to his sides, sighing, “Of course I meant it. I wouldn’t have said it otherwise. What your people need is honesty, not more lies.”

Michael swallows hard and shakes his head a little, “I don’t want you to have to do this out of some twisted sense of duty and responsibility over what your ancestors did to mine years ago.”

“That’s not the only reason that I’m doing this,” Alex says, and Michael gives him an incredulous look.

“You mean you actually like that pompous dick?”

Alex rolls his eyes a little. There is literally nothing likeable about Sir Yenn, heir apparent to the throne of Antar. Alex hopes that he’ll get to pick a wing of the castle and never have to deal with him, but he knows that’s probably a vain hope.

“No,” he says, because he promised Michael, no more lies or secrets what feels like years ago. “This is the only way to keep the treaty.”

Michael stares at him for a long moment.

“So you’re doing this because a union between an Earth Ambassador and an Antarian Royal is what is needed to close the deal?”

“Liz and Max can’t do it since you all cut ties to the Antarians and abdicated your birthright to remain on Earth. Maria offered, but Isobel would kill me if I picked her up on it, and besides, none of them deserve to be trapped in a loveless marriage.”

“But you do?” Michael asks, voice tight with tension, and a strange inflection that Alex doesn’t have the time to analyze right now.

“I’m not married or about to get engaged or even have anyone waiting for me back on Earth. There is nothing that I wouldn’t give up to do this.” Alex responds.

“What about me?” Michael bites out.

Alex’s brow furrows in confusion. “What about you?”

Michael gapes at him for a second like he can’t believe that Alex asked that before he speaks.

“If you think that I’m just going to let you go through with this-” he starts incensed and takes another step forward.

Alex scoffs and takes a step towards him as well, “Let me? Let me? Who do you think you are, Guerin? Because my dad died months ag-”

“I think that I’m the man that loves you that’s what!” He snaps and Alex stops speaking, eyes going wide as he gapes at Michael.

“And if you’re getting married to anyone today, it’s going to be me.”

Before Alex can ask him what he means by that. Michael’s fingers are pressing against his jaw, tugging him forward, gentle but insistent.

Michael’s mouth crashes into his and Alex promptly forgets about everything else.

He wraps his arms around Michael’s waist and sinks into the kiss, pushing against Michael and kissing him harder.

Michael bites against his mouth, making low desperate sounds at the back of his throat as he drags his hands into Alex's hair, messing it all up as he uses the hold to keep Alex still as he licks into his mouth and deepens the kiss.

Alex whines low in the back of his throat and tangles his hands in the silky fabric of the coat Michael is wearing and moves in closer, feeling the heat of Michael sink into him.

Michael parts their mouths on a gasp and drops his forehead to Alex's.

"You love me?" Alex asks breathless.

Michael just pushes their foreheads together harder. "You can't get married to someone else."

Alex closes his eyes tightly.

"We don't have any other choice," he says in a low voice.

"There is always another choice," Michael says, and then he's kissing Alex again, and Alex kisses him back, feeling it finally sinking in that this will be the last time that he'll ever get this.

He had had this thought before plenty of times but there was something so much more permanent about what he was about to do than when he'd joined the Air Force.

Michael parts their mouths again, and Alex's eyes flutter open.

He looks at Michael and Michael stares right back and for the first time in a long time, Alex feels seen. He wonders if it will be the last time.

"You're doing this no matter what, huh?" He asks, voice low and rhetorical, already knowing the answer, but Alex speaks anyway.

"It's the only way to make sure that everyone is safe," Alex whispers back.

Michael inhales deeply, "Okay."

Alex feels the air catch painfully at the back of his throat and his eyes dart all over Michael's face, and he feels a little bit disappointed about the fact that Michael  isn't going to fight him about this anymore.

His hands go tighter in the fabric of his jacket and he pushes their foreheads together harder, shaking his head. "Guerin, I-"

The doors open again, crashing hard enough against the walls that the sound reverberates around the room.

Michael and Alex jump away from each other, Michael moving to block Alex with his body.

Standing in front of the open doors is Alex's husband to be, along with half of the Royals and most of Alex's body guards, staring at them with an air of disapproval.

Alex doesn't have to look in the mirror to see that both of their faces are covered in the gold makeup that two ladies had painstakingly covered Alex's face in earlier.

"What is the meaning of this?" Sir Yenn asks, and Alex inhales deeply, preparing himself to speak, when Michael talks.

"This whole wedding thing that's supposed to happen, it has to be between one of your blood and one from earth, is that right?" He asks, Marrth, the Matriarch, and Old Queen Mother, progenitor of the current Royal line, including Michael.

"That is correct," she says, and there is a spark in her eyes that Alex has never seen in the last couple of months of negotiations.

"Alright," Michael says. "Then I change my mind."

Alex freezes for one second as understanding sinks through him as he finally gets what Michael has been trying to tell him.

"I, Prince General Rath of Antar, fourth of my name, renounce my abdication and hereby claim my birthright to the throne of Antar."

"Michael," Alex says, finally finding his voice.

Michael turns to him, and there is a wild look in his eyes, but also determination.

Michael doesn't let him speak as he drops to one knee in front of Alex, and Alex freezes again.

"And as Prince General and the Heir to the Throne, I ask you, Captain Alexander Manes, Ambassador of Earth and Keeper of the Treaty, to become my husband and so uniting both of our worlds for the rest of time?"

Alex stares at Michael still feeling shocked at this turn of events and not entirely comfortable in front of all of these people, but when it comes down to it, there is only one answer that Alex has for Michael.

"Yes," he breathes, and feels how the entire room seems to sigh in relief. "Of course."

[musedblues]

Hello Again

Part 1 of (maybe 2?)

W/C: 8k

Summary: Gwilym has always been around, somewhere in the background of your fast-moving life. But when summer comes along, you finally slow down enough to take a closer look.

Warnings: Allusion to/ Mentions of alcoholism? Nothing too horrific! 

A/N: I’m writing again! Rather, finally getting around to uploading things I’ve had written for ages. There will be a second part to this in the very near future! Please enjoy my hopeless fantasizing, gang! (and don’t be afraid to let me know if you do!) _

You had nearly forgotten all about your past twenty-three years of living, on your rampage through the American desert: and that was your mission...  To focus on nothing besides soaking up every the last ray of the blistering hot sun before summer vacation was over, and you had to start senior year of college. You were a history major and initially had big dreams of becoming a librarian or a museum director, so that you could enjoy immense hushed quiet all day before going out with your best girlfriends at night.

You loved to take it easy, especially after a night of partying so hard. You and your friends had established yourselves as the college's most wild group up until earlier this year when you nearly KO'd after staying in the hospital for a month due to alcohol poisoning. You took the school year slow, and when summer came, you piled your three closest friends and took off on a stereotypical road trip. Good, clean fun.  

When you weren't driving, your trip was mainly spent poolside, humming along to the static radio Francine toted along with her everywhere. The battery-powered thing would even work in the car sometimes, which came in handy as your vintage mustang wasn't equipped with a port for an aux cord or a radio that worked any longer.

Francine spread her gangly legs across Emma's lap in the back while Tilly sat in your passenger seat, flexing her map reading muscle on a mission to be totally directionally literate by the end of the road trip across the southwest. But then your car broke down forty miles deep into death valley and you all had to cram your belongings and yourselves into the back of a cab. Other friends might not have survived being squished together like sardines. But you made it to the Vegas airport without a foul word between the bunch of you.

Granted, Emma started to cry because the cab smelt of ham and Tilly's beloved map blew across the sandy horizon as you sat on the roadside, waiting to be rescued. You all relied on each other to keep a cool head, like always.

Your three roommates were sometimes too much to handle at once, but over the past three years of college and dates and sickness and flunked classes, you'd be lost without your best friends.

Once you all got back home to California with a bundle of stories to tell and a lot of left over time to fill up, the only thing to do was crash. 

Luckily, your brother's fancy new home was the closest and coolest stop. So you decided to take over his pool house like you were still on some kind of adventure.

"How's your brother so well off? And is he well off.. in other areas?" Francine pipped up. She blew away some of her frizzy strands of hair that made her seem like the coolest hippie alive, with a name to match. Her boldness never faltered in style or speak.

"Hm, strange I've suddenly lost my hearing." You quipped, grossed out by the thought of your brother being lusted after.

"Just don't bother him, okay? I'm welcome in the pool house without question so none of you are allowed to mess this up for us!" You informed. Your brother, Daniel, bought the house earlier in the year sometime when a film project he was apart of paid off pretty well. You'd forgotten anything to do with his big winnings in your previously alcoholic state.

"Oh, just go shower! We're gonna search through the movie cabinet and bask in the glow of this projector." Emma beamed.

The pool house was a studio with a tiny square marble kitchen, a living room complete with a bunch over oversized beanbags, and two twin beds hidden in the sunken pit lounge area. The space was designed in the '70s and the golden shag carpet still remained to prove it. This was the faux frat house your brother escaped to when the fancy chandelier in his adjacent home shone a little too brightly for his liking.   The best part of the pool house was the film projector and the massive pull-down screen, like a tiny personal movie theater. Though your brother was a bigger fan of dated television series', a few classic films found their way into his collection on the wall-length shelf.

You left the hip space to take a breather in the grey tiled bathroom, taking your time washing off the sheen of dust and sweat your road trip disaster left you in. When you returned to the living room to take Emma's place on the sofa while she scampered to the shower, the girls had popped in some movie of their liking.

"Top End Wedding. I've never heard of it." Tilly called from the floor, crawling around to put the disc in the player. She had already placed the cover back into its rightful spot on the shelf.

"What's that even mean?" Francine wondered, snuggling under a furry blanket.

"Shut up and find out like the rest of us." Tilly offered, plopping back against a florescent bean bag.

You chuckled as the movie started, but turned your attention your cell phone after it started too buzz. There was an email from the death valley mechanic addressing the problems he had to fix in order to get your car running again. You typed back a response in a hurry. When your friend's giggles cut through your focus, you clicked your phone off and turned your attention back to the film.

You'd completely missed the first scene, catching only glimpses of lush green islands and a lady with a broken high heeled shoe. But then a familiar voice spoke up.

"I have to take her to court?" Gwilym Lee was on the screen. Of course, he was. He appeared unmistakably himself... but much different from the last time you recalled seeing the man.

You silently chuckled to yourself, wondering whatever became of your brother's best friend. After Daniel and Gwilym finished grad school together, Gwilym was apparently apart of a few major British productions and a well off guy. But between your focus on college and some extra wild nights out, you'd barely seen your brother outside of holiday celebrations. So Gwyilm was hardly ever brought up in conversation. Or maybe he was, and you were just too maxed out to register. Be that as it may, the blue-eyed man was on the screen now... looking rather grown-up.

"My God he's a catch am I right?" Tilly pipped up, sipping vodka she'd found in the mini-fridge. Did she really think so? Dear old Gwilym?

"Look at him! That actress is so tiny next to him, God. Imagine being pinned between him and a wall." Francine swooned, in her usual lovestruck wonder.

And the intrusive thought was frightening to you. Because it seemed almost appealing. Gwilym hugged you goodbye once, some odd years ago. His strong arms were certainly brought a comfort you could still recollect.

"Confirmation that we're all hot for this Ned character?" Tilly turned her pretty feathery head of hair to you. You were busy bitting your thumbnail and wondering when Gwilym had gotten so buff.

"Huh? Oh yeah, Ned's cool." You nodded emptily.

"Pfft!" Francine spat, sitting up and leaning across a pillow toward you. "Get your head out of your car troubles and look at this fine British hunk!"

"I thought this was an Austrian film?" Tilly wondered.

"He's clearly British! Listen up! Haven't you paid attention during the world's fair week?" Francine rang, lifting her own glass of vodka toward the screen.

Your phone buzzed again and you desperately hoped it was the man who would assure your car was liable and you could pick it up and drive it through the desert some more before summer vacation ended. But instead, your brother's name blinked across your dim screen.

Daniel: Are you in the pool house? Come inside for a second. Leave the sorority behind. (No offense)

"I'll be right back. Pools open! Just don't come in the house!" You called out the rules your brother gave you the first time you stayed here. Your friends groaned. You scurried out the window paneled door and across the stone packed pathway to Daniel's deck. The back porch light was on and its reflection glistened off the pool. Was he going to be pissed that you remembered where he hid the spare key and tell your gang to leave? Did he just want to say hello? If he did, why wouldn't he just come out to greet you?

You knocked a couple of times to warn of your requested intrusion. The kitchen was empty and dark but there was a chatter coming from the living room. Your brother must have had company. Why did you need to come in here?

That's when Vinny and Violet came bounding up the basement staircase toward you in a fluffy flurry. They were sibling Burmese Mountain dogs whose nails were clicking against the cherry wood floor as they pranced below your feet; a very excitable greeting.

"Y/N? Come in here!" Daniel's low timbre was heard in from the living room and the sound of clinking glasses followed. Your brother Daniel was standing from his luxurious leather sofa, smiling and gesturing you into the room. On the other side of the sofa was a man you hadn't seen in years, but had just been reminded of only moments ago.

"Gwil is in town! I thought I heard you outside and we were just talking about you."

Oh my God. He was hot. You tried to stifle your shock at the stone-carved beauty of a brother's best friend that rose to his feet before you.

"Hello, again Y/N! Looking very comfortable." Gwil's voice was silky and wonderfully British. The accent would always catch you off guard. But his enchanting voice only reminded you how silly you must have looked in your sad excuse for pajamas. You wore tattered sweat pants and a torn-up tshirt that bared too much of your collar bone to be deemed appropriate.

And the angelic Gwilym was in well-fitted slacks and a dress shirt, blue eyes glimmering, muscles rippling past his perfect clothes.

"Hi, Gwil!" You chimed, really mustering the strength to sound normal. But what was normal between the pair of you? You'd met him a total of three times.

"Why are you all the way over in this part of town?" Daniel wondered, shifting his weight and glancing at you.

"My car broke down in death valley and your place was closest. Hope it's alright if we crash for the night?"

"I left the pool house key out for a reason! It's never a bother. I like that you're comfortable enough to stay. Roxanne never even comes over." Daniel complained about your middle sister. Roxanne was an unassuming girl with an interest in botany that left her camped out in national parks for weeks at a time. Your sister would talk about plants little to nothing else, besides her terrible crush on Gwilym Lee. A shameless attraction you'd all too suddenly understood.

"How's she?" Gwilym asked with a knowing smile. She could never hide the way she melted in Gwil's presence.

"She's been the movies this year, if that's what you're asking."  Daniel chortled. You wondered for a moment if the film your friends had found in the cabinet was one that made it to theaters. Was Gwilym finally featured on the big screen? And did Roxanne really still have that girlish crush?

"She's been seeing a lot of that Max guy, actually. I know because she does, in fact, call me every weekend." You chided, looking to Daniel with a smile.

"Yeah to make sure you're not dead." Daniel retorted. He was never a fan of your wild streak. Bless him. "She's always up to something crazy. Practically Instagram famous." Daniel buffed your confidence, gushing over his very own kid sister.

"I have a few thousand followers, it's really not uncommon." You assured your brother, who'd never gotten more than twelve likes on his own posts.

"Cute." Gwilym smiled. He looked you up and down and if you weren't sporting the world's nastiest pajamas. You'd dare to wonder if he liked what he saw.

"Well I better get back were-" You caught your breath and tore your curious gaze away from your brother's best friend. "...having quite the girls night."

Daniel nodded in response.

"You staying for a while? See you around?" You asked Gwilym. You were a naturally curious girl, and Gwilym Lee was extremely easy on the eyes. Why wouldn't you want to look a little longer?

"Yeah, I'll be in town. See ya around, kid." Gwilym's perfect smile was photograph worthy. But that remark stung. You were just Daniel's littlest sister, to Gwilym.

Later that evening you excused your bout of absence with some white lie about your brother needing help with his dogs after a bath.

The death valley mechanic eventually emailed you with good news, so you text your brother and asked if he could take you through the desert on a mission to get your car back. He happily agreed to take you and to let the girls take over the pool house for the day.

///

Your eyes fluttered open, blinded by the sharp white rays of sun boomeranging off the pool and into the window by your bed. Emma was passed out on the adjacent bed, snoring peacefully. There were more shuffles and chatter from the level above you and you knew the other girls were awake. You heard muted squeals and high pitched whispers floating through the pool house, and among them, a lower voice grumbled.

"Y/N! Ned's here!" Francine's unmistakably excited voice rang out.

"Oh, lovely!" You heard Gwilym let out a far off chortle.

Shit. What! Why? You bolted out of the twin bed and up the couple of steps, feet flying over the inexplicable shag carpet toward the double doors.

Gwilym was dressed for the day, in khaki shorts, a white short-sleeved button-up, and turtle framed glasses hiding the sparkle of his sea-blue eyes. And he was standing in the doorway with that stupid smirk, looking right at you.

"Gwil! Hi?" You reasoned, shouldering past Francine who was clutching the open door frame with her jaw hovering just above the floor.

"I texted you a bunch- but I see you were still asleep." Gwilym grinned, shoving his hands in his pockets.

"Is everything alright?" You wondered suddenly. You didn't even care that your hair was sticking in different directions, and the man had already seen your atrocious excuse for pajamas.

"Well, Dan got called into work. Left in a big hurry and asked if I'd help you out today. Fancy a lift? He took his SUV. Left the Buick." Gwil actually smirked, like he was making a sweet deal.

That's when Emma let out a gasp from somewhere behind you. She'd spent the first half of Top End Wedding in the shower, but quickly joined your friends to gush over the main character upon her joining the film

Gwilym's eyes left yours for a moment to glance over your shoulder to the house full of girls.

"Uh... alright." You gave a nervous grin, realizing you didn't really have another option. Daniel trusted Gwilym with his vehicle. If he caught one of your college friends behind the wheel of his car, he'd blow a gasket for certain.

"Uh, give me a minute to get my self together?" You nodded to Gwilym. The pair of you had never really spent any kind of quality time with each other. Only sat beside each other during dinners out with your brother's friends and across the living room sharing jokes. This was very different. Did you trust Gwil?

"Sure. I'll wait here if you lot don't mind." Gwil turned his bright gaze to Francine who's chipped nails were still digging into the open door. The girl gave a subtle nod, watching Gwil creep toward the kitchen counter.

"What the hell is going on?" Tilly laughed as you gestured past her.

"Secrets out! Gwil is a family friend. Please don't freak him out." You groaned, scooting to the bathroom. Tilly gapped at you as you spun into the bathroom to pull yourself together.

After finding an old Sargent Pepper tshirt in your bag and managing your hair into a suitable fashion, you hurried back out of the bathroom to hit the road; praying that your friends hadn't corned Gwilym.

The girls were scattered around the kitchen, leaning against counters with their eyes plastered on Gwil. He was like a wonder of the world. An uncovered treasure splayed out in the open.

You had spotted your sandals by the counter and were stepping into them as Tilly asked daft questions to Gwilym about how he knew me, and just exactly how rich he was. The man answered Tilly with grace and caution. Was he really so easy-going? After apologizing profusely and shooting daggers to your girlfriends it was time to go.

"You can use the pool and the dogs will probably hang out. Francine, you're in charge of disaster prevention!" You pointed your way out of the door, as Gwilym followed with a chuckle. Funnily enough, the brash girl was the clearest head in times of trouble.

Gwilym shuffled toward the garage and as you passed into the musty room, feeling a little sick to your stomach.

"Gwil, are you sure this is how you want to spend your day? I don't want to ask too much of you."

"Oh get in the car. I haven't got a thing to do until Dan gets back tonight. There's no harm in a little road trip, is there?"

"Three hours one way. This is your last chance to back out."

Gwilym was already behind the wheel, buckling his seat belt with a smile. You had no choice but to shrug and scramble in the passenger. At least this ride had a radio.

Five minutes in.

"Where's my turn?" Gwilym panicked, steering the wheel sharply to swerve out of the way of roadkill.

"Next exit. When did you learn to drive in the States? Yesterday?" He was almost too quick to react.

"Ha. Ha." Gwilym produced a dry laugh, speeding up ever so slightly. "Last year. A couple of mates and I spent the summer driving around this very desert, I'll have you know."

"Hmm, I see." You smiled as you tried to picture Gwilym going on some great adventure. As far as you knew, his work was his life. Must be some pretty important pals to have tricked the tall man into having a little long-lasting fun. Was he always so cute when he smiled like that?

20 minutes later.

"It's too late now Gwilym. We're already on the freeway and the next exit is only a private ranch."

"But I want a soda so bad." The Englishman whined. For some reason, that surprised you. You realized you really didn't know this guy at all. But you really wanted too. So you promised Gwilym you'd track down the closest fast-food spot and started into an easy-going conversation.

"What would you be doing today if I wasn't in such desperate need?" You teased but you really wanted to know more about the man. The pretty, pretty man.

"Back home? Probably spending the day at a sports game. Having a few drinks at night. Maybe a film to wrap up the evening? That or working I'm sure."

"Yeah, I'm sure." These were things you already knew about Gwil. But you could have listened to him drone on in that delicatessen accent forever and a day.

"What about you? Still out till the odd hours? Still dating that Rodney fellow?"

You couldn't help but let a snort escape you as you turned your head toward Gwil. Had it really been so long since you'd seen him?

"I broke Rodney's heart three years ago, Gwil. I dated around for a while but it's been a busy time. I've not even had time to drink myself sick all year." You smirked. Gwil let out a shocked chuckle. He was right to do so. You used to have a little too much fun.

"No time to do anything but cram. I've not even been to the movies. What do you know about those?" You grinned. It was his dream to act. You felt a little bad for not keeping better track of the local theater. Surely Gwilym had made it to the big screen by now.

"I heard you saw a certain one last night." Gwil pipped up gently. Ah yes, Francine introduced the man at the door as 'Ned.'

"Yeah, that... We found the tape in the cupboard. Your character was a total catch by the way. Any others I've missed out on?"

Your conversation was flowing, and you felt real true ease between your brother's best friend and yourself. Whether it was circumstantial or genuine, you let yourself sink into an appreciation for the magnetic moment.

"Uh... a few," Gwilym spoke. "Do you like the Beatles?"

"Why were you cast as Mr. Harrison or something?" You giggled at Gwil's change of subject.

"Just wanted to make sure you weren't a fraud." Gwilym smiled, gesturing to your Sargent Pepper shirt.

"I'm no fraud!" You assured. "I love all that old rock and roll stuff." You'd scored tickets to see Ringo Starr before college kicked off. It was the best damn day of your life.

"Good. Let's have at it then, aye?" Gwil managed to uncover an aux chord from bellow the counsel and plugged it into his phone. The man reached out and cranked the radio up to the tune of Do You Want To Know A Secret. And for just a moment as you sang along, you pretended that Gwilym knew you were singing to him.

2 hours in

You stopped at the In-n-Out one hundred miles inward. Gwyilm finally got his soda and a whole lot more. The pair of you split a giant order of fries and traded burgers when you discovered you liked each other's orders better. You both thought about splitting a shake but you convinced Gwilym to get his own. He downed the sweet treat in minutes, but yours sat beading with sweat in the cup holder now. A couple of inches of the frozen drink rippled in a melted puddle as the Buick crept toward a gas station.

Gwilym stood in the heat to fill the car as you disposed of the collection of fast-food trash.

"Should I get more snacks?" You called out to Gwil from across the otherwise empty lot.

"Why don't we just agree to a nice dinner on the way home?" He shouted back. It sounded like a joke but you knew it wasn't. You went on to purchase some sunflower seeds anyway because you'd want to stash some in your car.

"Don't act like you don't want some of these." You prodded Gwils ribs as you both settled back into your brother's car. He shook his head with a grin as you tore open the packet of sunflower seeds.

"You're unbelievable. I guess I'll have a few." Gwil reached a hand out after revving the engine.

"Alright. How much was gas, while we're at it?" You gave the bag of seeds to Gwilym as you reached into your purse for your wallet.

"It's none of your business. My treat, really. Thank you for sharing." Gwil laid the bag of seeds to rest in your lap as he turned the wheel out of the gas station.

"I'll let you have that one but I'll get you back when you least expect it." You grumbled, snatching the seeds for your own again.

"Let's get back to your opinion on American football. We've got a lot to dissect here." Gwilym smirked, hands lose on the wheel, tires steady on the road. He was getting the hang of this yet!

"I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours." It was the unsexiest innuendo of all time, but with gentle prodding, Gwil had begun to easily open up to you.

///

The car dealership was just outside Vegas and your beloved mustang was roasting in the hot sun, ready to be driven back to safer grounds.

You practically fell to your knees before the mechanic who ordered special parts and offered you a discount for all your troubles.

"Just follow behind, I know the way back." You smiled to Gwilym, admiring the way the soft breeze tousled his hair. "Thanks again for this." He was really a good sport.

You had settled into your old mustang, fingers fitting into the worn-out divots in the steering wheel. But you cursed when you reached for the radio. You had really been pampered all day, in your brothers Buick, with groovy tunes and a whole lot of eye candy.

That's when your phone rang. It was Gwilym.

The desert road was wide open, but you still decided to put the call on speaker and rest the phone on your dash.

"Hello?" You laughed, checking your rearview mirror. Gwil drove your brothers Buick a safe distance behind. You swore you could see Gwilym's bright white teeth as he responded.

"Hello! I've just realized that I promised to take to dinner, but I can't very well do that with you leading the way."

"Oh, that's what this is about?" You snorted, eyeing the mountains across the horizon.

"Where shall we go?" His voice crackled from your dashboard.

"There's an exit in about forty minutes with a few suitable options. Nothing movie star worthy though." You clicked your tongue, wondering if this was all some fever dream brought on by the ninety-degree day.

"Oh stop it. Is there an IHop? I love IHop."

"You do?" You chuckled. Gwilym hummed with certainty.

"Alright." You spoke up, glancing in the rearview once more. Was he looking? "I'm sure we can track one down."

"Thanks, kid." There it was again, that pesky pet name. You didn't like it at all.

"Am I liable to call you old man?" You jabbed, making your feelings known in a light-hearted manner.

"Whoa now, I'll hang up and leave you alone with your broken radio." Gwil threatened. He remembered your telling him your radio was broken? You glanced in the rearview once more and noticed Gwilym holding up his middle finger.

"Hey!" You laughed.

"Eyes on the road!" Gwilym challenged. There were, in fact, shiny cars popcorning over the horizon.

"Alright, alright! Can you Google and drive? I'll be your eyes." You offered, driving ahead of the man.

"Hang on," Gwilym spoke. You smiled and bit your lip to withhold the burst of joy you wanted to scream out. "I've got one. I'm gonna pass you and take this adventure into my own hands if you don't mind."

You could hear Gwilym smile as his car sped up past yours in an instant.

"See ya at IHop old man!" You shouted, swiping the phone call to end before Gwilym could shout back.

Your brothers Buick zoomed past you and began to blend in with the waves of heat on the horizon. You prayed under your breath that the man leading your way wasn't just a mirage.

///

You sat across from your brother's best friend in a sticky old IHop booth while a family of six and an old married couple filled out the other corners of the restaurant. One waitress floated through the otherwise empty diner to cater to all of you as the sun set.

Gwilym ordered a tea and you warned he was going to be disappointed in the Americanized beverage. He shooed off your comment and relaxed in the booth while you sipped your coffee. You wondered how you ended up here, then you wondered how Gwilym ended up here.

"Have you really just come to town for my brother's silly party?" You suddenly quizzed. Dan threw what he called a "mixer" once every year, where all the friends he'd ever known were invited to drink bourbon and pretend it was fun being an adult. This year was a bit of a house warming party, and your whole family was invited.

"Sort of. I wanted to see him anyway and some other friends around LA." Gwilym offered, resting his head on the heel of his hand while he gazed at you.

"I see, I forgot you were a big rom-com star now." You chuckled. Of course, he was in Hollywood to mingle with other bright eyed up and comers.

But Gwilym just rolled his eyes and smiled as the waitress floated by to fill up your coffee cup.

"The last time I saw you was Easter in 2015, do you remember that?" Gwilym sat up a little, twirling his finger around the rim of his mug of tea. You tried really hard not to notice.

"I'm surprised you do. I was late to brunch and you left not long after I showed up." You recalled. That was when he hugged you goodbye, as he was leaving and you were just joining the rest of your family. He lingered around the dining table to finish some conversation with your father, but you don't remember him leaving.

"'Course I remember. You poured something from a flask into your coffee when your mum wasn't looking." Gwil gestured toward your warm cup and you winced in remembrance.

"Those were the days, huh?" You furrowed your brow even though you smiled, a little sick at the thought of drinking anything.

"They aren't anymore?" Gwil seemed to gently pry, and you weren't about to lie to him.

"No, I learned my lesson in the hospital." You shrugged, hoping to never stay that long on an IV drip ever again.

"What?" Gwilym asked. He seemed genuinely concerned and you hadn't realized he didn't know. Dan would usually warn anyone to keep an eye out on you in case you keeled over like you always used to morning noon and night.

"Yeah, I drank myself silly." You laughed, but it wasn't silly at all. That month was shit. "I haven't drank since January."

"Christ." Gwil shot his wide eyes toward you.

"It's a good thing! I like coffee much more, anyway."

"Than this," Gwil gestured around the eatery, "was the perfect choice."

Gwilym's smile was ultraviolet. You admired him in a way you might have anyone else, but the longer you took in his features, they became prettier by the second. You caught yourself staring, but that was usually the case. What caught you further off guard was the way Gwilym seemed to be just as in tune to your conversation as you were. LIke he really wanted to right here, in the middle of nowhere, with his best friend's kid sister.

He was too good to be true. Why had it taken you so long to realize?

///

That same night, you drove your friends back to your flat to the tune of their incessant teasing. You guessed you'd be shocked if Colin Firth showed up to crash your spontaneous slumber party, after watching Love Actually. So, you couldn't blame them, but you could block them out. You found your mind wandering to the weekend. You found yourself thinking of Gwilym.

Your brother's annual gala was three days later. Your parents swung by your flat and gave you a lift all the way across one town to the next so you could all attend your brother's first party in his new home.

You wore torn up mom jeans and a decent blouse, unbothered by most of the guests sporting their finest black-tie looks, like this was the waiting block for Mad Men auditions or something. Everyone was drinking and the smell alone made your blood curdle. You slinked through plastic Hollywood types and decided you didn't need to drink to have fun, or waste your time mingling.

You wound up in the posh den, in a leather recliner, directing your brother's dogs to do tricks. You got Vinny to start barking at his reflection in the flat screen tv , much to the annoyance of the passing guests. But someone was charmed by your antics. Gwyilm leaned against the door frame with a now-familiar smile.

"Vinny, look!" You pointed to the flatscreen while the giant dog spun around to start whining. Gwilym laughed at you, and you whipped your head to find him watching on, drink in hand.

"Are you having a good time?" Gwilym comically quizzed, scooting further into the room. He sat on the arm of the chair you occupied, holding his glass between his legs. You looked up at the British hunk and smiled.

"We are. Violet just learned to shake hands!" You quipped. The dog bounced over at the sound of her name and sat in front of you, ready to show off her new skills.

"Nice to meet you, lady." You teased, holding your palm in front of your brother's dog. Violet raised her paw into your hand and you smiled as you shook it.

"Well before we call the circus and send you off, you better say goodbye to your family. Your mum's been looking for you." Gwilym laughed, shaking his head as he sipped something dark.

God, how embarrassing. Did she send him to find you? Did she think you were passed out in the bushes or worse? With a pursed smile you stood and left the den to find your mother lounging in the living room with a few other, older guests.

"Oh, this is my youngest, Y/N. A very bright girl." Your mother gushed, grabbing on to your writs and pulling you toward the sofa as some middle-aged blonde lady smiled widely at you. Her name was Dawn and she was busy trying to one-up your mother in housewife points. You just gave a fake grin and spun around to find your father asking about your car troubles.

"It's all fixed and fine now." You assured. Dan appeared on the scene, boasting about how his friend Gwilym was kind enough to take you on that trip. Gwil was sitting back on the sofa, smiling at your father as Dan boosted his ego. But he deserved the praise.

"Gwil practically saved my life!" You pointed, spinning toward where the man was settled onto the love seat. In your classic dramatic flare, you flung yourself into Gwilym's lap without thinking. The time you'd spent with the man had stripped away the layer if unfamiliarity between the two of you. And you would have plopped into anyone of your friend's laps. You made sure to bring your hand to your forehead to ensure your swooning was just for show. Even if you happened to feel a swoop of endearment at the prospect of being so close to Gwil. He was stunning. And his fingers were cautiously hovering around you, as if he wanted to hold you but knew better. And as you scooted out of the man's lap toward the cushion beside him, you swore you saw a hunger in his sea-blue eyes.

"Alright, leave the acting to him, you're no good." Daniel batted your hair on his way across the room at the sound of his name being called.

Moments after you peeled yourself off of Gwilym Lee's lap, your sister showed up. You hadn't seen Roxanne in what felt like ages. On her arm, an unassuming botanist called Max, who seemed to be totally head over heels for your older sister. Boy was he in for a treat.

"Hello, Roxy." Gwilym smiled, resting his glass on the coffee table as he stood to greet your sister. And just like that, the usually demure girl practically melted. You couldn't blame her, not anymore. Not after you caught a glimpse at how warm Gwil's smile really was.

"This, uh, this is Max." Roxanne shoved her boyfriend between herself and Gwilym, a human shield. The equally as meek fellow seemed to look up to Gwilym with wonder in his eye. You realized that no one was safe from doing a double-take. Gwilym was just that great.

The party fizzled out. Before the last guests even left, Roxanne kissed her beau and skipped out to the pool house with you, deciding to spend the night for some much-needed one on one time. You stole some of Daniel's sweatshirts and snacks from your brother's home and locked yourselves into the private little hut in his back yard.

After nearly a full hour of listening to your sister gush over how much she liked Max and how their relationship was taking off, Roxanne got quiet.

"I didn't realize Gwil was in town." Roxanne sheepishly admitted, reaching to the bowl of popcorn between the two of you.

"Yeah, I was surprised too." You realized. "I can't believe you still have a thing for him."

Roxanne laughed and shook her head as if that was all behind her now. But then she bit her lip and looked at you to tell her secret.

"No harm in looking, right?" She shrugged. Roxanne really did seem happy with her new boyfriend. But anyone with eyes could see Gwilym's glow and would probably long to bask in it all the same. You weren't blind to that any longer.

///

Emma and Francine were busy sitting around your apartment doing nothing, terribly bored of it all. Tilly had gone back to visit her family while the summer raged on, leaving the three of you to your own usual devices. Your brother had asked you to stay a little while longer, but he and Gwil took the dogs to a hiking trail and you got bored alone in the pool house after your sister went home. So you drove back to your flat where your roommates decided to waste away together.

"There's nothing good on tv. And I don't wanna go out. Why is nothing fun anymore?" You complained. The days of dancing the night away seemed like a waste of time to you now. There had been lots of fun last year, and the ones before. Maybe too much fun. When you weren't drinking you were asleep in someone else's bed. Casual dating turned into some kind of game. And it all started when Francine challenged you to get with as many people as you could take a shot for. And naturally, you were down to take the drinking challenge, but you took way too many shots that night. And you started zipping through one night stands like it was your job and you needed extra rent. You felt nothing, numbed by so many drinks. And near the end of your manic episode, you thought that maybe the more people you shagged, you'd eventually feel for one of them. But that never happened. Even when you brought some of them home and tried to mold them into a little perfect box.

You had a lot of time to reevaluate in the hospital. You hoped with your new lease on life that meaning would seep back through your cracks. But sitting around your old dusty apartment bored you. Wasn't there any balance anymore? Your phone buzzed you out of deep thought.

Gwil: How'd you get Violet to shake your hand? She won't listen to me or Dan!

You: I'm a dog whisperer. ;)

"We could do arts and crafts!" Emma chirped like a hopeful preschooler.

"It's too hot to think of having fun." Francine moaned, sprawled across the sofa with her upper half sliding down toward the floor.

Your phone buzzed again. Gwilym responded with the meme of the angry-looking cat sitting at the dinner table. You let out a breathy laugh that fanned through your nose. Before you could think of responding Gwilym had sent another text.

Gwil: I'll find out your secret one day.

You: Take a hike!

He should have been trekking through scenic California mountains instead of sending you memes.

"Earth to Y/N! Why are you smiling at your phone like that when we're in the middle of a boredom crisis meeting?"

"What?" You blanched. Had you really been lost in the short-lived conversation between Gwilym and yourself? He was just too good to be true. Of course, you were transfixed by the lad.

"Yeah, who are you talking to? Is Stu back from Ibiza? Are you two hooking up again?" Francine challenged, sitting up on the sofa with a knowing grin.

"God no, not Stu. He stole my underwear. That fucking creep." You shivered at the memory of your very last and longest hookup. Emma grimaced in response, but Francine, like always, wasn't satisfied.

"So who is it then?" The girl's honey-brown eyes filled with mischief as she reached for your phone.

"Why do you think it has to be anybody?" You whined, trying to lean further back before Francine could launch her self toward you. But it was too late, she latched onto your cell like a falcon, and scanned the screen. Her lips turned into a wild smile while Emma turned her head in anticipation.

"It's Ned!" Francine let out a burst of laughter as you dove back toward her to rescue your stolen device.

"Ned from the movie?" Emma questioned.

"What other Ned's do you know, Emma?" Francine rang, allowing you to take back your phone.

"The dad from the Try Guys." Emma shrugged. You would have laughed if you didn't feel your stomach fall away. What was there to be so nervous about?

"Why is movie star Ned sending you memes? How do you even know him, again?" Francine sat straight up against some throw pillows to begin her interrogation.

"When Daniel moved to London for college, he and Gwilym became the best of friends." You sighed, reminding Francine of the name of the man she kept referring to.

"He sent you a meme, Y/N." Francine rose her brows like she was alluding to something more.

"After he drove you across the desert and back," Emma added, pointing your way.

"Yeah, I guess he's my friend too." You gapped. Well he was, wasn't he? Your phone buzzed again and everyone's eyes filled with curiosity as you kept your phone clutched to your chest.

"He's also a movie star!" Francine rang.

"Just because he was in some Australian rom-com doesn't mean anything-"

"What other movies has he been in? Maybe he's loaded and you guys can be Hollywoods new it couple." Emma cooed like she was dreaming for herself.

"I don't know- the last time I saw Gwil was years ago I hardly think-"

"Babe. I can tell you're into him so do away with excuses!" Francine leaned over the sofa to rest a hand on your knee.

"Guys, I'm just now really getting to know him..." You reasoned, trying like mad to pretend his gloriously pretty face wasn't always on your mind.

"He's hot. I'm talking mega beautiful. I don't blame you. And he basically already took you on a date." Francine remained trying to get you to crack.

"Uh, guys..." Emma was fixated on her phone screen when you and Francine whipped your heads toward the girl. She began to squeal through her teeth as she bolted from the pull out bed and skipped toward the coffee table to snatch the remote.

"What are you doing, Emma?" You asked but it sounded more like a warning. She only giggled as the tv buzzed to life. After a quick search on your shared Amazon account, a film from last year started to play.

"Are you trying to tell us that Gwilym is in Bohemian Rhapsody? Wasn't that nominated for a bunch of awards?" Francine focused on Emma who was staring at the screen in anticipation.

"Oh my God." You sighed. Not only did were you turned off by the thrill of seeing Gwil on screen, you felt horrible for not knowing your brother's best friend was in a damn blockbuster. Had you really been so far gone in party land that you were that blinded to the world around you? Francine picked up on your unease and tried to talk you into the spirit.

"He's probably just in the background for a second. But we have to watch it, so, Let's just get it over with."

Emma let out a nervous giggle as an actor opened his eyes on the screen. You literally held your breath while the film crept through the introduction. And then you saw him. Dawning a curly black wig and a smile that belonged to someone else.

"Oh no." You groaned at the exact moment Francine let out an excitable laugh.

"Your boyfriend is Brian May!" She squealed. Gwilym wasn't your boyfriend, but he was nearly identical to the guitarist of Queen. You loved their music. You loved their story. But you had totally missed the posters and promotions for the film that featured Gwil's name in lights. You decided then and there that you would never drink again. You and your friends watched the rest of the film in total rapture. Emma decided the blonde playing Roger was the new love of her life. Francine started to cry when the lad playing Freddie walked out of the doctor's office. You held her hand as the band kicked off Live Aid and when the credits rolled, Emma hit mute and you three stared at each other for a beat, lost for words.

"I sort of forgot all about Ned. He's a proper actor, isn't he?" Francine looked to you like she'd just seen a ghost. You could only muster a stunned nod of exact agreement.

"I just remembered something... my sister in law saw this in theaters like four times. She's totally obsessed with it. Let's call her!" Emma reached across the pull out bed to claim her cell phone before you could stop her.

"No, Emma this is ridiculous! It's not like I don't know Gwil." You reasoned.

"You just said that you were just getting to know him. And trust me when I say that no one knows an actor better than the fandom." Francine lifted her brow as if to prove a point. The girl was still obsessed with Supernatural, and would spout off info about the actors she kept up learning online. But it was all hearsay, wasn't it?

"That's insanely untrue, just so you know." You nodded to Francine, hoping to coax her out of that toxic mindset. The phone was ringing through Emma's speaker and before anyone could day more, someone answered.

"Susan! What do you know about Gwilym Lee?" Emma giggled, resting her phone on the bed with her speaker's volume all the way up. You buried your head in your hands as Francine wrapped an encouraging arm around your shoulder.

"You mean Brian May's clone?" Susan the sister in law crackled through the cell phone. She wasn't wrong. Halfway through the film, you'd nearly forgotten the real members of Queen weren't actually there.

"Is that a compliment? I mean really tell me about this guy. Sell him to me." Emma bargained, propping herself up on her elbows and kicking her feet behind her.

"Okay..." The girl on the phone breathed and suspense built up in your stomach while you waited for a stranger to list of facts about your brother's best friend. "Gwilym is perfect for starters. He's into sports and he's totally obsessed with his castmates. They still see each other all the time. Gwil seems totally devoted and passionate. Rumor has it he's engaged. The good ones are always taken."

You suddenly felt like a ghost of your former giddy self. Why should you have felt so sick? So what if he was engaged? He was just your friend. But friends were supposed to tell each other these sorts of things, weren't they?

"Engaged?" Emma squealed, practically causing the silky pull out bed to ripple from her risen octave.

"Well, it's just a rumor. There are no pictures of a ring or a girl or anything. But where there's smoke there's fire. Anyway, can I tell you about the rest of the cast?"

Francine sat up beside you, casting fiery eyes into yours as she reached for her phone to begin investigating for herself.

"No, I've gotta go." Emma hung up with no explanation, flinging her legs over the edge of the rickety couch bed.

"She's right, there's no evidence." Francine rang, turning her phone to me with a slim Google result list.

"Not to be a downer but I feel like there's gotta be something going on, right?" Emma glanced at you with big sad eyes.

"I- I don't know. Maybe he is? He's talked for ages about his family. Never said a word about a girl."

"That's because he's into you and he's on a great American fling. If there's a girl he's not going to say so." Francine reasoned. She was right. She had to be. Gwilym was too beautiful and endearing to have been single. You were just a good flirt.

I can't get no satisfaction, I can't get no satisfaction... 'cause I try and I...

Your phone was ringing. And your friend's eyes were glued to your every move. You were only a little shocked to find Gwilym's name flickering across your dim screen now. But as you snatched the phone to answer you felt your chest tighten between a rope of anxious nerves.

"Hi, Gwil." You tried to sound nonchalant as you stood up and pointed a warning finger to your friends. But they, of course, couldn't be expected to hold back their bursts of excitable chirps.

"Hi-"

"Hang on!" You warned, making a break for your bedroom. There was little hope your friends would settle their giggles because as they chased after you to beg to eavesdrop, they were squealing far too loudly. After dramatically flinging yourself behind your locked bedroom door you answered the phone once more.

"Okay! Hi!" You sighed, trying desperately to even out your breathing.

"Is this a bad time?" Gwilym quizzed over the phone. You cast your eyes across your well-kept room with a smile.

"No! Just... what's up?" You wondered in turn. No time was a bad time for Gwilym.

"Alright." The man let out a chuckle before continuing. "Well, this might be a stretch, but here it goes. I was going to bring Dan with me to a premier tomorrow. He had to cancel last minute for work, yet again. I've already got a plus one, so, would you like to come with me?"

"I'm second best, huh?" You laughed, stepping further into the room, past a stack of books around the corner.

"Well, first if you think about it! Dan called dibs, but I... well I called you."

Oh dear. You had to remind yourself to breathe as Gwilym went on to say,

"I think you'd get on well with my mates is all, and you seemed to have a free week. Asking seemed worth a shot."

"I see." You bit your lip. Was he really being as forward as he sounded? Was he really engaged? "Well, I'd love a night out. Only if you're sure though."

"Oh, I'm sure. Come round Dan's by seven?" You could hear him smile.

"Okay." You agreed while still holding your breath. "See you soon, Gwil."

What do I wear?

[mobius-prime]

159. Sonic Super Special #15

Welcome to the final Sonic Super Special ever! Here's my opinion on it. Past Super Specials have ranged from okay to amazing, depending on the writer and the subject matter, and their long length has usually, if you ask me, worked in their favor, as it meant more time and space to tell a compelling story. This is not true of this one. Unfortunately, the last super special of the comic is utterly awful, with two stories that do absolutely nothing to grip my attention, one of which ends in a status quo with a net gain of absolutely nothing, and the other of which is cringeworthy and isn't even very clear on when, where or how it takes place. Let's just get this over with, shall we?

Naugus Games

Writer: Ken Penders Pencils: Many Hands Colors: Josh and Aimeee Ray

This first story is far, far longer than it has any right to be - it really feels like they were trying to find ways to pad it out it to take up the full 48 pages of the special. Furthermore, you might notice some oddities about the credits above. First of all, Aimee's name is misspelled with three E's for both stories for some reason, indicating some lazy copy-and-pasting as well as a lack of care from the editors. Even more frustratingly, no one is actually credited directly for the pencils (or inks), with the art instead just being credited to "many hands." Remember how I said the comic was getting annoyingly bad about properly crediting people? Now, in case you're confused, there's not just some artist out there literally named Many Hands; instead, that's the comic's way of sidestepping actually bothering to credit any individuals for their work. It just means "eh, a lot of people worked on this I guess, but we don't care enough to actually tell you who." Unfortunately, unlike a few issues ago where the art style was immediately recognizable as Steven Butler's, the art style for this story is foreign to me, suggesting they got some people who weren't their usual artists to work on this one, so I can't even take an educated guess here. All I know is that both the art style in general and the quality of the inks are very poor, and as we'll see, the art gets unforgivably lazy at times. Perhaps best of all, this story was later retconned into a much more interesting and concise version of itself at a later date, with better storytelling and artwork to boot. The only reason, then, that I'm covering it at all, is honestly as a demonstration of just how lazy the comic could get at times, as well as due to the fact that this is the first appearance of "Many Hands," who later pencilled one other issue for the comic that was of equally poor quality.

So this story takes place at an unspecified time in the recent past. It seems to be sometime after Eggman's return, judging by some of the lines of dialogue within the story, but the actual timeframe is pretty vague. Sonic has returned to the Southern Tundra to pay his respects to Eddy, recalling how Eddy sacrificed himself when he, Tails, and Nate all fought Naugus here some time ago. He's brought a single rose to lay on the site of the wreckage, but the ground isn't quite stable…

And here we have the first instance of a truly terrible art decision. Sonic falls into a pitch black cave system, but instead of representing this with maybe one page max of blackness or darker lighting, we're treated to nearly four pages straight of nothing but this:

He blindly stumbles around for a while, informing us of this fact through dialogue bubbles because everyone knows that telling is better than showing in fiction, right? He finally hits a wall and sees a glow through a crack in it, so he tunnels his way into the next room only to find it full of glowing rings - apparently, either he, Tails and Naugus somehow didn't use up all the rings when they fought, or these one have just auto-generated themselves somehow down here. Sonic recalls memories of the previous battle when Nate sealed Naugus away with a wish from a ring, and then decides to try to use one to get out of the cave system.

Wonderful! Apparently, a "wish" as defined by the magic of the rings just means that you think of someone's name while touching a ring, and so with a flash, Naugus is back from his imprisonment in the zone that Nate sealed him into! But how is this possible?

That explanation makes… basically no sense, dude. Naugus was definitely sealed away in another zone, he didn't just get turned into a pile of telepathic rings. But whatever. He and Sonic start battling it out, and somehow make it outside, where Naugus conjures up a snowstorm that consistently stays centered on Sonic no matter where he runs. Time for the second awful art choice of the issue - now instead of four pages of pure blackness, we get six whole pages of this:

I think the best thing about this is that the blizzard backgrounds are clearly not even hand drawn like the rest of the comic is - there's only two types of snowflakes up there, and they're consistently just copied and pasted in that same repetitive swirl pattern on every single page. I get that drawing for a big story in a super special like this can be long and tedious work, but this is why you don't try to find a way to artificially elongate a story like this which could easily be told in the span of a normal issue length. It just ends up making the audience feel like their time is being wasted. Anyway, the blizzard finally ends when Sonic pulls out a ring from his jacket and wishes for Naugus to be sealed away in his previous zone once more, and thus, Naugus is out of our hair again, with absolutely nothing to show for it. Man, if it's this easy to defeat people in this universe, why hasn't anyone tried this on Eggman yet?

Sonic then leaves back for home, thinking one last time of Eddy, who is shown looking down on him from the heavens above. And thank god that story is over.

Sonic Spin City

Writer/Pencils: Michael Gallagher Colors: Josh and Aimeee Ray

Michael Gallagher, over the course of the comics, has gone from one of the series' main writers to basically a guest writer who's brought on every once in a while for special occasions. In this case, he even makes his return as a penciller! Unfortunately, his goofy writing style has begun to clash with the much more serious plots of these later issues, and this story is no exception. It's entirely unclear about whether we're supposed to take this story as actual canon, as a story from an alternate zone, or as just a silly joke story that doesn’t mean anything - and while I tend to try to avoid looking at non-canon materials in this review series (I've already skipped a few stories and issues for exactly this reason), the ambiguity of this one forces me to cover it. In addition, I don't even know why Josh and "Aimeee" were credited as colorists for this story, considering the entire thing is black and white with no color to be found.

Much like the first story of StH#52, this story has the flair of an old detective serial. Sonic is wandering the streets on a rainy night when two swatbots ambush him. Of course, two swatbots are no match.

What does a swatbot need matches for? Eh, whatever. Sonic races over to Rusty's, a hangout for abandoned badniks, and orders himself a "chili dog float," which in addition to sounding absolutely disgusting doesn't even seem like something a bar for robots would serve in the first place. As he takes his seat, the lights go out, and… this abomination emerges onto the stage.

Yes. The badniks are going wild for a swatbot with tits dancing seductively on a stage for them. What is she gonna do, plug them into a wall outlet? They even start screaming out for "the stretch," and appear to get even hornier as she massively elongates her legs for them. I mean, just, what? I swear, Michael, if we get one more weird borderline-sex thing like this from you in this comic, my eyes are gonna pop out of my head like Natsuki. A bot grabs the dancer's ankle, and she's thrown off balance and crashes down, with the head popping off to reveal that underneath, it's Bunnie in disguise.

You know, after her claim all those issues back that she's a "sax cymbal," I'm not even gonna contest the idea that she'd do a sexy dance during infiltration for a mission. Hell, I get the impression she'd do one anyway just for fun back in Knothole if she got the chance. You might also notice her arm is the arm from her old design, and that coupled with Sonic's own design seems to indicate that if this took place at all in actual canon, it was before Eggman's return, though I'm immensely skeptical that this is supposed to be canon at all. Sonic and Bunnie take out the rest of Rusty's customer base, and then evacuate before the last swatbot activates its self-destruct chip, blowing the place sky high. Congratulations, nothing important was accomplished in this issue and nobody cares!

It's kinda sad that the final Sonic Super Special turned out to be so low-quality, honestly. However, this marks a bit of a turning point in the comic. For the first time in its entire run, from now on, there are no more special issues, no sister series, no miniseries, nothing. From the next issue, all the way to almost the 200th, with one exception in the form of a Free Comic Book Day issue, there are absolutely no interruptions from issue to issue. While this may not seem too notable at first, since we've just been reading everything in mostly-chronological order anyway, keep in mind that as far as the comic is concerned we're still in the year 2000, with a mere seven years having passed from the beginning of the comic all the way to now over the course of 159 issues. Over the course of the next 106 issues, we're going to blaze through nine years of comic history, meaning that the story is going to flow a lot faster, with more plot points being covered in a shorter amount of time. While this does make the order of issues a lot easier to follow, since there's no questions about which issue fits in where or anything, I am sad to see all the special issues go, as I quite enjoyed how they served to break up the flow of the comic as a whole with special stories and side content. Though we're still in the middle of our current plot era, we're entering into a new era of the comic as a whole, where we've got a straight shot through the next hundred issues. So I say - let's do it to it!

[julia-highstorms]

Moving Day (Tom x MC) - NS*W

Summary: With Pine Springs finally free from its shady cultists business and supernatural stuff, it’s time for Tomoichi Sato to leave the small town and look forward to the future. But first, he’ll get some help with moving day.

Author’s note: this fanfic will probably be an AU but which of my fanfics aren’t? Lol because I’m a sucker for happy endings, okay?! and Grandpa is a good fella here

Disclaimer: Characters belong to Pixelberry Studios.

Rating: +18 (NSFW - if you don't want to be tagged in this kind of content, please, let me know!)

Pairing: Tom x MC (Julia Vance)

Word count: 3203

Summer is almost over.

Those frickin’ cultists are defeated, there are no more creepy ass monsters around town and Tomoichi Sato finally feels like he’s ready to go back to live his ordinary and uneventful life. And he actually is looking forward to it.

After that thing happened in Westchester years ago, the boy just couldn’t go on living with his life knowing about all those weird stuff. But now, after everything, he’s feeling more than ready to go back to school. He’s even excited about his calculus classes!

And the best part is that he’s going to study at the same university as Andy Kang, his best friend. They’ve been living apart over a year and, although they talked to each other almost daily, it wasn’t the same thing, and he missed his bro. But now he’ll get to see him so much more often now, since they’ll be roommates!

Oh man, he’s really excited about it.

But first, Tom has to pack his things up before he leaves Pine Springs.

Ugh.

At least he’ll have some help…

The bell rings and Tom opens the door of his tiny studio apartment.

Clever dark eyes, short black hair, and a half smirk on her rosy lips.

“Hey.” - his heart takes a leap like it does every time he sees her, since the very first time he saw her.

“Hey. Will you let me in or what?”

“Oh! Uh, sure!” - he quickly steps aside, giving her space.

“Wow, this place is tiny!” - Julia states as she enters the micro-apartment, taking a look around her.

“Yeah… it was the only thing I could afford to rent…” - Tom murmurs, ducking his head, embarrassed.

“It’s cozy. I like it.” - she says with a sly grin that makes Tom’s cheeks get a shade pinker and she lets out a laugh. - “Okay, I came here to help you pack your things. What do you want me to do?” - she asks, rolling up the sleeves of her band t-shirt.

“To be honest I won’t need much help. The apartment came with all the furniture included, I just need to pack my stuff.”

“Which is?”

“You know, my clothes, my books, games… this kind of stuff. Uh, to be honest I could have done it by myself… you didn’t have to have all this trouble to come here…”

“Hey, it’s no trouble at all.” - she takes a step closer and cups his warm face on her hands. - “I was the one who offered to come help you in the first place, remember?” - he nods. - “And I want to spend every minute we can together...” - Julia confesses, now her face flushing slightly.

“Me too.” - Tom smiles warmly at her and she forces herself to pull back before she makes the stupidity of kissing him. Because, once she starts it, she won’t be able to stop.

“Okay, so let’s begin! Where do I start?”

“I’ve already started folding my clothes...you can put them in the bag.”

“Aye, captain.” - they start working together in a comfortable silence, just enjoying the company of one another. - “So… are you excited to go back to college?”

“Yeah, actually.” - a small smile tugs on his lips. - “Now that all that mess is over, I finally feel that I can move forward with my life. I actually miss my calculus classes.” - they share a laugh.

“I’m glad you’re excited for school, Tom. I mean it. Even though I’d prefer if you transferred to Hartfeld so we could be closer…” - her voice lowers and she takes a step closer to him, their faces just inches from one another now. His cheeks immediately gets a shade pinker and the girl chuckles mischievously. She loves teasing him. - “I’m just kidding. You’ll be close to Andy again, right?”

“We’ll actually be living together. We’re going to be roommates!” - he beans animatedly. - “I miss having my best friend around. We have a lot to catch up.”

Julia smiles at him and they finish with the folding clothes duty. - “Okay… now onto the geek stuff. Do you prefer games or comics?”

“Uh. Comics. I’ve already noticed how protective you are about your video games.” - it was very exhausting persuading Tom to lend his games to Elliot for just one night. She wasn’t going any near it.

“Heh, you’re not wrong there. Okay, my books and comics are in that bookshelf.”

“Alright. Uh, will I find any manga for pervs in there?”

“Of course not!” - Tom screams, his ears and cheeks turning bright red instantly.

“Relax, I’m just teasing you!” - he rolls his eyes to his laughing girlfriend. - “Do you want me to put them in order?”

“Yeah, that would be nice...”

“By year? Title? Author? Number? Genre? Collector edition? Since you’re oh so touchy about your things!” - she keeps teasing him, who can’t hide back a grin.

“Just on numerical order is enough, you goof.” - he chuckles and Julia walks away to pick them. His gaze follows her, his heart floating a bit inside his chest again. Tom always have this fuzzy feeling when he’s near her.

He’ll miss seeing her so often. His girlfriend.

Who would have guessed that Tomoichi Sato would someday have a girlfriend? And so wholesome like Julia Vance? He certainly didn’t.

“Anyway, what about you?” - he asks casually, returning his attention to his games. He opens each box to see if they’re in there, on their assigned place. - “Excited to go back to college?”

“A bit, yeah. Gotta start my final thesis. I’m both excited and terrified by it.”

“I can’t believe a final thesis scares you more than a bunch of creepy ass monsters.”

“Hey, this is important, okay? I don’t want to mess it up and you know I’m not exactly the scholar type.”

“Yeah, you’re more like the kicking ass type.” - she agrees with him. - “But I know you’ll nail it. You always nail everything, Julia.”

“You have too much faith in me.”

“Hey, if I’m not going to be the most supportive boyfriend ever, then what’s the point?” - she smiles gratefully to him. - “What about Elliot? Is he going to stay here with Arthur?”

“Yeah. He grew to love Pine Springs. Of course, having his first serious crush around helps.” - Julia grins to herself, thinking about her baby brother and Robbie. - “I’ve already been used to not live with him since I entered college, so it’s not that dramatic change. He’s just living further away now and it’ll be a boomer that I won’t get to tease him about his first relationship as much as I’d like to.”

“You’re insufferable.” - Tom chuckles, his games already in his backpack.

“I am.” - Julia looks up to him when he stops next to her, helping her pick up his comics and mangas from the bookshelf. She has a small grin on her face. - “But I have two very good reasons to come back to Oregon more often now: Elliot and you.”

Tom grins back at her and before he knows it, she suddenly stands on her toes and pulls him in, kissing him fiercely.

To hell with packing things up. She wants him now.

He groans when his back hits the bookshelf behind him, as the girl clings her petite figure into his. She smiles against his lips when she feels one of his hands burying in her hair, as his other arm wraps around her waist, bringing her closer to him, until they can both feel every inch of each other’s body against their own. His mouth kisses her back hungrily, and she can feel his arousal pressing hard on her thigh.

“...When are you leaving?” - Julia asks, breathless from all that make out session.

“The last bus to Westchester leaves at 6 p.m.”

“Oh, then we have plenty of time.” - she wiggles her eyebrows suggestively, making the boy laugh.

“I still have to finish packing my things, Julia.” - he points his head to his opened and half filled bag on the floor.

“Pfff, putting everything inside your bag will take us 15 minutes max. Besides, we did it in a photo booth. I guess we can handle finishing packing your things, moving you out of here and still having time for proper sex just fine. Not in this exact order, because I want you now. And I guess you’re up to it too.” - she smiles devilishly as he groans when he feels one of her hands inside his pants, exploring his length.

“Julia…” - Tom murmurs with a warning tone in his voice, his breath quickening as she keeps with those moves.

“We deserve it, Tom. I don’t know when I’ll see you again and we had just a quickie. I want more.” - she purrs as her kisses descend to his earlobe, chin, neck, her hand still keeping with those maddening movements, making the boy gasp and his excitement grow even harder. - “I want you to have a wonderful memory of your last day here. And of myself.”

“All of my memories of you are wonderful.” - he stops short. - “Jeez, this sounded so cheesy.”

His girlfriend laughs loudly before pulling him in for another passionate and demanding kiss. Tom kisses her back, hard, pushing her backwards until the girl feels the cold wall behind her, as he pins her there with his weight. She notices that he already is as hard as a rock. Her heart immediately flips inside her chest, excited, and she puts her hands on the hem of his t-shirt, ready to take it off.

“You know… there’s a bed right there.” - he murmurs, chuckling.

“Oh yeah, what I was thinking?” - she giggles mischievously, before striping the boy from his t-shirt and practically shoving him into the bed, climbing on top of him.

Julia lets out a surprised squeal when Tom suddenly rolls, changing their positions, so he ends up being on top of her.

“You took the lead last time. I’d like to take the lead this time.” - he says, with a sheepish grin on his face just inches from her as he bends over her. - “Uh, though you’ll need to guide me.”

“It’d be my pleasure. Literally.” - Tom chuckles.

“This was just terrible.”

“But I know you loved it.”

“Yeah… I did.” - he leans in and kisses her softly, straddling the girl down on the bed.

“You know…” - they stop kissing for a quick second, so he can take his glasses off and put it on somewhere safe, like the bedside table. She cups his face between her hands, gazing deeply into his eyes, admiring his face.

“What?” - he asks, his cheeks getting hotter under her soft hands.

“...Watching you beating all those monsters asses and facing those cultists bastards was such a turn on.”

“I thought you were always turned on by the simple sight of me.” - she rolls her eyes but chuckles.

“Can’t argue with that.” - Julia’s face gets serious.

"What?"

“I was so scared I had lost you, Tom.” - her voice is barely a whisper.

Although they haven't known each other for long, Tom knows his girlfriend well enough to know that she hates showing weakness. So the moments that she lets herself show vulnerability are special. Meaningful.

And Julia Vance only shows it to him.

He gives her a reassuring smile.

“Hey… it’ll take more than just a bunch of cultists, monsters and a frickin’ lake ghost to defeat Tomoichi Sato. Plus, I got a pretty awesome scar from it.” - he says, pointing to the cut on his neck, now completely healed.

She laughs loudly to his stupid smirk. It's cheesy, but he would hear her laughter for all eternity and never get tired of it.

Oh god, when did he start becoming so sappy?

“I see that you have finally admitted that you’re a badass.”

“Yeah… thanks to my badass girlfriend.” - he leans in and kisses her so sweetly the girl feels like melting.

“Hmm, is this how we are going to be called now? A couple of badasses?”

“I like it.” - his thumb runs along her soft lips. - “I love you.” - he murmurs and

Julia opens up a grin so wide and radiant that leaves the boy breathless. He’s always breathless around her, actually.

“I love you too, Tom.” - she pulls him to her, their lips meeting again easily. The kiss gets heated and they both frantically take off their clothes, not wanting to lose any other second.

Tom gasps slightly when the girl takes off her bra, throwing it away somewhere in the small apartment.

“What?” - she asks when she notices her paralysed boyfriend in front of her.

“Jeez, you’re so…” - he murmurs, his cheeks getting redder and redder as he drinks on the sight of her.

“You know you’re allowed to touch me, right?” - a playful smirk dances on her lips as she rests on her elbows.

His shy and warm hands find her breasts, that are just the perfect size. They’re soft and highly sensitive as the boy notices, as her breath quickens and her nipples get instantly hard by his touch.

He leans in and a shiver travels through her body as Tom leaves kisses on her neck, making the heat between her legs radiate even more. She gently takes one of his hands and moves it lower and lower on her body…

“Oh god…” - he murmurs as he feels her heat, wetness and tightness around his fingers. She moans his name as she shows him how to touch and caress her.

He watches in amusement as color fills her cheeks, her breath quickening and her body tensing, as he slightly speeds up the massage on her sensitive nub.

“Do you like this…?” - he asks and all she can do is answer with unintelligible whimpers, trembling under his touch, her hips following his movements, her hands gripping tightly on the bed sheets beneath her.

“Y-yeah…” - she whimpers, her dark shining eyes finding his. - “I want you, Tom… Now.” - she practically orders.

“Not yet…” - he murmurs back, sliding another finger inside, stretching her and intensifying his massage until her body is shaking and she has to cling onto him, moaning deliriously into his ear. He loves knowing that he's capable of doing it to her. And just with his hand! - "Are you okay?" - he asks when she burst out in giggles.

"Yeah… I'm sorry, I know I can be a bit… loud." - Julia says, feeling that tingling sensation all over her body, while she recovers from her orgasm.

"Don't apologise. I love hearing you." - her boyfriend pecks her forehead. - "It's sexy."

"Yeah?" - she asks. not so sure about it. - "I sound like a pig for slaughter." - he laughs loudly.

"A sexy pig, then? Jeez, this sounds so wrong." - it's her turn to laugh.

"Hey… how about we stop with this super awkward chat and go back to what we were doing?" - she suggests, burying her hands on his hair, and pulling him closer.

The boy smirks at her.

"Great idea."

They resume kissing until they both feel the air around them hot and heavy again. Tom quickly finds a condom in his bedside table drawer and Julia helps him put it on, before laying on her back again as he positions himself between her legs.

The both moan when he finally enters her. He brings his hips closer against hers, filling her wholly, watching the girl bite her own lip to prevent her from screaming. After they both have adjusted to the sensation of their bodies connected, he starts moving, too torturously slowly for her.

“Faster, Tom…” - she orders, her legs lacing tighter around his hips.

He obeys, thrusting faster in her, going harder and deeper, his erratic movements making her moan louder and louder, practically crying out his name, and him whimper.

But before they both lose their minds, he moves slower again, watching how her body responds to his.

Now that they’re finally alone and in private, they can take their time not worrying about anything else, but just focusing on one another, their hands roaming up and down, exploring each other’s body, experimenting different paces, learning about what brings the most pleasure to each and both of them.

“Tom…” - there’s something about the way that she calls his name that drives him crazy and he can’t help but move his hips faster, making the girl gasp in pleasure beneath him, until her body is twitching underneath him, her nails digging on the skin of his back and her walls tightening around him, making him moan into her ear, bringing her even closer to the edge.

And then, waves of pleasure overcomes them both.

Julia slowly opens her eyes, with Tom still on top of her, a layer of sweat all over their bodies, their breath and heartbeat slowing down.

“Not going to lie… I like when you take the lead.” - she winks at him, who lets out a chuckle.

“I thought I was going to faint.” - he murmurs, rolling to her side on the bed, his arms still around her, hugging her tightly.

“Me too.” - a lazy smile dances on her lips. - “You know, I really like your hair like this.”

“Like a mess?” - she laughs heartily.

“Yeah.” - she kisses him softly and they shuffle in the bed, laying on a more comfortable position, with Tom on his back and Julia nestled to his chest, drawing circles on his bare skin, one of his arms around her shoulders. - “What time is it?”

“I have no idea.” - he reaches out to his phone. - “Don’t worry, we still got time.”

“For another round?” - she asks mischievously and he laughs loudly, the sound of his laughter reverberating through his body.

“Jeez, don’t you ever get tired?”

“Of you? Never.”

“You’re so cheesy, Julia.”

“Didn’t you know that this is my middle name?” - he laughs again.

“God, I’ll miss you so much. I wish you could come with me.”

“That’s not a good idea. Can you imagine if I met your parents? What would I say? ‘Uh, hi, I’m the one who took your son’s virginity’.” - Tom blushes but can’t hold back a laughter. - “That would be just terrible and your mom would hate my guts forever.”

“Yeah, that would be awkward.” - he agrees. She bends over him, her face just inches from his.

“...But I’ll come over to visit you at your dorm in college. So often you’ll get sick of seeing my face.”

“That’s not gonna happen.”

“Why? Because we literally will live on opposite sides of the country, so it’ll be practically impossible to see you as much as I’d like to? Or because you would never get tired of my pretty face?”

“Both.” - she grins widely and pecks on his lips.

“Good answer. And you better do the same, sir. Come visit me in Hartfeld, I mean. I can’t believe you never went to a rock show before! We’re so doing it when you come to see me.”

Tom smiles as he watches the girl he loves making plans for both of them, his hand playing with the ends of her short hair.

“I will. I promise.”

“Wherever we go, we’ll find a way to see each other, right?”

His smile broadens.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Tagging @littlecrookedheart @pixelburied @mysticgayralsei @breaumonts @christopher-powell @madhattterusagi @noahpologiste @samira-yazdi @mysteli @indiacater @indescribablechoices @emomoustache @choices-fanatic @edgydepressedchoicesthot @violarobics @withoutanyconfidence @tiz-rex @priya-trash @alicegma @thequeenchoices @srta-give-me-my-jax-rl

[artificialqueens]

bound to you (pearlet) - pipedream

a/n: this is about a million firsts for me (including the first time i’ve written in about two years) and for context this is a chapter from a much bigger trixya fic i’m writing based on the film burlesque that i planned ages ago. i knew i wouldn’t be able to include every scene and pov i wanted for this in the actual fic so hence this mess. massive shoutout to @grey-darling for beta reading and being an all round angel (thanks for preventing my utter neurosis) and i just made a sideblog for writing that i’m hopefully actually going to use so check out @piipedreams if you want!

Violet’s wedding dress is, to say the least, unconventional. Barely hitting mid-thigh, it manifests itself as a white corset pulling her waist to an almost impossible size with her small breasts perfectly cupped and stone lines running down the bodice, thick white feathers along with strips of glittered tulle hanging off in every direction as a skirt. Her hair is perfectly coiffed to avoid tangling in the white feathers rising up from the top of the corset behind her like a regal collar or strange halo, and despite looking like one of her dance costumes, the glittering tiara and jewels twisted into her updo and her signature red lips constantly upturned make her seem like the most regal person Trixie has ever seen. It is glamorous, extra and, she thinks, quintessentially Violet. Trixie loves her. Trixie loves weddings.

In spite of her expectations, the wedding is a rather small affair. Around forty guests are invited, most the charismatic yet sleazy twenty-somethings Max keeps as friends, laughing obnoxiously loudly and milling about with undone top buttons and bottles of lager clutched in one hand as they try to charm the girls from the club. Trixie feels fiercely protective of them as she watches an already intoxicated man wrap a possessive arm over a tense Farrah, and is about to stride over to the scene when she feels a hand clasp around her upper arm, acrylic nails slightly biting into her skin with the force of the grip.

Katya had left the apartment early that morning, while Trixie was showering, without a hello or goodbye, to get ready with Violet and her bridesmaids Raja, Courtney and Alaska. Trixie hadn’t seen her dress, her makeup or her planned hairstyle and as she swivels around to face the hand clutching her, she remembers why she abandoned religion long ago, because no god could be so merciless as to force her to endure such torture. Because Katya is stunning in every way, from the violet lace flowers adorning her sheer, knee length dress to the silver Dr Marten boots contrasting the elegance of her tiara, curls and makeup that must have been done by Raja. Trixie could fucking cry, she wants to say something but she’s lost, eyes firmly planted on the offensive boots she wears. But Katya doesn’t seem to have the patience to be stared at, yanking Trixie closer to her and pressing two fingers from her spare hand under Trixie’s chin to tilt it up to face her.

They’re inches apart, Katya as always chewing incessantly on gum, so close that Trixie can hear every time it’s squelched between her teeth, can smell and taste the mint radiating from her grape painted lips, can feel hot air against her face and Katya’s eyes bore into her, solemn and serious, slightly wide and pupils dilated. Her lips part in what seems like slow motion to Trixie, gentle and graceful, and when she speaks her voice is a soft whisper.

“Pearl is here.” And now it all makes sense. The words come out rushed, panicked and her eyes widen further, her chewing on the gum picking up pace and power until Trixie is slightly terrified she’s going to grind her teeth down or unhinge her own jaw. Her fingers are twitching. Trixie doesn’t break their gaze.

“Who the fuck invited her?” she demands. All she can think about is the last few weeks, Pearl’s sullen face and blatant antagonism, every biting comment aimed her way, every bitchy side-eye at one of the girls and muttered insults. Pearl drinking, Pearl turning up late, high, Michelle refusing to let her go on stage and replacing her. It’s not the day for drama or negativity, for the pendulous grey cloud hanging over Pearl’s head like her own personal crown. In short, Trixie can’t be fucking bothered with her.

“Violet, I think,” Katya responds, face contorted so Trixie knows she’s chewing on the inside of her cheek enough to make it bleed. “I love her but you know she can be pretty–” She stops, sighs and tugs Trixie’s arm harder so they’re slowly making their way across the room from the bar to the double doors, “–oblivious.”

Trixie nods once, goes to instinctively bite her thumb nail before remembering they’re now acrylic and detouring to the skin around it instead. She lets herself be pulled to the door like a child, only stopping when Katya slaps her hand out of her mouth, catching it in her own before it falls to her side to wipe the pink lipstick from her silver nails with a sweeping caress. She doesn’t let go after that, releasing her arm with a quick rub to it and avoiding all eye contact as she says, almost guiltily, “I’m taking you to talk to her. She asked to speak to you and I didn’t know what to do… or say. Sorry.” Another sigh. The tension wrapped in her lithe body aggravates Trixie but there’s now a swooping feeling in the pit of her stomach so she stays silent, lets Katya push open the wooden door with a bang and strides over to the smoke signal indicating Pearl’s presence. Katya leaves without a word.

Due to the rushed plans and low budget, Violet’s wedding is in a local town hall, a simplistic location with nothing special. Pearl’s stoic expression, precisely painted face and cigarette seems more than a little out of place somewhere so rustic, and finally Trixie sees what all the other girls must have, once upon a time, because she doesn’t want to get any closer but she can’t tear her eyes away. Pearl is like a Renaissance painting, intimidating and ethereal to look at yet much too powerful to be near. Sitting on the curb, looking out upon a carpark of battered Hondas seems wrong to Trixie, as though she is breaking some kind of divine rule. The smoke of the cigarette held between them chokes her as she carefully positions herself on the left of Pearl, neither one of them looking at the other now. Trixie’s love for weddings is slowly fading. She’s tongue-tied.

“I swear I wasn’t always such an uptight bitch,” Pearl begins, taking a drag of her cigarette as Trixie decides whether to gasp or laugh. It seems too out of the blue to be real. As she exhales, Trixie watches her features pinch and her eyes screw up for a second before she exclaims, almost desperate, “I don’t know what the fuck has happened to me!”

Trixie doesn’t speak. She has no words to say, no sympathy for the girl who thus far has only tormented her and thrown the dynamic of the club off completely. It’s not fair of her to call Trixie out like this, force her to listen to her breakdown and her frustration and her probably meaningless sob-story excuse. But she was raised too polite to say any of this, or to get up and leave to have fun with her friends as planned, so she just taps her foot in time to the new number Michelle told her to learn and listens.

“It’s a whole long fucking story I don’t want to go into and I’m sure you don’t too and I– I swear this isn’t an excuse or anything I know there’s no excuse but– fuck – I used to be so, like, flazeda, you know?” Pearl turns to her, the cigarette in her fingers long forgotten.

“Flazeda?” Trixie huffs out a breath of laughter, baffled.

“Is that– Is that not the phrase? I don’t know, I was always a dumb bitch according to Violet– fuck, Violet– but like, I swear I’m usually so fucking chill.”

Trixie finds that hard to believe. “Are you drunk?”

“No, I had like one cocktail when I got here but there were too many people at the bar and I know they don’t want to see me right now so I just kinda avoided everyone after that– God what am I saying? - anyway-”

“Get to the point, girl. I don’t wanna be out here.”

“Right, sorry, I just-” She sighs, takes one last drag from her cigarette before putting it out against her knee, burning a small hole through her dress. Trixie knows Violet made that dress. She wonders if she did that on purpose. “-I’m not a bad person. I know I’ve been a fucking asshole to you and I know you hate me, which I get, but I swear this isn’t me. And I’m sorry.”

“I don’t know what you’re even saying, Pearl. And why now? Your timing is… kinda fucked.”

“I know, I know, I just-” She looks skittish and panicked, nothing like what she’s used to, or what she claims to be. “-Violet’s getting married!” She pulls out her carton of cigarettes again with twitching hands only to find it empty. Without a second thought, she hauls it into the car park and watched it bounce off one of the battered Hondas. Trixie stifles a snort. She tries again.

“Violet’s getting married and I know that now. She’s got a whole future ahead of her, a life planned and she knows who she is and what she wants and that’s so good! It is! But I’m a year older than her and I know nothing and I’m just letting things happen and fucking things up over and over again and for what? To watch a twenty three year old I care about more than anyone slowly leave me and show me everything I’m doing wrong. Everything is a fucking mess and I need to start fixing things. And there’s nothing I’ve fucked up more than my relationship with you.”

The words feel too weighted for Trixie to process. She speaks in riddle and metaphor, convoluted and fragmented all at once and Trixie didn’t sign up to solve puzzles today. She gives her a look, pointed and demanding, all hooded eyes and pursed lips.

“I never thought Violet would get married. At least, not now. Not like this.” She shakes her head. “But I’m, like, coming to terms with it and accepting it and moving on. So I had a lot of shit going on and I took it out on you and I’m sorry. I was bitter and jealous and fucking disheartened and I blamed you but I shouldn’t have. So I can put all that resentment and drama behind me if you can. I want a fresh start. So,” she turns to face Trixie with her whole body, arms wrapped around herself as she meets Trixie’s gaze, looking smaller and more human than ever before. “Truce?”

Trixie is exhausted. While Pearl’s voice can often be soothing, as pleasant as her very appearance, the neurosis under every word made it heavy and painful, and neither of them, she realises, are heartless. They’re all just girls desperate for a place to come home. So she nods, rests a hand on Pearl’s knee to repeat “Truce,” as authentically as she can and rises, ready to immerse herself in the celebration and hope awaiting inside instead of festering in Pearl’s hopelessness any longer.

As Trixie retreats, Pearl tries to gather her thoughts. She’d expected her apology to sound sincere and genuine, to allow Trixie a first glimpse into her old self, the real her she’s trying to become again, but the moment she arrived her whole situation had become too much for her brain to handle and she’d spouted out nothing, she felt, of value. She wonders if she’ll have time to pop to the shop across the street for more cigarettes before Katya sends over the next person she requested, and considers laughing briefly when she tries to conjure the image of Katya like a scout trying to lead lost girls through to her like some kind of interviewer, but all amusement falls from her when she sees the stern face of Michelle out the corner of her eye. Another demon to face.

Michelle doesn’t lower herself to the same level as Pearl. Reaching her, she doesn’t lie with her body contorted in ways that should not be possible and nick a fag like Katya, doesn’t curl up on the curb in a ball and look up earnestly like Adore, nor does she stretch out with long legs extended into the road like Trixie. Instead she just stands, looking down on the pathetic form in front of her, and Pearl has never felt more ashamed or guilty, not in all her outbursts, all her moments with Violet, all her fights with Trixie. She wants to get it over with as quick as possible.

“I didn’t sleep with Sean,” she starts with a sigh, trying to block out the fleeting memories of the night she yelled that at Michelle, drunk and high and stupid with unbridled emotion. “I just wanted to find a way to make you hurt the way I was. I crossed a line.”

“Yes.” She responds, features slightly relaxing. Pearl loves her. “But you did sleep with Violet.”

And there it is, the elephant in the room for weeks, months, over a year. The world’s worst kept secret she convinced herself was the best. In theory, she knew that most of the girls, hell, most of the workers at the club in general, must’ve known, with the exception of Trixie and Adore, perhaps, but nobody ever said anything or even hinted, so she told herself over and over again that they didn’t know, that this was just for her and Violet, something for them to enjoy in private. Just the two of them. But the club is her family, and family know everything, whether they acknowledge it or not. She can’t deny it.

“Yes.”

“Multiple times.”

“Yes.” She thought calling people out to speak to her like this would be good, that she’d have full control over the situation. Trust Michelle to hold all power over her effortlessly. Instantly. She watches her mouth open again, ready to speak more unbearable truths, to tell her things she hasn’t even spoken aloud yet, so she cuts her off with a lulling, classically Pearl voice, proud. “Michelle, I want to come home.”

“You came here, despite everything. You’re already home.” The words are gratifying, like some kind of spell that saves her, redeems her, makes everything feel not-so-hopeless and finished. For a moment, the tightness of her lungs relieves itself as she thinks about how easy her next conversations with Kim and Shea should be after that, until Michelle lays a hand on her shoulder and regains her attention.

“I know you’ve been sending Katya in search of all of the girls for you to talk to but I stopped her. I told her to just send in the one that matters, because I knew you wouldn’t call her. So talk it out, get out your own head and don’t you ever pull any of that shit again or you will be out so quick it’ll make your head spin.”

“Yes ma’am,” she responds to Michelle’s retreating form in a moment of pure catharsis.

“And don’t you ever fucking call me that again, bitch!” Pearl finally allows herself to laugh, open and real and it feels so good, so freeing and real until the tightness in her chest returns and she stops, mouth still open, caught dead. Michelle doesn’t fuck around, and she could recognise the silhouette approaching her anywhere.

“Violet,” she breathes out, stunned. It wasn’t that she didn’t ask for Violet because she had nothing to say, she just had far too much and couldn’t gather her thoughts enough to decide what was appropriate to tell her. She can barely think at all in Violet’s presence, it’s what’s lead her to the position she’s in now, sat helpless on a curb with no fags and too many feelings outside the wedding of her best friend, who approaches her like she’s a wounded animal, all gentle eyes and slow movements. It’s a Violet most of the world hasn’t seen, and she wonders how much of this side Max has seen. Wonders if it’s more than she has. Wonders whether she really wants to know the answer to that.

Unlike Michelle, Violet sits, but not next to her like any other regular human. Muttering a petulant “I didn’t want the fucking thing anyway,” she removes the long veil from her head, places it on the ground and tries to lower herself to sit on it, fighting the control of her corset, right in the road, directly opposite Pearl. Face to face. She lets out a groan as she finally sits and stretches her legs out so her feet sit in Pearl’s lap. It feels too familiar, and to disguise her expressions Pearl looks down and fiddles with the white faux fur attached by hand, she’s sure, to the stilettos. “You wanted to talk?”

“No,” Pearl admits, because this is Violet. “Michelle wanted us to talk.”

“About…?” And she’s stumped. Of course she knows what Michelle was insinuating but she doesn’t have the words for that yet, isn’t ready to open and fully delve into that can of worms, she’s dumbstruck and overwhelmed and terrified. She reaches desperately for something, anything that matters and can get across her point in a subtle and ambiguous way that she doesn’t have to fully come to terms with. “Why are you marrying him? Wait, no, why are you getting married in the first place?”

Violet doesn’t look half as offended as she’d expected, but throws out pretty quickly a defensive “Because I’m in love!” as she kicks Pearl’s hands away from her feet. She’s unsure if it’s an act of petulance or protection over her brand new shoes.

“Are you? Or at least, is that the real reason for all this, not the pregnancy drama?”

“Are you?”

She ignores that, tries to persist. “I just want to make sure you’re doing this for the right reasons. I mean, Jesus Violet, you’re only twenty three.”

“Answer my question. Are you?” Violet’s tone is pointed, eyes look black as they pierce her, imploring.

“Answer mine first.” She gulps. She didn’t want to have this conversation, curses Michelle and Katya and Violet and herself and any greater being if they exist.

“That seems like all the answer I need. But not what I want. And you know me, Pearl. I always get what I want.” Pearl can’t grasp her tone and work out whether it’s seductive or intimidating as she tilts her head to the side, capturing her eyes in a fierce gaze. She finds it both, equally. “I’m getting married to secure my future with somebody I love, who can love, take care of, and provide for me for the rest of my life. I’m in love. Are you?” She tilts her head to the other side this time, eyes slightly wide, all curious and innocent.

“I– who would I even be in love with?” Pearl stammers out, barely able to form words. She feels caught off-guard entirely. Like Michelle, Violet knows how to command anything and immediately take charge of the situation. It used to be one of her favourite things about her.

“Me.” She stares harder, refusing to allow Pearl to look away.

This is Violet. The girl she calls her best friend, the girls she’s spent endless nights with, countless intimate moments, the girl she’s admitted most of her secrets and all her darkest thoughts to. This is Violet, who she promised never to lie to and never to hurt. She doesn’t break promises, but now she finds the two in complete opposition. She knows which one she has to break, but she can’t bear it.

“Do you love me?” Violet tries again, but it’s not a firm and demanding as before. It’s by no means soft or gentle, not at all sympathetic, it’s just a plain and sincere question. She could’ve been asking what she had for breakfast.

“No.” She tries. “I mean, yes. You’re one of the girls, you know. You’re family, and I love you all. You’re my best friend and I care about you more than anything. Of course I love you.” The lump in her throat swells as she speaks and she tries not to let it affect her words or block her airway. “But are you in love with me?” Never satisfied, she thinks, mentally rolling her eyes.

“No.” Pearl lies. Violet bites on the tip of her own tongue.

“You’re sure?”

“Yes. I care about you a lot but I don’t think it’s love.”

“Then why are you here?”

“I promised you I’d come. And I don’t break my promises.” She lies again, but it’s enough to placate Violet, who nods once, assured. Pearl watches with hungry eyes as she takes in a deep, sharp breath and smiles.

“Good. Well, you found out why I’m getting married and I found out why you’re here so everything is even, right?” Pearl nods quickly. Violet pulls her feet out of Pearl’s lap and places her hands on the ground, bracing herself to stand. Before she does, though, she reconnects their gaze with friendly, slightly guarded eyes.

“Are you staying to watch the ceremony? Or did you just come to fix things with everyone?”

“I don’t know.”

“OK.” It feels too anticlimactic an ending. Violet must sense it too as she stands, because she looks back as she picks up her ruined veil. “It starts in five. I’ll see you in there, or– maybe not. But hey, you can keep this.” She tosses the veil into Pearl’s lap nonchalantly. “And Pearl?” She halts her movements and softens. “I’m glad you’re back. And happy.”

“Me too. With you. I’m glad you’re happy with him, and in love. You deserve it.” Blatant lies mixed with truth. Pearl thought she had turned over a new leaf. What a dumb bitch she is.

Violet walks away, outfit still as white as ever, right down to the shoes. She pushes through the booming double doors like an ice queen and out of Pearl’s sight entirely, leaving her on the curb facing the car park with nothing but a battered veil and her thoughts for company.

By time she’s finally collected herself, ran back through every conversation of the afternoon in her mind, the sun is setting slightly and blinding her and she decides to go inside. The concept of time had left her grasp a while ago and she’s not sure if the ceremony has started or finished by this point, but she decides to take her chances. She promised Violet since they were barely adults, long before they should legally have been in the club, that she’d always be by her side. Her wedding included. So she stands without another thought and strides towards the wooden double doors, a veil in one hand and an old clutch bag in the other, and pushes open the doors with her fist and a little too much force, stumbling through them like an idiot as she loses her balance and slips on one leg. When she regains control of her limbs to stop herself from falling to the ground and embarrassing herself entirely, she is met with around forty faces turned in her direction. The heaving wooden doors had slammed together behind her with a thud and, naturally, drawn all attention in the room to her pathetic, bumbling figure. She tries to conjure up something to say and, devoid of any sense of dignity, holds the soiled veil clutched in her fist up.

“You forgot your veil.”

Being such a mess, so mortifyingly out of control, she expected the guests to laugh at her. What she hadn’t expected was the stoic silence she was met with, eyes flitting between people and back at her, mixtures of shock, confusion and utter disdain upon their faces. She slowly lowers her hand and watches Katya grab Trixie’s hand, chewing on the skin of her bottom lip. Michelle will be furious if it bleeds, she thinks momentarily, but it’s neither the time nor place, and she hadn’t meant to cause a stir but she can’t see an empty seat and an all-too-familiar voice breathes out “Pearl” with such ambivalent emotion that she seems to have forgotten every reason she decide to come in the first place.

“Pearl.” This time the voice is Michelle’s, speaking to her like she’s a stubborn child. “You–”

“What is she doing here?” Max demands to an unresponsive Violet, whose full body had turned to Pearl upon her arrival, crimson lips parted and eyes wider than she’d ever seen them. The quickening, deep rise and fall of her chest as she breathes is visible even from the other side of the aisle. Realising he’s not going to get anything from his soon-to-be wife, Max rounds on her instead. “You weren’t invited. Get out of my wedding.”

For once in her life, she decides, she’s going to stand her ground. She’s going to follow her gut and do what feels right and she isn’t going to give in and let people down. Violet is twenty three and about to be married because she knows who she is and what she wants and goes for it. Pearl is twenty four and it’s time she starts acting upon that too. “Violet invited me.”

Max scoffs. “No she didn’t. We wrote the guestlist together, you weren’t send an invitation.”

“No.” She screws her eyes shut for a second before they meet Violet’s wide ones, knowing the words are going to hurt. “She invited me at the club. Face to face.”

Max rounds on Violet again, who is still motionless. “Is this true?” He does not demand, as she’d expected, but asks softly with a furrowed brow. Hurt, perhaps.

Violet nods slowly. Pearl watches her throat bob as she swallows. In barely more than a whisper she tries to speak again, a gentle “Pearl, I-” before she is cut off this time by their minister. Everything and everybody is in disarray.

“I believe we were at the vows, yes?” She aims to Max, nodding frantically to try and regain some sense of order. Violet is elsewhere, frozen, as he nods back at her and places his hands gently on her waist, turning her to face him as he expresses his love for her in words Pearl is certain only half the room is really hearing. She resigns herself to watch the ceremony standing, watch her best friend sign her life away to a man twenty years older than her who hates Pearl and has to physically move her in order to get her to marry him. It all feels so wrong. She hates that Violet wants this. A bitter, selfish, dark part of her prays that Violet doesn’t really want this but she silences it.

As Max says “Till death do us part,” with a small smile on his lips and his hands clutching Violet’s, Violet shuts her eyes. It’s the first time she’s moved of her own accord since Pearl’s entrance. Her eyes are squeezed so tightly shut her eyeshadow is barely visible and Pearl wants to call out to her and stop her, to press her index fingers against the wrinkled eyelids and flatten them out, to tell her her makeup is going to be ruined, but she can’t. There’s an aisle and a man and a ring between them, and all the man is doing is saying “Violet!” once in a sharp whisper, like a parent berating their child while trying not to embarrass themself. Like anyone could ever be embarrassed of Violet.

Taking in what looks like a huge breath, Violet opens her eyes and slowly extracts her hands from Max’s grip. She looks at him with sorrowful eyes and turns away to face the aisle. Like some sort of Medusa, she turns Pearl to stone as her gaze fixes on her, and this time she speaks properly, with volume and power and certainty.

“Pearl,” despite the newfound conviction, she is soft when she speaks, her voice all breathy and airy, perfectly regal. It’s not the first time she’s been so compelling Pearl has wanted nothing more than to get on her knees before her, but this time it is nothing but respect and a feeling of pure unworthiness that makes her feel as though she should kneel, or bow or curtsy. The aisle is short but Violet finds a way to walk only halfway down it, an equal distance from Max and her. It’s all too much and there are forty pairs of eyes trained on them that Violet seems barely even aware of as she speaks again.

This time, there is no teasing, no fleeting insinuations and speaking in metaphor and half-sentences. She is plain and direct when she finally asks “Are you in love with me?”

And while part of Pearl had been fully expecting the question, she is still somehow taken aback by the words. This is it, her very last chance, the precipice of their whole relationship and Violet’s future. It’s the final opportunity she has to act upon what she really feels, regardless of the consequences. It’s now or never. Before she opens her mouth, however, Violet speaks again. “Pearl. I need to know. I can’t get married without knowing everything there is to know about myself and my life. I’m about to give my whole future to him, until death. I have to know. Are you in love with me?”

The question has been asked so many times it’s beginning to become unbearable. But so is the old Pearl, so she straightens up, looks Violet dead in the eyes and tries to prevent her voice from cracking as she says without a hint of regret or hestiance “Yes.”

Violet takes one step closer. One fucking step. “Say it.” Her voice is barely above a whisper, just for the two of them. She does not command, implore or desperately plead. She just speaks, encouraging Pearl to speak again like she’s sharing another secret with her beneath silk sheets. And Pearl is melted by her gaze. “I love you.” She swallows the lump in her throat and it leaves for good. Her body feels light. It’s a feeling she hadn’t remembered. “I’m in love with you.”

Behind Violet, Pearl can hear Max stuttering out single syllables with an expression like a fish, all typical masculine outrage and bewilderment, completely struck wordless by the idea of his wedding day being anything less than perfect. But as Violet approaches her with an unreadable expression and grabs onto her upper arms with both hands, she finds she couldn’t care less about him, or anyone else for that matter. They have forty people as an attentive audience unable to tear their eyes away from the soap opera drama they have a front row seat to, but she doesn’t care about them either. Because Violet is gritting her teeth and pulling her closer as she turns and says, with only a slither of apology laced in her tone “Max, I can’t marry you. I love you, and you could give me the future I always planned for myself, but I’m twenty three now. And that’s not the future I want. So I’m sorry, but I guess I’m cancelling the wedding?”

The last phrase comes out more as a question, her voice breaking slightly and Pearl fears, for a moment, that Violet has made the wrong decision - is still barely able to process that Violet has made a decision, that she had a decision to make - but then she turns back to Pearl, who sees that her voice had wobbled as a huge grin had graced her face, mouth half open as though more than pleasantly surprised with her own decision and eyes sparkling.

Pearl loves her. Pearl is so in love with her and her toothy grins and twinkling eyes and when Violet ecstatically says “I– I love you too!” with a furrowed brow and breathy voice, completely dazed by her own life, Pearl feels giddy and silly and she laughs. Her hands go to Violet’s hips, slightly tickled by feathers as she pulls her closer and they laugh right into each other’s faces, ugly, loud, completely unromantic and more than perfect.

And when Violet finally kisses her, long and lingering and interrupted by dizzy grins, soft yet firm lips making more promises than even Pearl has and washing away every moment of tension she’d had out on that fucking curb, more fulfilling than the cigarettes she’d been craving for what feels like forever now and more addictive than nicotine could ever be, she feels like the old Pearl all over again. She can vaguely hear a man wolf whistle and the newfound defiant side of her itches to put her middle finger up until Violet, beautiful, perfect, unromantic yet still in love with Pearl, does it first and Pearl pulls her closer, breaking the kiss to rest their foreheads and noses together, not yet ready to face her smeared lipstick. Katya is whooping, she’s sure, and she can feel the grins from the girls from the club radiating off them.

“What now?” Violet asks as she pulls her face away, eyes flickering down to their conjoined hands almost self-consciously. It’s a very un-Violet like gesture, the kind to put her on edge for a moment, until she continues. “I’m not letting you be the Elaine to my Ben so you better have a plan.” Always so demanding.

“When have I ever had a plan for anything?” Pearl responds, shaking her head with her lips upturned and eyes more fond than she’d like. Violet laughs again, loud and obnoxious, turning away to face the girls from the club. As they’d got caught up in each other, the guests had for the most part made their way to the bar, trying to make the most of its availability before they inevitably get kicked out. Their club family, however stand in a cluster closeby, waiting for them to break away so they can round on them, and for a minute Pearl has flashbacks to playing football as a child and the team gathering her up after scoring a goal. Violet, she thinks, is the greatest goal she’s ever scored.

Alaska is softly sobbing into the crook of Sharon’s neck, who has one arm wrapped around her and is laughing hysterically as Katya bounces up and down behind her with her hands on her shoulders, talking endlessly about everything too quickly for Pearl to process. Violet is wrapped under her arm now as people speak to them, congratulations and jokes and bets and claims they knew all along tossed on them unrelentlessly until Michelle appears.

“How do you feel?” She asks, and Pearl doesn’t know who she’s directed it at. She lets Violet speak first.

“This was the right decision.” Pearl’s heart feels full. “I would’ve been signing my life away to him, bound to him for eternity. I don’t think I’m meant to belong to anyone like that.” She nudges Pearl with her hip. “This one wouldn’t dare try me. She knows me too well.”

Michelle laughs, hearty and glad. “Good luck with that one,” she says, addressing Pearl this time. “She’ll keep you on your toes. I hope you know what you signed up for,” she jokes with a wink.

“So do I.” She returns with false dread, teeth gritted and brow raised as Violet screams beside her and pushes her away momentarily, pulling her back by her hand into a chaste kiss as Michelle retreats before turning to her, eyes doe-like and youthful with sudden sincerity.

“You know you could’ve avoided all this drama if you’d just said yes outside. I knew you loved me all along, but I couldn’t be with someone who couldn’t admit that to me. I’m too old to be ashamed of anything anymore, especially not love.”

It’s too much for Pearl to take. She is brimful with love. “Shut the fuck up,” she simply says with a grin, shoving her head slightly. “You’re a fucking baby.”

“Your fucking baby.”

“Oh, do you have a plan for us now, since I’m apparently so useless?” she shoots back, all playful and flirty, and god how she’d missed this.

“Maybe,” Violet replies conspiratorially, tapping the side of her nose before she plants a big, red kiss on Pearl’s cheek. Pearl fucking hates her. “I love you!” Violet adds with a grin.

[mama-m1na]

The Journey of a Witch: One

                                          ~~~~~~~

So, quick note I made a quick sketch of the layout of the Shop on my page under “The Journey of a Witch” tab.

                                          ~~~ I ~~~

“Hey, isn’t that the witch?”

“Shit, it is! Be careful around her, they say all of her predictions are 100%!”

The sixteen-year-old paid no mind to the ramblings of those around her as her waist long, raven black hair fluttered in the breeze as she walked down the street.

Her the golden flecks in her brown irises glittered as they caught the dreaded sunlight which she came to dislike.

Her plum colored dress complimenting her tan skin tone quite well as she browsed the stalls in the farmer’s market.

“I feel kind of bad for her though.”

“What do you mean?”

“With what happened four years ago in Pyget, I’m still surprised she continues to do magic.”

A smile graced her face as her eyes caught a group of chicks for sale and she stopped to play with them for a while.

“A lot of the people are glad she does though.”

“I guess, with a pretty high success rate for her magic.”

“Yeah.”

With her arms full the teenager walked home to her home and shop in the small town of Etlecaum.

“I’m home!” she chirped to an empty house as she unlocked the door and took off her shoes.

She sighed as she put things away and tidied things up, walking past the three suitcases for the trip she was leaving for with seven of her closest friends.

The next morning the girl dressed in a plain black t-shirt, black leggings, and black combat boots.

Around her neck was a black collar with a bow at the front and a golden lock hanging from it. Most people would find it weird or kinky; however, for her it was a part of one of the spells she had cast upon arriving back from Pyget four years ago.

After eating breakfast she went down stairs to where her magic shop was and she checked everything before opening for the day.

Ten minutes later the door opens to let in a familiar elderly woman holding a wooden staff.

“Good morning, Mrs. Sage,” the girl greeted, “Looking for anything in particular?”

“No, Rhamina, I’m just wandering,” the woman replied looking through a book on crystals, “So, I hear you’re leaving for Pyget soon.”

“Yes, I’m finally bringing some others along,” the ravenette chirped.

“Oh, so more people will be allowed to join in the Festival now,” Mrs. Sage smiled.

“Yep, with that rule of ‘You can only take part in the Festival if you’ve partaken before or you’re a guest of a magician partaking in it,’ only Mr. Conrad and I have been able to do it for the past three years,” the ravenette sighed, “It was boring, just the two of us. He was a good person but the Festival and rituals are better with more people there.”

“Ah, yes, Mr. Conrad. Such a shame he passed away,” the woman sighed earning a nod from Rhamina.

“Yes, but better from old age than being murdered by them,” stated the teen, her eyes narrowing a bit.

Mrs. Sage placed a hand on Rhamina’s shoulder as she asked, “Do you still hold anger towards that group, The Remedy?”

“No,” she sighed, “I just wonder why they hate magic users to the point where they would want to rid the world of all of them. They haven’t pulled a stunt as big as the Festival recently but they still manage to ruin the lives of so many of us.”

“Truly,” the woman said checking her watch, “Well, I must be on my way, Dear, good luck.”

“Have a good day, Mrs. Sage,” Rhamina chirped as the woman exited her shop.

As Rhamina was on her lunch break the door burst open and a familiar voice screamed, “Mina!”

The ravenette sighed as she came out of the back room to find her friend, Kerstin, swinging around a toy minecraft sword.

“At least it wasn’t like Christmas when your parents got you a fucking nerf gun,” the ravenette sighed sitting on one of her counters, “I mean they should have known better than to get you that.”

“I know right!” the brunette chirped, “They immediately got shot that day!”

“I’m surprised they didn’t take it away from you,” Rhamina chuckled.

“They tried,” replied Kerstin causing the ravenette to bust out in laughter, “Oh, they tried.”

“So are you ready for your magical awakening in Pyget?” Rhamina mused as the shorter female squealed.

“Oh my fucking god! I’ve been so excited ever since you invited us!” Kerstin exclaimed, “Like it sucks what happened, but now it’s exclusive for all of us!”

“Yeah, but you have to be careful, you can still be kicked out by the townspeople since you’re new,” Rhamina warned, “they’re really on edge about it. Security is ramped up to the max this year since I’m the only original left.”

“Yeah, I know. I’ll be on my best behavior!” Kerstin replied patting Rhamina on the shoulder.

“That means no stealing anything from the markets,” Rhamina deadpanned as the brunette cursed to herself.

“Also, I hope you’re packed,” the ravenette chuckled, “We leave in two days and stay there for about a month.”

Kerstin chuckled as she left the building and Rhamina shook her head at the teen’s antics.

As the day came to a close Rhamina checked all of the things around the store before locking up and heading up to her living space.

As she ate her dinner she read through a book that she found interesting.

“Oh my Lord, I hate this character so much!” she exclaimed as she turned the page, “Why the fuck am I attracted to you?!”

This was actually a constant problem for her. Falling for fictional characters that is.

“I’m so fucking lonely,” she giggled as she closed her book and put away her left overs.

Two days later Rhamina sighed as she sat in between two fourteen-year-old girls who were both clinging to her arms at the airport.

This continued as they proceeded to board their airship.

One of them had shoulder length blond hair, ivory colored skin, and blue eyes.

The other had shoulder length brown hair, a light tan, and brown eyes with glasses.

“Mina!” the brunette chirped.

“Yes, Chloe?” Rhamina asked as she looked down at child-like brown irises.

“Pet me!” commanded the younger female as the ravenette begrudgingly obeyed.

“Look how spoiled she is,” Rhamina said momentarily stopping causing the brunette to look up in disappointment as she let out a series of owl noises.

“I mean look,” Rhamina continued as Chloe began to nuzzle the sixteen-year-old’s arm.

“Ramen, she looks like she’s gonna kill you in your sleep,” the concerned blonde said pointing out the adorable looking glare on Chloe’s face.

“Aurora, you know she can try but I’ll just put her in a corner,” Rhamina replied before leaning back in her seat for a nap.

Ten minutes later Rhamina slapped a hand that was above her face and opened her eyes to see a dark hand above her as a green marker fell to the floor.

“Have you not learned your lesson, Tijarah?” Rhamina asked her friend, “You cannot achieve this.”

“I’ll still eat you out of house and home though,” Tijarah scoffed leaning back in her seat.

“I can do that on my own, thank you very much,” Rhamina said looking out the window to see the night sky and ground below the airship, “Well, looks like we’re almost there.”

“Yep and it’s already dry as fuck,” Kerstin scoffed from her seat, “Sam, you’re going to have one hell of a time.”

“Fuck you,” the emerald-eyed female spat putting vaseline on her lips.

“You know,” a red-haired female said, “I’m kind of glad Mo isn’t here.”

“Yeah, I’m agreeing with Hannah here,” the oldest female said, “I mean he’s a good kid but-”

“He’s annoying as shit,” Sam said cutting off the other brunette, “Sorry, Sophie, but he is.”

“No, you’re not wrong,” Sophie replied, “He is just way too much.”

“Oh he asked if I would bring him so he could get a month off of school but I said no because he’ll just disrespect the whole thing,” Rhamina explained, “He comes from Pyget, yes. But he comes from a different area and knows nothing about this.”

“Wait, so what exactly did you say?” Hannah asked.

“I just told him ‘No, you’re not coming with us’,” Rhamina sighed, “He came up to me talking about all the places he was planning to visit like I had already invited him, too. It was really insensitive.”

“I mean I get free transport there because this is an important thing and I’m identified as crucial for this and I was able to weasel you guys free tickets as well but I had to pay for luggage and that shit ain’t cheap,” Rhamina continued.

“How did he react?” Kerstin asked.

“He was really disappointed but I don’t really care,” Rhamina replied, “He was being way too pushy and I have a right to say no.”

“Plus, I wanted a vacation for just us special weirdos,” Rhamina chuckled deciding to change the subject.

“Yes, Ramen,” Aurora mused wiggling her eyebrows.

“So what exactly are we going to be doing first?” Sam asked pulling her brown hair into a ponytail.

“Well, I couldn’t really afford to get hotel rooms so we’re just staying in my other shop,” Rhamina explained as the airship descended.

“You have another shop in Pyget?” Kerstin asked, “How the fuck did that happen.”

“You know,” Rhamina chuckled with an awkward smile, “It used to be my friends but he- he’s gone now and I didn’t want anyone else to touch it so I, you know, snatched it.”

“Oof,” Sophie said as Chloe and Aurora tried to comfort the ravenette.

“There’s not much room though,” Rhamina continued, “You guys can take the bedrooms. I’ll just be in the living room then. Just if y’all see me floating in my sleep or some shit, run.”

“Mina, we’re the guests so we can just take the living room,” Sophie suggested earning a glare from the ravenette.

“My Aiasian ass says no,” Rhamina barked back, “You’re the guests you get the luxury shit.”

“How many bedrooms are there anyway?” Kerstin asked.

“A guest bedroom and the Master bedroom,” Rhamina replied as they let the aisles empty out before standing.

“Did your friend use the Master bedroom?” Sam asked earning a nod from Rhamina, “Then we’ll just cram in the guest bedroom and you take the master.”

“Excuse me?” Rhamina asked.

“Yeah,” Hannah added, “It would feel wrong to take the master bedroom since it’s your friend plus if the guest bedroom is the size of your normal bedroom then we should be fine.”

Before Rhamina could fight back the two children at her sides kept insisting until she gave in.

“Fine,” Rhamina groaned standing up and grabbing her leather, kiss lock purse, “But you better not sneak into my room at night or some shit.”

This earned snickers from all but two of the other girls as they got off of the aircraft.

“Holy shit,” Kerstin said standing outside of the airport under and overhang as the girls waited for someone to bring them a cart to bring their luggage to the shop.

“Aesthetic, isn’t it?” Rhamina chuckled using a black scarf as a hood as multiple whispers came from the people surrounding them.

“Ms. Miyu!” a girl with dark skin, short dark hair, and hazel eyes called running up to the large group, “It really is you!”

“Nice to see you again, Selene,” Rhamina chuckled as the girl wrapped her arms around the ravenette’s waist, much to the shagrin of two fourteen-year-olds.

“I was afraid you weren’t going to come this year,” the child sighed.

“Why wouldn’t I?” Rhamina asked smile slowly fading, “What happened, Selene?”

“Ms. Miyu, thank the stars you’re here!” an older woman exclaimed almost on the brink of tears, “We thought they had already done something to you!”

The aura seemed to shift as the girls left their luggage to be taken care of by some of the townspeople while they were lead to the plaza only to see something quite disturbing.

Right in front of them was a carbon copy of Rhamina tied to a cross with iron rods impaling various parts of her but what stood out to the ravenette was the familiar symbol tattooed onto the thing’s forehead.

It was a red cross split by crossbones, known as the symbol of the extremist group known as the Antidote.

Rhamina’s were narrowed as the girls looked at her in concern.

“Mina, are you okay?” Hannah asked putting a hand on the sixteen-year-old’s shoulder.

“I’m, okay but I’m concerned because they haven’t really tried anything big since four years ago,” the ravenette explained, “And they decide here and now to try to scare me off. They didn’t do this the past years I’ve been coming with just Mr. Conrad.”

“They want to end the Festival entirely,” a male walking up to the group, “It is the only event amongst the magic community which gathers all kinds of magic as united and with it gone, they’ll have a better chance at erasing magic from our world.”

“Thank you for the explanation, Mr. Antar,” Rhamina spoke nodding in recognition at the man.

“Ms. Miyu, I’ve told you many times to call me by my first name,” the male chuckled, “We are friends after all.”

“I’m sorry, its just after so long, it would feel weird,” Rhamina chuckled before turning to her friends, “Guys this is Mr. Antar, he is the head of the town’s council.”

“Mr. Antar, these are the ones who I’ve invited to take part in the Festival this year,” Rhamina introduced earning a happy expression from the man before it faded into a frown.

“It’s such an honor to have you all here, though I wish your first trip here wouldn’t have been so alarming,” he said turning back to the obvious threat.

“I-is that a real person?” Chloe asked tugging on Rhamina’s sleeve.

“Nah,” came the teen’s reply, “It’s a doll, a really realistic looking doll, but a doll.”

“Christ, Mina, is this safe?” Sophie asked in concern not for herself but for the ravenette.

“Every path has its own risks,” Rhamina replied with a shrug, “I just happen to choose all of them with the most life threatening but hey my life isn’t boring.”

“Mina, you have actual terrorists after you and you’re not fucking concerned about this?” Tijarah asked as they walked to the shop.

“Oh, I’m concerned but knowing that they could be watching from anywhere do you think I should be panicking?” the ravenette replied, “I’m not going to give them the satisfaction. If they want to burn me down they have to reach me first.”

“Mina, please tell me you don’t plan on doing anything to provoke them,” Hannah said knowing how she, Kerstin and Sam acted.

“Oh hell no,” Rhamina said taking out her keys and unlocking the door, “I leave them alone if they leave me alone. However if they cross me they get what comes to them. Hell consider them lucky that I don’t come after them now. They’ve done enough to consider themselves on my bad side.”

“Holy aesthetics,” Sophie said as they walked into the shop which was quite different to Rhamina’s in Emltucae.

“Yeah, Asra tended to keep the shop a little messier than mine but it’s cute isn’t it?” Rhamina chuckled beckoning the girls to follow her up the stairs.

“This is where we’ll be staying for the next month,” Rhamina said once they reached the modest sized living area, “Of course I hope you guys will be helping me around the shop as well but I only plan on opening the shop for two days a week. After all I have to give you guys some training before the actual Festival.”

“Yeah no problem, Man,” Aurora said, “Of course we’ll be helping!”

“Hey, Mina, where’s our shit?” Tijarah asked.

“Should be in the guest room,” Rhamina said as she led them down the hall to their room which did indeed have their luggage.

“So what do we have planned for tonight?” Chloe asked.

“Well not much for today since we just got here, but we can go eat out for tonight then tomorrow we can go explore a bit,” Rhamina chirped.

“Yeah, plus we need to unpack,” Hannah stated earning a series of groans from the rest of the females.

“Oh yeah, Mina, what’s with the scarf?” Chloe asked as Rhamina looked up from her luggage to motion to the scarf around her head.

“Chloe, I don’t like sunlight and we are like almost in the smack dab middle of a fucking desert,” Rhamina said grabbing her suitcases, “I’m taking precautions.”

Once the ravenette left the room, the girls got to work at organizing who would be sleeping on the bed and who would take the floor as well as who’s clothes would go where in the closet.

By the time the sun went down the girls gathered in the living room to go out for dinner wearing the same thing they had been earlier that day.

“So where exactly are we eating?” Tijarah asked as Rhamina came down the stairs.

“Of course, all about the food,” Sam sighed.

“Like you’re one to talk,” Kerstin snickered earning a glare from both of them.

“Neither can you!” Sam exclaimed back as the other girls burst out in laughter.

“Depends, what do you guys want to eat?” Rhamina asked pulling the scarf over her head again.

“Paajnese,” came the collective reply.

Rhamina blinked before asking, “Did you guys coordinate this before I came downstairs?”

“Yes,” Kerstin replied, “We decided when we were unpacking our shit.”

“Okay, there’s a sushi place down the road and its pretty good,” Rhamina said after a few minutes of thought, “We can just walk there.”  

“That works,” Sophie said, “Alright guys let’s go.”

Once everyone put on their shoes they walked out of the building and Rhamina locked the door before leading them to the restaurant.

It was much cooler now that the sun had disappeared below the horizon and in front of the restaurant Rhamina pointed out a large building in the distance.

“That’s the building the Festival takes place in,” she stated pointing at the sand colored building, “It’s actually just four walls surrounding an oasis. The walls are enchanted though only those with special sigils can enter; which, reminds me I need to make you guys ID’s to get in.”

“You need ID to get in?” Chloe asked as they entered the restaurant.

“Yes, it’s really old but powerful magic,” Rhamina replied as a hostess took them to a large booth, “I’m really lucky to have learned how to use it.”

“How the hell did your parents even let you start coming here, Mina?” Kerstin asked, “Your parents were strict as fuck.”

“Actually, Asra convinced them,” Rhamina chuckled, “When we first met, before I had my shop, it was at Lady of the Lake and we just started talking and we got really close. My parents were really wary of him since he was a foreigner who was ten years older than me and yeah. He brought up the Festival when we were hanging out and offered to bring me for that year.”

Rhamina smiled at the memory as they browsed the menu and continued, “I really wanted to go but I had to decline because I knew my parents would flat out say no. They didn’t even like the fact I was practicing magic, going to the Festival, the largest magic event ever, was out of the question.”

“But,” she continued, “somehow I came home from school one day, he was in my living room with my parents and they said I could go.”

“I’m still surprised they said yes,” Sophie said.

“I know,” Rhamina chuckled, “I was for sure that if I didn’t come home when I did, they would’ve killed him or something with the looks on their faces.”

Once the girls ordered talk of various topics mostly regarding magic filled their table.

“You talk so much about Asra,” Aurora chuckled, “What does he look like?”

“Well, he was a bit taller than me as I am now, so about five eight? Five seven, maybe?” Rhamina started, “He had golden brown skin, kind of like mine but more glowy, deep violet eyes, and fluffy white hair.”

“He sounds like a character from a book,” Tijarah commented causing the table to burst out in laughter.

“He was an attractive character that’s for sure,” Rhamina chuckled, “Too bad I was, you know ten when we first met. I can show you guys a picture when we get back.”

When the food arrived Rhamina put down her scarf so she could eat without it getting in the way.

Rhamina got a roll with eel and a sweet sauce on it along with miso soup and vegetable tempura since she was allergic to shrimp.

The food was quite good and the owners even gave them each a free dessert of their choice.

After they paid and left it was about eight in the evening and the girls decided to walk around a bit since they basically stayed inside all day.

Walking back up to the plaza they were all relieved to see the cross and doll from earlier gone leaving only a small hole in the sand where the cross was stuck.

“So anything else about the Festival we should know right now?” Kerstin asked as they sat down by a fountain.

“Not really since I’ll be teaching it to you guys when we start your training,” Rhamina said before noticing most of the stores were still open.

“You guys can go browse around for a bit,” Rhamina suggested, “It’s more lively here at night.”

“Fine by me,” Kerstin said standing, “Are you just going to be here?”

“Yep, knock yourselves out just meet back here by ten okay?” Rhamina smiled dipping her fingers into the fountain.

As the girls dispersed Rhamina turned her full attention to the fountain and she dried off her hand as the focused on the water.

To those trained in magic they could feel the shift in aura of the girl as a ball of water floated out of the fountain and in front of the girls face.

At her command it shifted into various shapes until in the water she saw a familiar pair of violet irises causing her to drop it in surprise.

Her head snapped behind her as she saw a rustle of plants from the corner of her eye.

Standing up to go inspect it she saw it lead to a small alleyway which held seemingly nothing.

She walked into the small space between buildings until she reached the back where she saw a white snake.

It was about the same length as her forearm and an upturned snout; which, allowed her to identify it as a Western Hognose snake. She also took notice of it’s light lavender patterning as she slowly approached it.

“Hey, Little One,” she cooed kneeling down as the snake curled into itself but not showing any other defensive or strike posture, “What are you doing here? You aren’t native to Pyget.”

She slowly brought her hand in front of the snake and it flicked it’s tongue out to smell her almost like a dog.

It made no noise as it slithered onto the female’s hand and wrapped itself around the appendage.

“Well looks like you’re mine now,” she chuckled bringing the snake to her face to see purple eyes instead of the normal red for this morph.

As she walked back to the fountain the snake seemed to survey its surroundings from its new, higher, point of view.

Rhamina spent the rest of her time waiting, playing with her new companion and gushing over how cute snakes were until her friends returned from their exploring.

When they did come back some of them had bags of things they bought like new clothes or little items they bought.

“Mina, we back,” Chloe exclaimed not noticing the reptile of the ravenette’s hand.

Actually, most of the group didn’t… Most of them.

“Ramen, what the fuck?!” Aurora gasped at the betrayal in front of her, “Why are you holding a legless lizard?!”

“Aurora, this is Snow,” Rhamina chirped holding up the snake as it flicked its tongue, “Isn’t he cute?”

“Rhamina!” Sophie exclaimed, “Did you just pick up a random snake?!”

“But he’s domestic,” Rhamina whined, “Western Hognoses aren’t native to Pyget, plus he’s a really rare morph. It would be a shame for him to just be in the wild where he would be easily spotted and killed.”

“Mina, where are you going to keep it?” Hannah asked as the ravenette stood up.

“There’s an old tank in the storage room of the shop and I have a heating mat there too since there used to be a lot of stray cats,” Rhamina said leading them back to the shop.

Once they arrived the girls got ready to go to sleep while Rhamina stayed downstairs grabbing the tank and heat mat before bringing it up to her room and setting it up with a small water dish on a desk near her bed.

“There you go, Snow,” Rhamina said letting the snake into the tank so she could get herself ready for bed.

Once she was done she went into the bathroom to wash her face, brush her teeth, and get dressed in a tank top and shorts to sleep in.

Getting into bed she wrapped herself up in blankets before drifting off to sleep.

From his spot, the snake easily exited the tank and slithered out of the room going into the card room before slithering into a small hole under the floorboards.

Once he returned to the tank he watched as the ravenette shifted to lie on her side, the moonlight shining over her face.

In the guest room, the girls were all up talking random shit until Kerstin asked, “Hey guys, want to go see if Mina is still up?”

“Sure,” Sophie said getting up from her spot on the floor as Kerstin grabbed a polaroid camera.

“...Kerstin?”

“Yes, Sophie?”

“Why are you bringing that?”

“Just in case Mina isn’t awake.”

“...”

“Y’all gonna die,” Tijarah commented as they walked down the hall.

As Kerstin opened the door the well oiled hinges made no sound.

They krept over to where the ravenette was laying, eyes closed and breathing even.

Kerstin let out a quiet snicker as she lifted the camera to her face.

Flash! Snap!

Golden orbs cut through the dark surroundings of the room as the two girls momentarily froze.

“Hi, Mina,” Kerstin chirped as she collected the film.

The ravenette said nothing as she lifted the covers off of her and Sophie exclaimed, “Run!”

The two girls ran back to their room and slammed the door and turned the lock just in time for Rhamina the run into the door with her shoulder.

“Holy shit what did you do?!” Sam asked as Kerstin and Sophie were laughing their asses off.

Kerstin just handed the brunette the partially developed photo as she struggled to breath.

“Oh my fucking god, you didn’t,” Sam said as she passed the photo onto Tijarah.

“But we did,” Sophie said regaining her breath, “It was worth it.”

“Aw, she’s so cute in this,” Tijarah gushed, “She is so adorable!”

“Guys, wait it’s too quiet,” Aurora said hudling with Chloe, “Ramen, is in angry mode right? Shouldn’t she be screaming through the door?”

The girls stopped talking as they stopped their talking to listen for the female’s voice only to hear silence.

They turned to the door only to jump at the sound of a crash and the appearance of a human-shaped shadow as night air entered the room.

“You think locking the door is gonna keep me out, Bitch?!” Rhamina exclaimed as she pulled herself into the room through the now open window.

“Holy shit, Mina, this is the second floor!” Hannah exclaimed as Sophie and Kerstin were trying to open the door again.

“That means nothing,” the ravenette seathed turning to the two teens, “Don’t you fucking pull that shit again!”

“Sophie, you’re the responsible one too, I’m disappointed,” Rhamina hissed opening the door for them.

“Mina, she is the one that decided to break the window,” Chloe reminded earning a sigh from the brunette.

“Listen, being there was a crime anyway, what was a little window breaking,” Sophie argued.

“You cut open your hand when you tried to vault yourself in, Sophie,” Sam deadpanned.

“Listen, Buddy-” “Good night, Assholes,” Rhamina sighed as she left the room to return to her own and maybe get some sleep.

                                      ~~~Fin.~~~

[prevdustinhendrsn]

The Palace

the party goes protesting | part 26 of Stories From Summer | 5.1k | AO3

a/n: here’s my contribution to SFS!! I really enjoyed writing this and also reading everyone else’s incredible stories. a lot of ya’ll changed urls so I tried to find the new ones as best I could. huge kudos to @mikeweezers for organizing this whole shebang; thank you Jazz!

June, 1985

“What the hell is this?” Dustin half shouts at Keith, the arcade employee who always seems to have a bag of chips with him.

“They’re tearing it down,” Keith says, his blue arcade shirt replaced with a Night Ranger one.

Max stares in disbelief at the SET FOR REMOVAL sign plastered over the chained door of the Palace Arcade. She’s known the arcade for all of eight months, yet the place was a safe haven for her, somewhere for her to go and zone out when life got to be too much. And if she’s feeling this devastated about it, she can only imagine how the rest of the party feels.

“Yeah, but why?” Lucas asks.

“Mayor Kline decided this ground would be better as a library.”

“But Hawkins already has a library!” Dustin protests.

“Yeah, and what about us?!” Mike adds. “We’re practically bankrolling this place!”

“Sorry, loser. The demolition is in a couple days - nothing I can do.” With that, Keith walks off, leaving the six of them staring dismayed at their second home.

“Shithead!” Dustin bellows after him.

“Unbelievable,” Max says, scuffing at the grass with her boot.

“Unbelievable,” Eleven agrees. Max glances sideways at her, wondering if she actually knows what the word means. Max is sure she does (she isn’t stupid) but lately she had taken to imitating some of the things Max said or did in an effort to adjust and be a normal teenager. It doesn’t bother Max as much as she thought it would.

“We can’t just let it close,” Will says.

“Thanks, Captain Obvious,” Max drawls.

“What do we do, then?” Lucas asks.

They stand in silence until an idea slowly starts to form in Max’s mind.

“In California, in Bellflower a couple years ago – they were going to close the pool,” she starts. A smile crosses her face as the memory of California and her home resurfaces. “They were going to get rid of it to make room for a car wash. But nobody wanted it to close, so a group of high schoolers literally chained themselves to the fence and stayed there for three days straight.”

“Did they win?” Dustin asks.

“Um – no. But they only had a few people. There’s six of us, and all the middle schoolers will want to help, right?”

Will shrugs. “Maybe. Isn’t this sort of illegal though?”

Mike snorts. “Who cares about illegal, Hopper’s sleeping with Will’s mom so he has to let us do what we want.”

There’s a loud laugh from Dustin and Lucas and a mild complaint from Will, but otherwise they don’t disagree. Max looks at El, who has stayed silent, eyes glued to the clouds in the sky.

“El? You in?” she asks.

El’s head snaps down and she nods fervently like she’s been paying attention all along. “Yes! Yes, I want to help.”

Max looks around at them, grinning, glad to have a purpose. “Looks like we’ve got a plan, guys.”

Preparing everything for their thirty-six-hour stakeout takes several days and more arguments than Max anticipated. Convincing Hopper and Joyce to let El and Will stay out (and chain themselves to the doors of an arcade, no less) is a feat that Max feels rather proud of having accomplished. Sure, it takes some coercion and maybe a white lie or two about how Steve, a responsible adult, is definitely, totally going to be there the whole time, but they get through eventually.

“Okay, now we have to get the chains,” Mike says as the party huddles around the table in his swelteringly hot basement on the second day of their planning. “And someone needs to tell Steve to either stay with us or stay away from Joyce and the Chief.”

“We might want some food, too,” Max says. “Maybe some sleeping bags?”

“I can’t believe we’re actually going through with this,” Will groans. El shrugs, clearly just happy to be allowed out of the cabin for a whole night.

“And we need the rest of the kids from the middle school,” Lucas adds, ignoring Will’s complaint.

“Alright, Dustin and Will, you guys go round up as many kids as you can find – from the pool, the library, their houses, whatever. Me and El will get the chains and the locks and the snacks and all that. Lucas, Max, you go talk to Steve.” Mike steps back after he finishes doling out instructions and Max has to admire how well he leads their group. “Everyone clear?”

They all voice their assent and slowly filter out the back door, splitting up. Max jumps on her skateboard and easily keeps pace with Lucas on his bike as they head down the street towards Steve’s house.

“This was a good idea, Max,” Lucas says offhandedly. Max smiles, brushing the sweat off her forehead with the back of her hand. This June could give California a run for its money, she thinks.

“Thanks. I just – I really love that arcade, and I know you guys do too.”

“Yeah...I just don’t know how much Steve loves it.”

“You want to what?” Steve shouts after they hastily explain their plan. Max rolls her eyes impatiently.

“What we’re doing doesn’t really matter. We just need you to avoid Hopper and Joyce on Wednesday and Thursday, okay?”

“You’re seriously going to chain yourselves to a building while they demolish it?”

“They’re not going to demolish it because we’re going to stop them,” Lucas says.

“You guys are insane.”

Max shrugs. “The mayor’s obviously not going to help, so someone’s gotta do it.” Steve stares at them for a long time before finally letting out the heaviest sigh in existence.

“Yeah, whatever. I’ll stay out of Joyce’s and Hopper’s way. But that doesn’t mean I condone this, dumbasses.”

The six of them spend the next day rallying kids. Will draws up a flier and after Jonathan helps them print a hundred copies of it, they divvy the pages up between them and run around town in pairs, handing them out and explaining their cause. By evening they’ve got a good majority of the middle school and even some high schools promising to come. Max collapses into her bed that night completely worn out. She falls asleep instantly, a bit of copier ink still smudged across her cheek.

Max is the last to show up at the Palace on Wednesday afternoon. Everyone else is already there, fifty or so kids scattered across the front porch, slowly getting chained to the support poles and handrails by her friends. She quickly locates Lucas and dashes up to him as he slides two links of chain through a padlock.

“Hey, sorry I’m late.”

“Hey, Zoomer. Don’t worry, we’re almost done. Our protest officially starts in fifteen minutes.” Lucas nods towards the front doors, where Eleven is sat underneath the fat red SET FOR REMOVAL sign. Max gives Lucas a quick kiss on the cheek and heads over to El.

“El! You ready?”

El nods solemnly, her nose a fantastic shade of sunburn red. “Ready.”

Max takes a length of chain from one of the many piles stacked around them and locks her skateboard to a handrail. Then she sits down next to El, and after a few minutes, the rest of the party joins her.

“You sure you guys want to do this?” Will asks nervously, taking a seat next to Mike. On Mike’s other side is El, then Max, then Lucas and Dustin.

“Absolutely,” Dustin says. “We’re going to take that bastard mayor down.”

“But chains?”

“It makes a statement,” Mike says.

“Where did you get all these chains anyways, Mike?” Max asks, eyeing the nearest length suspiciously.

“Nancy. She had loads leftover from ’83.”

Two minutes to noon, Mike gets to his feet and locks all of them up to the handles and beams around the front doors, handing each kid the key to their padlock. Max tries to make herself comfortable, but she’s already accepted that, between the heavy chains wrapped around her torso and legs and the concrete beneath her, it’s not going to be a pleasant thirty-six hours. Thankfully Mike leaves everyone’s arms free, and each kid has a bag of snacks with them. Most of the kids said they’d be going home for the night, but that doesn’t matter much to Max – it’s in the morning when the numbers will matter most.

Mike sits down and, with the help of El and Will, chains himself in. He glances at his watch with a smile. “It’s noon. We’re starting.”

Dustin grins. “This is gonna be worth every minute.”

“I’m having second thoughts,” Dustin moans. Max sighs, almost ready to voice her agreement. She’s never been so sweaty and bored in her life. So far, it’s been about as eventful as watching the news with her mom.

“Guys, come on, it’s only been three hours,” Will says.

“Only three?” Lucas asks in disbelief. They all let out a groan.

They munch on their snacks and pass around the one comic book that Will brought as the time slips by, each minute seemingly longer than the last. They unchain themselves every hour to stretch and use the bathroom in the (wonderfully air-conditioned) gas station across the street. They don’t encounter any police officers, thanks to Hopper, but several mothers throw dirty looks their way - not that it bothers Max (there’s very little that bothers Max). She’d flip them off if she could get away with it.

“I spy…something orange,” Mike says, bringing Max’s attention back to their game of I Spy. Desperate times, desperate measures.

“Is it my hair?” she says.

“Damn. Your turn.”

Max casts her eyes about the scene around them, finally landing on a green car pulling into the parking lot. “I spy something green.”

“Dustin’s booger? God, Dustin, get that out of here,” Lucas groans, pressing into Max’s side in an attempt to evade the product of Dustin’s nose. Dustin winces and digs a tissue out of his backpack.

“Is it that kid’s shirt, Max?” Will asks, pointing to his right. Max shakes her head. Eleven raises a hand and points directly the the car. Max lifts an eyebrow.

“Yeah, actually, it is the car. Your turn, El.”

“No, look.”

Max follows El’s line of sight. Jonathan Byers and Nancy Wheeler have just stepped out of the car and are currently walking towards them, a dozen grocery bags in their hands. She leans across El to swat Mike and Will. “Hey, sibling alert.”

Nancy and Jonathan carefully step between the piles of kids to reach Max and the others. Nancy surveys them with a small smile. “Going strong, I guess?”

“Something like that,” Mike answers distractedly, poking at the plastic sacks. “What’s in the bags?”

Nancy drops them next to him and El helps pass several down the line. “Fuel. I figured Mom didn’t give you anything good.”

Jonathan nudges Will’s shin with his foot. “Mom really letting you stay out all night, huh?”

“Yeah, can you believe it? But why are you in her car?”

“Steve’s working on mine.”

From the far end, Dustin lets out a cheer. Max looks over to see that he’s discovered a massive bucket of Red Vines in one of the bags. “Nancy, you’re my hero,” he says, biting off the top halves of four Vines at once.

Nancy looks at him bemusedly. “Yeah, well, just try not to get killed by a wrecking ball tomorrow, okay?”

“Hey,” Mike says, grabbing Jonathan’s attention. “If you see your mom or Hopper, tell them Steve’s with us.”

Jonathan’s eyebrows furrow. “But he isn’t.”

“Well, they think he is, so just –“

Nancy rolls her eyes and grabs Jonathan’s hand. “We got it. We’ll cover for you. Good luck, guys.”

As they head back to their car and pull away, Max leans forward, gesturing for the Vines bucket. “Dude, share the love.”

The sun finally decides to set, which is both a relief and a misery as it cools the air and brings out the mosquitoes. Some high school girl pulls out a can of bug spray but by the time it makes its rounds to Max, it’s empty. She leans against the door and tilts her head to the deep purple sky. It doesn’t look anything like California sunsets. Here the colors are paler, less intense, more blended together, but it’s still beautiful in its own way, she decides.

She had expected all their buzz to die down with the sun, but if anything it’s the exact opposite. Everyone is ramped up on Twinkies and soda, excited that they’re spending a night outside home. It’s something about the exhilarating feeling of defiance and Max can’t deny she’s enjoying herself. El finds several packages of glowsticks inside one of Nancy’s grocery bags and goes absolutely ballistic when Will cracks one and it lights up bright pink. There’s all different kinds – sticks, necklaces, bracelets – in all different colors and enough for every kid there to have plenty. They start a take two and pass it down chain and by the time Max’s watch reads 11pm, the sky is black and the arcade’s exterior is lit up with kids laughing and talking in glowing neon colors.

“I wish we could get up and dance,” El says wistfully.

“To what music?” Will asks.

They’re all silent for a moment, and then a grin lights up Dustin’s face. “I know a song.”

Max whips around to look at him. “Dustin, I swear to god, if this is another one of your dumbass camp songs –“

“Ninety-nine bottles of beer on the wall, ninety-nine bottles of beer! You take one down, pass it around, ninety-eight bottles of beer on the wall!”

The song comes out of Dustin’s mouth at max volume and immediately hooks the rest of the kids in. Max’s protests are only half-hearted – not a minute later the entire lot is singing along at the top of their lungs, swaying in their spots on the concrete, waving their glowsticks in the air, and Lucas is elbowing her, grinning at her, and she finally breaks and bellows along with them.

“Ninety-six bottles of beer on the wall, ninety-six bottles of beer! You take one down, pass it around, ninety-five bottles of beer on the wall! Ninety-five bottles of beer on the wall, ninety-five bottles of beer…”

Max croaks out at thirty-two bottles. Most of the kids die out between forty and twenty; in the end it’s a yelling contest between Mike and a junior boy that Max can’t even see. They both make it to the end and receive an outstanding applause from everyone.

“It’s midnight, is anyone going home?” Will asks once they’ve calmed down and recovered their breath. Max’s high from the combined sugar, glowsticks, and singing has finally worn off – she’s exhausted.

“None of us are, right?” Dustin asks, referring to the party.

“No, but I know some of the other kids wanted to go or weren’t allowed to stay.”

Mike lets out the bathroom-break whistle and there’s a loud jangling as everyone pulls out their keys to unlock themselves. Max gets to her feet and stretches her arms above her head as high as they’ll go.

“Mike, maybe we could forget the chains for the night?” El suggests, examining the deep red grooves left on her legs by the links.

“If I gotta pee, I don’t wanna wake everyone up to do it,” Lucas agrees. Mike shrugs.

“Yeah, sure. We can put them back on in the morning.” He turns to address the rest of the group. “Hey, it’s midnight – whoever wants to go home can now, just make sure you’re here at nine tomorrow!”

“Bathroom?” Will says, dropping the last of his chains on the ground.

“God, yes,” comes the party’s reply.

When they return from the gas station, the arcade is empty. Completely, entirely empty, the only sign of their protest being the piles of chains, candy wrappers, and glowsticks scattered around the place. Max gapes at the scene.

“Are you serious?” she asks of no one in particular.

“I can’t believe every single one of them left,” Lucas says.

With a shared sigh they move forward through the desolate remains, picking up all the trash and collecting the still-lit glowsticks in a bag. Dustin and El drag all of the chains into a massive pile in a corner and Mike dumps all the locks and keys into his backpack. When Max asks how he plans on matching each key and lock later on, he just shrugs tiredly. She gets it – they’re all feeling a mild sense of defeat.

“It’s just tonight,” El says reassuringly. “They’ll come back tomorrow.” They’re all too tired to argue.

Max collapses back into her spot, shoving her pillow under her head and crawling into the sleeping bag she brought. She hasn’t used it in ages; it still has the smell of Yosemite, from back when she and her dad would go camping every other weekend. The memory is bittersweet and she pushes it aside.

Her friends settle around her in their own sleeping bags. It isn’t comfortable by any means but she has Lucas right next to her and telekinetic El on her other side, and she forces herself to think of it as a group sleepover with concrete instead of carpet. The dull warmth of the night slowly washes over them, strengthening the sound of the loud cicadas that never seem to cease and the occasional noise from down the street that makes Max startle from her sleepy haze.

After a few minutes, she reaches out to find Lucas’ hand. He’s right there, his soft breath brushing her cheek. “Hey, Zoomer,” he whispers.

“Stalker,” she says with a sleepy smile, even though she knows he can’t see it.

“You tired?”

“That’s an understatement.”

“Yeah. Me too.”

They lay there in silence, all of Max’s slowly fading consciousness focused on Lucas’ warm hand in hers. Sleep…sleep…sleep…sleep…

“Is she snoring?”

Dustin’s outburst breaks sleep’s hold on everyone and there’s a collective groan. “Screw you, Henderson,” Max mumbles, just to top it off.

“Yes, Dustin, she’s snoring, alright?” Mike says defensively. “She does that. It’s cute. Leave her alone.”

A moment later there’s a loud snore from El and a barely-suppressed laugh from everyone.

“Can we get back to sleep now?” Mike says impatiently. Dustin huffs from Lucas’ other side.

“Yeah, yeah, sorry, whatever.”

Max jolts awake, extremely disoriented. What the hell? She brings her watch to her eyes, wincing at the harsh light: 3:15am. Why am I awake?

She quietly sits up. The night slowly comes into view as her eyes adjust to the light provided by the streetlamps. Nothing looks out of place – all her friends are in line beside her, the streets are empty. Everything is quiet, save for El’s and Dustin’s (ironic) snores.

She’s about to shrug it off and go back to sleep when a rustling reaches her ears. She whips around to face the forest behind the arcade, straining to see anything in the darkness. There it is again – the crunch of leaves somewhere in the forest. Normal, sure, if there was wind. Which there isn’t,she thinks, dread gnawing a hole in her stomach. The noise in the forest gets louder, closer, accompanied now with the snapping of twigs. She still can’t see a damn thing.

A jagged, painful scene arises in her mind’s eye – the metallic scent of blood, the screeching of monsters outside, the intense, sharp fear that shuts down all motor functions. Not now, Mayfield. Get it together. This isn’t ‘84. With a tight swallow she pushes away the memory and shakes El. “Hey, El. El, get up.”

El is up and alert in a split second. “Yes?”

“I think there’s something out there,” Max whispers.

They both stare at the tree line, waiting with their hearts pounding in their chests. El makes a move to stand up, but at that moment, something darts out of the trees. Something small, fast, and most definitely cat-shaped.

Max slumps back against the doors with a heavy sigh. “Just a cat.”

“Are you sure?” El says, eyes following the cat’s path down the street.

“Yeah. Sorry.”

El shrugs like it’s no big deal, settling back down in her cocoon of blankets. Max stares at the spot across the street where the cat disappeared, waiting for her heart to return to its normal rate. After a minute she pulls her sleeping bag up around her then grabs her pillow and shoves it behind her head; laying down isn’t an option for her rattled nerves anymore.

“Are you okay?” El whispers. Max looks down at her – all she can see are her eyes.

“Yeah. Fine.”

“I know what you were thinking.”

Max winces. “Kinda hard not to think anything else these days.”

“You can talk to me,” El says softly, sincerely.

“I know. I’m just – I’m working through it.”

“When it gets bad, Hopper tells me to take it one day at a time.”

Max nods and takes a deep breath, closing her eyes. “One day at a time."

El’s hand finds its way into Max’s and she squeezes it reassuringly. “Goodnight, Max.”

“Night, El.”

And Max drifts off quicker than she thought she would.

“Oh my god, my neck, my neck, my goddamn neck, my head’s going to be stuck this way for life.” Max slowly and painfully turns her head side to side, cringing at how bad the crick is. Her complaints wake up Mike, who lets out an even longer string of curses at his own neck troubles. Max looks around for her pillow – there it is, wedged between her thigh and Lucas’ head, having fallen in the middle of the night. With a sigh she leans forward to snatch it back, elbowing Lucas in the process. “Shit, sorry –“

Lucas responds with a grunt and doesn’t move a muscle.

The sun has barely crested the horizon yet Max can already feel the heat of the day creeping up on them. The town is still sleeping, the only open places being the bakery and the gas station. She shifts to lie down on top of her sleeping bag and dozes in and out for a while. Around eight-thirty she’s finally dragged to her feet by both the party and her bladder.

Mike lets out a yawn as he pulls a sleepy El up. “Bathroom and breakfast,” he says. They nod and make their way to the gas station, taking turns in the bathroom. After a stop in the bakery for two dozen donuts and some juices, they collapse back in their spots at the arcade, eating in silence as the sun begins its arc across the sky.

The kids start to trickle in at nine. By ten, everyone from yesterday is back, their sleeping gear has been shoved to the side, and Mike has all of them chained up again.

“We don’t back down, alright guys?” he says to the group at large. “We’re saving this arcade whether they like it or not.”

There’s a roar of approval from the kids and then Mike sits back down and locks himself up.

“Anyone know when the demolition is supposed to happen?” Dustin asks, licking his fingers clean of donut sugar.

“Ten-thirty, I think,” Mike answers. Max looks at him skeptically – the truth is, none of them really know how this is going to go. At the very best, they win their protest without argument. At the most likely, they win with quite a bit of argument. At the worst, they get thrown in jail, and at the very worst, they get killed by the demolition equipment (which Max knows is highly improbable, but after the events of ’84, she can’t help herself).

“We’ll win,” El says, as if reading Max’s mind. “I can feel it.”

It doesn’t do much to reassure any of them.

Soon enough, the construction company trucks pull into the empty parking lot and a dozen workers in orange helmets spill out. Their expressions of confusion clearly indicate they weren’t expecting resistance (it’s Hawkins – who is?). Max sits up a little straighter and glares right at them.

“You kids know you can’t be here, right?” the pot-bellied Man In Charge says.

“Actually, we can,” Max answers. “We have the right to protest.”

“Girl, I’ve got a job to do.”

“We don’t care,” Mike fires back. “Tell your boss we aren’t going anywhere.”

The Man In Charge lets out a heavy sigh and turns back to his crew. “Someone drive back to the building to tell the boss we’ve got a holdup.”

Max grins – it’s progress. The demolition crew piles back into their air-conditioned trucks to wait while one of their team is sent off to bring backup. The sun is relentless, bearing down on them like a hundred-pound weight of heat. Max pulls her hair into a ponytail and drains another one of the water bottles that Nancy brought them.

“Where’s the wrecking ball?” Will asks.

“I don’t think they can bring it until they have visual confirmation of the site,” Lucas says.

“Maybe they won’t bring it at all if we can stop them,” El adds hopefully.

Fifteen minutes later the company truck pulls back in. Three people climb out – the worker, the head of the company, and Mayor Kline himself. Max almost laughs – old man Mayor in an ill-fitting black suit doesn’t look like much of a threat to her. All of the kids swivel to glower at him, radiating defiance.

“What’s going on here?” he says jovially as he approaches them.

“We’re protesting the destruction of the Palace Arcade,” Mike declares.

“You’re – well, yes, I can see that. But the papers have already been signed, son. There’s nothing I can do.”

“Looks like we’re at a stalemate, then,” Max says smugly. “Because we want this arcade to stay just as much as you want it to go.”

There’s a shout of agreement from the kids around them. Mayor Kline looks more annoyed than angry, but just as he opens his mouth to say something else, another car pulls into the lot, drawing everyone’s attention.

It’s the Chief’s station wagon. The entire party’s breath catches in their throat as Hopper gets out and leisurely heads towards them. Is he here to stop us or help us? Max wonders.

“Sheriff!” Mayor Kline says by way of greeting. “Do you know about this?”

Hopper side-eyes the mayor. “It’s Chief. And yeah, I did.” Hopper turns his gaze to El. “Steve’s here, huh?”

El turns bright red at being caught in their lie. “Sorry.”

Hopper just shakes his head amusedly and pulls off his sunglasses, turning to Kline. “You’re really gonna tear this place down for another library?”

Kline stares at him, clearly taken aback by whose side he’s on. “I mean – nobody even goes to this arcade anymore –“

“That’s bullshit!” Dustin yells. Lucas slaps him and Hopper gives him a you better shut the hell up right now or I’m not helping you glare.

Will tries a calmer approach than Dustin. “Mayor, everyone comes here all the time. It’s one of the best places in Hawkins, right guys?” There’s a loud chorus of agreement and Will gives a winning smile. “We love it here.”

“See, Larry? They love it here,” Hopper says, lowering his voice so that Max has to strain to hear. “Look. I know what you’re getting out of this deal, even if you’ve bullshitted the county board into thinking it’s out of the goodness of your heart. ”

Max’s jaw drops as Kline’s eyes widen and his hands start fidgeting with his tie. “I don’t – I mean – it’s not – I really don’t understand what you’re trying to say, Sher – Chief.”

Hopper smirks. “Yeah, I think you do. And I don’t think the board would be too eager to support your reelection campaign next month if they knew how big a cut you’d be taking from this.”

Mayor Kline gapes at him. “Are you blackmailing me?” Hopper raises his hands in a conciliatory gesture.

“All I’m saying is that it’s probably in your best interest to leave this place standing.”

Max is triple-taking. She looks at the rest of her friends, just to make sure she’s not imagining things – they’re shell-shocked too, frozen in place at this turn of events.

Kline is absolutely speechless. His eyes dart from Hopper to the construction crew to the arcade and back, sweat beading on his forehead – though Max thinks that could just be from the heat. She doesn’t even know if anyone’s breathing anymore.

Finally, Kline heaves a sigh and turns to the truck. He pulls a few sheets of paper out through the window and returns to Hopper. “Looks like you win this one, kids.” He resignedly tears the demolition contract in half and the entire lot erupts in shouts and cheers as the pieces flutter to the ground.

“We did it!” Dustin yells, reaching out to hug whoever he can. Max grins as she hugs Lucas with one arm and attempts to get out of her chains with the other. They finally get themselves untangled and rush through the crowd towards Hopper. Mayor Kline is nowhere to be found.

“Thank you so much, Hopper,” Mike says breathlessly. “I don’t think we could’ve won that without you.”

“El told me how important this was to you guys,” Hopper answers with a smile. “And I knew Kline had something shady going on.”

“How could you be positive, though?” Lucas asks.

“Had some help.” Hopper points to his station wagon and they all turn to see Nancy Wheeler, junior clerk at the city hall, standing by the door with a grin on her face. Max internally smacks herself – of course it was Nancy. She makes a mental note to thank her later.

Max pushes through the kids to yank the red SET FOR REMOVAL sign off the front doors. She holds it high above her head and with a loud cheer, throws it to the ground. “We saved the Palace!”

Thus begins the thundering chant of “We saved the Palace!” from every soul and Lucas appears from the crowd, grinning like the sun.

“Good job, Mayfield.”

“I didn’t do it for you,” Max says. “I did it so I could keep on kicking your ass at Dig Dug.”

Lucas scoffs and grabs her wrist to pull her close. “Just you wait. I’m getting better.”

“Sure you are.”

She closes the distance between them and their kiss echoes all the triumph and celebration around them. Somewhere over the fireworks in her head, Mike declares they all deserve celebratory ice cream, and when Lucas pulls away and beams at her with more pride and love than she’s ever seen, she’s never felt more like a winner.

tagging the whole sfs gang

@mikeweezers / @el-and-hop / @summer-in-hawkins / @martiegalwrites / @partwayhappy / @she-who-the-river-could-not-hold / @cstlebyrs / @janeswheeler / @formerlyjannafaye / @jane-el-hopper / @themikewheelers / @elizabthturner / @the-proud-princess / @itcouldbendoritcouldbreak / @scottsclarke / @the-most-beautiful-broom / @hannahberrie / @dancingskygreen / @mileven-and-contemplation / @eddieksgazebos / @mikeswheelers / @moodyandmoonyeyed / @jopper-chopper / @earlgreyteagirl / @janehoppers / @michael-hearteyes-wheeler / @stevemossington / @thezoomermax / @writer-lia

[11jj11]

Far From Yesterday - Ch 4 - Marissonshipping

Enjoy chapter four!

   Mairin spent the rest of the morning laying down on the couch, her stomach churning. Max had brought Chespie down from her old room, and the grass type had refused to leave her side since. She had been unable to eat another bite of food, however she did occasionally sip from the water Absol forced people to bring in for her.

   She also had a bowl near her in case she threw up again, but nothing worse happened than her stomach twisting about.

   She just couldn’t bring her body to calm down, clearly too overwhelmed by what was happening to her. She just laid there, not having the will to move as Chespie gently rubbed her back with his giant claws. The action was soothing, and the only thing that made an attempt to distract her mind from what was really happening.

   She looked down at her arms, staring at the twisting white marks that ran up them. She traced her finger up one, the marks going all the way to her shoulder. She frowned– it looked so unnatural– as if she had wrapped ribbons around her arms and had then stood out in the sun. She ran her hand across the twin marks on her other arm, but yet she got no hint to where they had come from.

   She leaned over, still feeling painfully sick, but the realization was worse. There was just so many questions she had, and no answers that she liked to explain it. The reality of what she was facing hurt.

   She was missing several years worth of memories.

   Her stomach shifted unhappily at the thought, and she pressed her eyes shut.

   What was she supposed to do?

   “My wife doesn’t joke around!” A sharp voice echoed from down the hallway, and Mairin flinched. Amber eyes flickered open as Alain walked into the room, talking to someone on the phone. “I need to bring her in as soon as possible.”

   He didn’t seem to notice that Mairin was in the same room as him. He paused, listening to the other end of the phone.

   “Yes, I did call her regular doctor– and he’s the one that told me to contact you,” Alain said, gritting his teeth.

   Mairin sat up slightly, blood rushing to her head at this action. She watched Alain, who had started pacing the length of the sitting room. Mairin wondered if everything was flowing smoothly in the main part of the lab– since both she and Alain weren’t working at the moment.

   ...She did still work here, correct? Mairin’s mind started racing, what if she worked somewhere else? Perhaps that’s why Max had been hired, to replace her? Clearly Alain still was involved with the lab, since he had the white lab coat on.

   “I’m not waiting a month,” Alain growled into the phone. He paused from his pacing, back turned towards her. Chespie put an arm around her, and she could dimly hear mumblings coming from the other end of Alain’s phone. “...Fine. We’ll do that. Schedule her in as soon as possible.”

   More mumblings from the phone, just quiet enough so Mairin couldn’t pick out what they were saying.

   “Thank you. We’ll be there,” Alain said, and then he hung up the phone. His knuckles were white as he slipped it away into his lab coat, jaw gritting together as he let out a frustrated sigh. Mairin watched as he ran a hand through his hair, muttering under his breath. “For Yveltal’s sake...”

   Mairin parted her dry lips, but she couldn’t find the desire to speak. Ruby and Chespie watched her for a moment, their eyes urging her to say something. But she could only stare up at Alain, still in disbelief at what was taking place. Now that she was really watching him, she could pick out several differences from what she remembered. Nothing drastic, but clearly he carried himself differently than the Alain she had known.

   “Mairin,” Alain said, sounding startled as he turned around. Blue eyes met amber, and she looked away. “I didn’t realize that you were there,” He looked over her pale form, and the blanket draped over her, and his eyes narrowed. “You look sick! Did something happen while I was on the phone?”

   Mairin gulped, forcing herself to speak. “I’m f-fine... just overwhelmed...”

   Alain nodded, shifting uncertainly. “That’s understandable... considering what’s happening...” He hesitated, studying the way she curled up slightly. Alain closed his eyes, looking like he was stopping himself from flinching. “...I can tell that you’re still not comfortable around me. I’ll leave.”

   Mairin jerked her head up– but before she could say another word he was out the door, heading off to another part of the lab. Mairin stared at where he had been moments before, her hand halfway lifted to stop him. She sat there for a moment, before letting the limb fall to the couch. She closed her eyes, laying back down.

   She... she wasn’t scared of him... he didn’t have to leave.... She wasn’t scared of her best friend...

   She was scared of the fact that he was her husband– but not him! She was upset at what he had said to her... years ago– but not at the person he was now!

   “A-alain...” Mairin whispered weakly, wanting him to come back.

   She wanted her best friend. She wanted her big brother.

   Tears stung her eyes– Alain wasn’t that person anymore. When he looked at her he wouldn’t see her as a little sister that needed comforting, but as a wife. Alain wouldn’t see his best friend, but a spouse.

   She wrapped her arms around her, and Chespie draped the blanket over her as she started crying. She was starting to realize just how terrified she was– because the person she was closest to wouldn’t see her in the way that would comfort her. A new relationship had been formed, one that she didn’t know or want. The Alain she wanted wasn’t here, and the one she remembered had left painful memories.

   And Mairin felt more alone than ever.

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

   Mairin’s appetite had managed to return somewhat by dinner time, and her empty stomach was more than happy to join everyone around the dining room table. She was still wearing the same outfit she had woken up in, but Chespie had brought her the green jacket she had seen in Alain’s room this morning.

   It was clearly hers, since it fit her just right, but still Mairin pushed the thought of where it had been out of her mind. Instead she awkwardly sat at the edge of her chair, staring down at her hands. She studied the finger where the ring had been, and wondered what had happened to it. She had left it on the table, but it clearly wasn’t here anymore.

   She was just glad that no one had tried to give it back.

   Dinner was served up in silence– no one seemed to know what to say. Mairin was sure that she had somehow disturbed the normal seating arrangements– but she had sat herself between Sophie and Cosette, refusing to move. She and Cosette took up one end of the table, Alain and Max on the other. The professor and Sophie sat on each end of the table, looking over their lab family in silence.

   Mairin had a feeling that she was usually next to Alain, but right now she wasn’t even sitting across from him.

   “Mairin,” Cosette said after several minutes. “You need to eat something.”

   Mairin was jerked out of her thoughts, and that’s when she realized that she had done nothing but chase her food around her plate with a fork. She gave an uncertain smile, before stabbing her fork into the ravioli and raising it to her mouth. She had to choke the food down, the smell of the ravioli overwhelming her as she tried to eat.

   But still she managed to get through dinner with only several side glances being thrown her way.

   “Were you able to get a hold of anyone, Alain?” Professor Sycamore asked, breaking the silence.

   “...Dr. Tambert,” Alain replied in an colder tone. “His assistant wasn’t too bright, but the doctor himself gave us an appointment for tomorrow. Basically just a quick check up, to see what he’s working with, then we’ll schedule another and longer appointment from there.”

   Alain shoved a forkful of salad into his mouth, chewing it as if it had just insulted his mother.

   Professor Sycamore nodded. “Sounds good, we’ll just have to take things easy until tomorrow,” He smiled across at everyone. “I am putting all major research projects on hold, for now we just need to keep this lab running, and make sure Pokemon and trainers are taken care of, but actual research can wait.”

   “No,” Mairin said softly. “Don’t stop everything because of me.”

   He gave her a gentle smile. “Mairin, you were involved with several of those projects, we wouldn’t be able to carrying them on without you. Also, I think it would be best if we weren’t weighed down with anything else right now.”

   Mairin looked down guilty– because of her the lab’s projects were being stopped. Her grip on her fork tightened slightly, just because her life was messed up didn’t mean that it had to interfere with everyone else’s.

   “Do we have a cot laying around by chance?” Alain asked, looking at Professor Sycamore.

   “A cot?”

   He shrugged. “If not I’ll just take a sleeping bag then, I know we have plenty of those.”

   “You are not thinking of leaving!” Sophie exclaimed, and Alain rolled his eyes.

   “No, of course I’m not leaving,” He muttered, pushing his last few bites of food about his plate. “But I am going to need somewhere to sleep tonight.”

   Professor Sycamore frowned. “You will sleep in a bed like everyone else in this lab.”

   Alain glared at him. “There are six of us in this lab, but only four beds. That worked out just fine before all this, but I will not make Mairin share a bed with me. She’ll take our room, and I’ll camp out in the main room or something.”

   Mairin’s eyes widened– she may have disrupted the work of the lab, but no one was going to be kicked out of their room because she lost her memories. “No. I’ll take a sleeping bag,” Mairin said quietly. “You keep your bed and your room.”

   Alain glared in her direction. “It’s not mine, it’s ours– and there’s no way I’m making you take the ground with your condition. You will have the bed.”

   Mairin shook her head. “No, I want you to have it.”

   Alain’s expression darkened. “You are taking the bed– and that’s final.”

   Mairin flinched, her eyes quickly darting down to her plate. Shivers ran through her, but her voice fled. She couldn’t sleep in Alain’s room, no matter whose it was now, she only saw it as Alain’s room...

   “Enough,” Professor Sycamore said. “I’m pretty sure we have a spare mattress up in the attic of this place, and we have plenty of clean sheets. After cleaning up dinner me and Max can go up there and bring it down,” Sycamore glanced at Mairin. “Would you be most comfortable in your old room?”

   She gave a short nod. “Y-yes.”

   “Alright,” Professor Sycamore gave a pointed glare at Alain. “That’s settled then. No one is taking the floor, and Mairin will be in her old room. Everyone is in a bed, and in a familiar place,” He sighed. “Alain, you help Mairin move some of her stuff from your room, you’ll know what she’ll need.”

   “We’ll clean up,” Sophie said. “No need for you guys to worry about the kitchen.”

   Max scowled. “No, we’ll help you guys clean up dinner.”

   Cosette laughed. “We’d much rather clean up then haul a bed around– you boys have fun with that,” She flashed Sophie a grin, and the two females giggled like they were teenagers. “Oh, and don’t you worry about anything Mairin, you just rest.”

   “I want to help,” Mairin said– just because she was missing memories didn’t mean she couldn’t do anything.

   “You can help me move your stuff,” Alain said. “Decide what you’ll want in your room.”

   “O-okay,” Mairin whispered– through her insides shriveled as she realized she was going to be alone with Alain.

   Everyone finished dinner in silence.

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

   “...Right side of the closet is your stuff, left’s mine– same with the dresser,” Alain explained as he opened the door to his room. “I’ll go hunting for a dresser or something to put in your old room tomorrow– but for now just grab the clothes you’ll want for tonight and tomorrow.”

   “O-okay,” Mairin whispered as Alain walked into the room, however she lingered by the doorway. Her eyes flickered about the room she had woken up in, shivering. Her eyes shifted to the queen bed, and she flinched.

   Alain had pulled a wicker basket down from a shelf, opening the lid and peering in. He set in on the bed, then headed over to the desk, grabbing a brush that was laying there. He headed back towards the basket, placing it in, before looking at Mairin.

   “You can come in here,” Alain said. “This is your room too.”

   Mairin hesitantly stepped in, before heading over towards the closet. She slid the closet doors to the side, and as promised they were filled with clothes. She frowned as she looked over the feminine half of the closet, trying to look for anything remotely familiar, something to show this was hers. She shifted through the various outfits, but was startled to find that most of the items weren’t things she even recognized. Surely she hadn’t changed sizes that much in the last few years! And it wasn’t like she was someone that had to have the latest fashion...

   She paused as she noticed a green hat tucked away on the back of a shelf. She smiled, pulling it out as she studied it. It was old and worn, but probably would still fit her, even if it was from when she was ten. She brushed off from dust, knowing that she’d never wear something like this now days, but having something familiar was comforting. It wasn’t hard to spot a backpack after that, and she sat the hat in the bottom of the bag, before looking for something suitable to wear.

   She settled for a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt to wear to bed, knowing just how cold she could get at night, and then jeans with a nicer shirt for tomorrow. She set them into the bag, feeling uncertain, and she had to keep telling herself that these clothes were hers, and that they would fit. Mairin then turned towards the dresser that sat along one wall, but paused as she reached for one of the drawers that Alain said was hers.

   She looked back at him, heart racing.

   He was watching her, having the wicker basket in one hand, and several other items in the other. “That’s yours,” He said with a nod, probably thinking that she was unsure about the drawers. “You can open it.”

   Mairin stared down at her feet, shifting. “Um...”

   “Oh,” Alain said after a moment, realizing where her hesitancy was coming from. He quickly headed towards the door. “...Sorry. I’ll wait outside.”

   Mairin shivered slightly, but pulled open the drawer, searching for the last clothing items she’d need. She stuffed them into the bottom of the backpack, before zipping it up. She shouldered the bag, looking about the room one last time. Nothing in particular caught her eye, everything just foreign and intimidating– and she swiftly headed towards the door, glad to be free of Alain’s room.

   As promised he was waiting for her. He held his hand out towards her, but she couldn’t bring herself to take it. Awkward silence fell across them as he withdrew his hand, and they headed towards her room in silence.

   “Looks like they’re still bringing down the bed,” Alain said uncertainly as they went in. The door was open, and they could see the bedframe had been placed in the room, but no mattress. Some of the Pokemon’s things had been pressed to the side, and Mairin hoped that they wouldn’t be upset with her sleeping in here. She tried to tell herself it was fine– they were her Pokemon after all.

   “Yeah,” She whispered. Mairin set her bag down in the corner, not sure of what else to do.

   “Okay,” Alain said, setting the stuff he had brought onto the ground. He pointed to the wicker basket. “That’s where you keep your toiletries and stuff is, I’m sure you remember we can’t keep all of our stuff in the bathrooms at once.”

   “I remember that,” Mairin replied quietly– the bathrooms in the lab didn’t have much in the way of storage space. In her memories she kept her stuff in a small cloth bag, but it seemed she had more things now.

   “Then there’s your purse– your phone and wallet is in there, and whatever else you keep in it. Don’t lose that,” He then pointed to the last two objects– a Pokebelt and an amulet. “Then finally your Pokeballs and key stone. Since you don’t remember... well, you got a keystone about three years ago.”

   For the first time that day, Mairin brightened up. “You mean I can mega evolve?”

   Alain smirked slightly. “I’m pretty sure it’s your Pokemon that mega evolve.”

   She smiled back, and for a moment the tension between them faded... but only for a moment. Mairin’s smile quickly vanished, and she looked away. She let her focus go to the belt, which had six Pokeballs on it. Six... including Ruby she only knew of four Pokemon she had ever captured. Her throat tightened– realizing that she had a two Pokemon she didn’t even know of.

   “What’s my team?” Mairin asked quietly.

   Alain stiffened slightly as she asked this, his eyes flickering towards the Pokeballs, then to her. He watched her for a moment, lips halfway parted as he considered his next words.

   “Well... you’ve already seen Chespie and Ruby– you have those two out the most. Then of course you should know Kiara... she’s evolved now,” He hesitated once more. “Then there’s Poppy, you hatched her from an egg a while back, and then finally you have Luke.”

   “And Ruby can mega evolve,” Mairin said, remembering the mega stone she had seen around the Pokemon’s neck.

   “...Luke can as well,” Alain said, before frowning. “At least, they should be able to... but I have no idea how your missing memories will affect your bond to them.”

   Mairin’s heart twisted. This amnesia... it just wasn’t affecting her, but everyone around her as well... She remembered how sorrowful Ruby had been yesterday once she realized that she didn’t know her... and now Mairin would have two more Pokemon that would have to learn that their trainer didn’t know them... But Kirara was evolved now, Mairin smiled slightly, trying to tell herself that was something to look forward to. She gulped once, but reached for the Pokeballs.

   Alain’s hand suddenly grabbed hers, stopping her.

   “Mairin, wait, please,” He said, and she stiffened up as he touched her. “Do me a favor, and don’t let any more Pokemon out until tomorrow.”

   “Wh-why?” Mairin asked, trying to pull her hand out of his. He paused, before letting her go.

   “Because we’ve all had a long day,” He said. “And learning of this was hard enough on Ruby, and hard on you. Tomorrow will be a new day, and everyone else will be there to help. Just get some rest, okay?”

   Mairin nodded slowly. “Okay...”

   He smiled softly. “Thank you. I am going to go help the others with your bed, alright? The attic isn’t exactly the easiest place to navigate,” He turned towards the door. “Call if you need anything.”

   “I don’t need you guys to babysit me,” Mairin snapped, harsher than she meant to. Alain paused in the doorway, but didn’t turn to face her. Silence filled the room, and for a moment she wondered if he was going to say anything.

   But instead he just walked out the door without another word.

   Something in Mairin shifted, but she just turned away. There were tears in her eyes, all of the pressure she had built up from today bearing down on her. The sun had barely even began to set, but she just wanted to sleep... of course it would be a few hours before it was even reasonable for someone her age to turn in, but she was sure that no one would think twice considering the state she was in.

   Not like she had a bed yet.

   She took in a deep breath, she could wait a little longer... then she could sleep..

   And Mairin hoped that when she woke up that this nightmare would be gone.

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

   “Stop poking me...” Mairin heard herself mutter. “I’m sleeping...”

   However the poking continued, causing Mairin to groan. She rolled over, the grainy sand of her bed gritting against her. The sleeping girl paused, before her eyes snapped open. A dark sky was laid out before her, countless stars shining above her.

   And a glowering Floette was glaring down at her.

   “Bébé!” Mairin cried as she saw the yellow-flowered Floette, and she quickly sat up. The Floette placed her flower over her shoulder, no longer using it to poke Mairin awake. “It’s the middle of the night, what are you...?”

   A wave of panic washed over Mairin– because she wasn’t saying any of these words. She was hearing them, she felt herself opening her mouth, but yet she had no control over herself. Her body was moving of its own accord, pushing itself into a sitting position. Mairin tried to cry out, but her body simply looked around without any care to what she wanted.

   They were in the middle of a desert.

  “Crap...” Mairin ‘said’. “I was sleep walking again, wasn’t I?”

  “Flo!” Bébé confirmed with a nod.

   She let out a groan of pain, but forced herself to stand up. The desert was silent around them– nothing in sight but sand. Mairin rose to her feet, brushing off the grainy sand as she studied the ground. Her footprints came from the east, and she muttered under her breath.

   “Great...” She muttered. “Hopefully we aren’t too far out from camp... Come on Bébé, let’s get back to Alain and the others... Bonnie’s going to freak if I’m not in our tent when she wakes up.”

   Mairin’s panic was starting to fade, even though she still didn’t have control over herself. However she was slowly realizing that what she was seeing wasn’t real– this was simply a dream. It wasn’t too hard to piece together after a moment, and now that she was aware she was able to relax as the dream continued to play out.

   She watched as Bébé and her dream self matched through the desert, stumbling over sand dunes, shivering at winds that Mairin couldn’t even feel. It wasn’t the most exciting dream Mairin had ever had, though her vision of the place was very sharp. But besides that her senses in this dream were dim, and she couldn’t do much more than watch dream-Mairin hike.

  “Sol!” A familiar voice cried out after several minutes of silent walking, and dream-Mairin paused. The girl slowly turned, and was able to make out a white shape standing on the hill of sand they had just finished hiking down. The Pokemon watched them with sharp red eyes, and dream-Mairin froze.

   ‘...Ruby?’ Mairin asked, surprised at the sudden appearance of the Absol she had just met in the waking world. Of course she had no control over her dreaming self, so her question went unvoiced.

   The Absol was clearly Ruby though– there was no mistaking that– but there was still some differences from the Pokemon that had been cuddling up with her today. This Absol had a much sharper look in her eyes, serious and tense. She was eying Mairin warily, and her fur had a rough look to it. And then, of course, there was no mega stone on this Absol– it was clearly a wild Pokemon.

   “You!” Dream-Mairin snapped, and her voice sounded angry. “What are you doing out here– stop following me!”

  “Flo!” Bébé added, darting in front of Mairin, the Floette holding out her flower threateningly.

   The Absol said nothing, simply standing still as the wind rushed by her silky fur. Ruby continued to watch Mairin, her eyes locking on the human. She then lifted her head, the dark type looking skywards, then at Mairin again. Ruby went still once more for a moment, but then placed a foot forward.

   “No!” Mairin snapped. “Don’t come closer– the locals were right about you, you’re nothing but bad luck! Ever since you’ve shown up I’ve just been getting separated from everyone, getting these horrible headaches, and... and then the stupid sleepwalking! It’s your fault that I’m out here!”

   The Absol let out a sigh, a puff of white air escaping her mouth. The night must have been cold, even in the desert, but since it was a dream that meant Mairin felt none of it. Ruby continued down the hill, making dream-Mairin tense even more.

  “Ette!” Bébé declared, pointing her flower at Ruby as if it were a sword. The petals of the flower started to glow, the brightness quickly lighting up the night. Ruby narrowed in eyes in the harsh light, and a Dazzling Gleam was released.

   “Use Energy Ball while she’s blinded!” Mairin ordered, and a glowing green orb started to form at the end of her flower. The Energy Ball was released as the remains of the Dazzling Gleam faded, and a flash of purple could be seen from rushing towards Bébé.

   The Psycho Cut and the Energy Ball met mid-air– the Psycho Cut slicing the Energy Ball in two, and both attacks faded. Dream-Mairin flinched as if in pain, while Ruby was charging down the hill, her claws draped in a dark energy of a Night Slash.

  “Flo!” Bébé cried, forming another Energy Ball, racing forward to engage the Absol. The green sphere was once again launched, and Absol jumped up into the air. Mairin’s eyes widened, impressed at how much height the Absol had gained. She leapt right over the Energy Ball and the Floette, and landed in the sand behind the fairy type.

   Ruby then ran forward, charging straight at Mairin. Dream-Mairin froze up, bracing herself as the Pokemon ran right at her– but the Absol came to a halt several feet away.

   Red eyes peered into amber ones, Ruby’s gaze intense and cold. The Absol maintained eye contact, even as Bébé let out an angry cry.

   Then the Absol turned away, glowing with a Quick Attack as she raced off into the desert night.

   Bébé let out an angry chitter as the dark type ran off, waving her flower about in a fit of rage. Then the fairy type turned back towards her trainer, quickly bolting to Mairin’s side. She darted up towards her shoulder, settling down and crossing her arms. Dream-Mairin was shaking slightly, but still gave the Floette on her shoulder a thankful smile.

   And then the dream melted away from around Mairin, and she drifted away into the darkness of sleep.