#spent the entire next day pub hopping with my family

[buglaur]

Literally how do you make a simself? I’ve tried over and over again, took pictures of different features of my face but it never ends up looking like me😭😭

i mean mine doesn't look like me perfectly but just looks like me if i was a sim in my sim style if that makes sense 😭 it did take me a bunch of attempts though, keep at it and you'll end up with something you like eventually!

[lawrence-eagleburger]

SERIOUS NON LEAFS LAWRENCEPOSTING

A couple days ago I was out in the city with my friend Elie sitting at a Venezuelan fast food spot after hopping between a couple bars, throwing down fruity cocktails and and old fashioneds all the same, punctuating the Galaga and Tetris games I got my ass kicked in at the arcade bar and the hilariously crude dirty covers at the dueling piano bar. It must have been three in the morning; I’ve never been the kind of person to spend a night in the city, but as I’ve grown into an adult I’ve found a certain love for it.

I grew up in the rural nothing of the American Midwest, where the closest largest metropolitan areas were a three hour drive either north or south, and a fun evening out consisted of cracking open a bottle of Crown Royal while listening to the cicadas scream and watching the fireflies dance and accompany the stars and moon; there is a serendipity to that, but it is a deeply asocial exercise, save for the four or five people you’d be laying on the grass with.

Partially because of that (with other factors playing a role, surely), I have found myself with a deep, yearning love for people, without the vocabulary necessary to connect to them — this is why I have been filling journals until moon gives way to sun for years, writing until my hands turn numb — and I suppose it makes sense that people don’t make any sense when you never see them.

Salt Lake City is, by the anecdotes of my more urban, well travelled friends, a child’s playground compared to the chaos of Los Angeles, New York, Philadelphia (and I have fond memories of the lattermost, having spent many summers there with my family), but it has been the backdrop against which I have been able to first experience the shenanigans that young adulthood brings — what young adulthood *should* bring, at least.

I moved out to Utah after the sudden passing of my mother, escaping a world I thought I would live an entire life and die in, and I despised it. The culture made no sense to me (it still doesn’t, honestly), the religious influence over the government felt draconian, and other than the otherworldly mountain view, I found myself in this foreign land where I knew nobody and carried the burdens of a man much older with the back of a child.

I hated it here. I spent my first months here dreaming of the day I would return to the Midwest, or spread my wings and set roots on the east coast where I made so many memories as a kid and knew more people than anywhere else.

But it’s impossible to stay that bitter and angry forever. I joined a chorus in the city and strained myself to make an effort to be sociable, and was rewarded in turn with a new circle of friends, Elie chief among them. I travelled around the state to see topographical features I had only ever seen in textbooks prior to living out here. I made runs to Colorado to surreptitiously acquire the goods Colorado is known for (if you know, you know).

I signed my name on my first ever lease. I started working out and, every once in a while, not eating like a garbage disposal. These sorts of things stack up on you, and while the day to day improvements might not be noticeable, one day you look in the mirror and you see a face and soul entirely unrecognizable from the one you saw six months ago.

Yes, I even found the time to take a stab at dating, with all of the supreme highs of walking on an empty beach on the Great Salt Lake hand in hand and feeling a peace I had never felt in my life, and the subsequent rock in the stomach feeling when things came to an end. It is a supreme luxury to have the time for these sorts of things, given where I came from.

From that you experience the day by day triumphs of surviving heartbreak, and healing from it, and experiencing the nightlife of a major American city for the first time in your life.

And so that’s how I ended up at a Venezuelan pub food joint, at 3am, sitting next to a beautiful mural of the country, listening to my good friend talk about the country he called home until geopolitical unrest forced him and his family to flee when he was just four years old. A strange age to remember your homeland, he told me. Just old enough to have memories of it, but not enough to identify with it.

He wove yarns, with a glint in his eye, about the beauty of Angel Falls and Caracas in the west, and the world of baseball (I asked about this) in the east, and the unmarred-by-Western-industrial-development jungles of the south where the indigenous population lived.

He lamented, glint turned into tears, that he would never get to see his grandmother again, who remained in Venezuela, and asked to nobody in particular how to square the circle of grieving somebody that was still alive.

Tears turned to laughter as he explained the empanada I was currently demolishing, and the Venezuelan soda I was sipping on that he had been enjoying since before I was born, and that Venezuelans took great pride in their Miss World/America pageant winners (the likes of which were all hanging in the rafters of the establishment).

We hailed a Lyft back to his apartment around 4 in the morning, and standing on the street corner, no more than ten feet away from several kebab vendors, with drunk club goers stumbling arm in arm with one another, I realized I had never seen this many people in one place before back home — and this was just a random street corner on a Friday night, in a city not exactly known for being exciting.

I recognized, with great excitement, how much left there was for me to know about being a human being, and how many stories were left to hear and to write myself.

This city and this state has been where I have known freedom for the first time in my life. It took a while, but finally, an authentic empanada and the eerily relatable tale of a good friend ripped away from home, and the nostalgia he felt, opened my eyes to a view of the world I hadn’t been able to have. There are so many parties to throw, laughs to be had, and tears left to shed. And there can be joy found anywhere you find yourself.

Is Utah *home*? Unsure. But, after a year and a half, I’m not fighting that fact anymore, and after the life I’ve lived, there might not be much difference between the two.

[lochrannn]

all rest my powers defy

Warnings: mild sexual content, swearing

Fandom: The Umbrella Academy

Pairing: Lila/Diego

Blurb: Things are a bit awkward between Lila and Diego atm.

Lila-centric

4000+ Words

The date is the second of April 2019, it is 8:34 in the evening and Lila is sitting at the bar lining the back wall of the Hargreeves mansion's lavish sitting room, sipping on a drink she can't remember the name of and is not really enjoying, but it's at least something to take her mind off of the fact that she is entirely lost as to what to do with herself now.

A fortnight ago, on the 12th of July 1974, while playing boules with a group of older women on the seafront in a small Southern English coastal town she had taken a day trip to, Lila decided that maybe she should give Diego's grand invitation to be part of his family some actual consideration, or at least stop trying as hard as she could not to think about it. In hindsight, she thought, it may have been a slightly exaggerated speech on his part, though she could forgive him for that, seeing as he had been trying to talk her down from murdering his brother, but even if he hadn't been quite sincere, surely he would be assuming that she might turn up for a chat at some point, right? And it came to her then, while idly lobbing a heavy ball, easily hitting her target and savoring the pleasing thunk sound the ball made when it embedded itself in the sand, that she should probably go see him about that.

Lila had taken the briefcase and run and it had taken her two weeks to slow down enough to fully catch up with her own thoughts. She had hopped aimlessly through all of time and space – now slightly regretting having gone to all of these great historic places without being in any kind of state to actually take much in or appreciate what a unique perspective she was gaining, what a waste – only to end up in London in 1974. She hadn't quite known why she had stopped running in this time and place but she had had a sneaking suspicion that subconsciously she had wanted to find her parents but was too scared to look for them closer to the time she would have been born, or the time of their murder four years later. She hadn't thought she could actually face finding them when they resembled the two people she could just about remember lying face down in their own blood in the living room the day the Handler had found stolen her. So she had simply blagged her way into a room in a small B&B and had spent her time idly walking around the city during the day and drinking a few too many pints in a different pub each night, all the while sabotaging her efforts to actually look into her parents' whereabouts. On the 12th of July, another two weeks after she had stopped running, she had woken up with a slight hangover, taken the tube to Victoria station and had got on the first train that would take her to the seaside. On that train ride she had admitted to herself that she wasn't ready to see her parents, wasn't sure she would ever be, but that she certainly didn't feel like going on the way she had for the past month. So she had made a pact with herself that by the time she got back on the train to London she would have a plan of what to do. She was twenty-nine and had only ever lived according to her mother's the Handler's plans. She had been thrilled at and equally scared of the prospect of having to make her own decisions.  

The next morning after her seaside outing she took a long bath, packed her few belongings in the canvas rucksack she had bought at a charity shop, and pulled the black leather briefcase out from the back of her cupboard. She left her spare pound notes – all stolen – on the unmade bed for the landlady. She knew it wouldn't cover what the room would have cost her, but she figured it was the best she could do in the moment and felt a bit of guilt at the realisation that this was one of the first times in her adult life that she had thought to do something decent for another person she wasn't trying to gain something from. And what a meager bit of decency it was.

Her first stop was the commission. She really didn't want to go back to that place but she also knew that she had no hope in hell of finding Diego without the help of someone there. Lila doubted the Hargreeves would still be in Dallas in the 60s and beyond that she had no clue of where else to look for them. She knew they had arrived in the 60s from 2019 but she was honestly uncertain whether there was any 2019 left after the 1st of April. So she really hoped she could either convince Herb of giving her some assistance – he had seemed oddly touched by her feelings for Diego – or if not, simply threaten him until he gave up Diego's where- and whenabouts.

When she got to the commission Herb was apparently expecting her and was only too happy to help. She couldn't decide whether she should kiss the little gerbil man on his head or tell him to stop being so creepy, but in the end she grumbled her thanks for the information, punched the coordinates into the briefcase's dial, and happily vanished into blue static, hoping not to have to come back to this place any time soon.

After that, things were a bit of a blur. If asked, she thinks she can barely piece together what happened. In fact, knowing what she does now about Five's ability to rewind time, she's not certain he might not have done so a few times over the past two weeks, so little of what happened makes any kind of temporal sense otherwise, all she remembers is a not-dead Reginald Hargreeves, an alternative set of powered, dysfunctional, and slightly evil Harvgreeves siblings, and a lot of fighting. In the end they averted another apocalypse – these people truly were catastrophe magnets –, restored the original Hargreeves siblings' original timeline, managed to avert the apocalypse there/then as well and lived to see the 2nd of April 2019. Though she begrudgingly has to admit that Five had been a genius at strategising their way out of the mess they had made and for once his siblings had rallied behind him and kept in line, she herself had played an integral role, which is why, she suspects, they have been out of harms way for almost two hours now and haven't turned on her yet.

So now here Lila is, with six Hargreeves siblings strewn across the sitting room's furniture, shooting the shit like they haven't just dragged themselves out of hell. Lila's drinking a cocktail Allison mixed for her a few minutes ago, she's a little off to the side and internally freaking out about what to do next. While they were running and fighting for their lives she had seamlessly integrated herself into their merry little group, she is nothing if not uncannily adaptable, but here, in this quiet moment, she suddenly realises that at no point have they discussed what her place was amongst them. And then, of course, there is Diego.

Her gaze flits over to the armchair he's sitting in with his filthy boots propped up on an expensive looking ottoman. She thinks he's doing that deliberately. She only glances at him quickly before letting her eyes drop back down again. Lila's been doing that a lot these past few weeks, looking at him when he wasn't looking at her, generally keeping out of his way when she could help it. When they did interact, Diego was nothing if not courteous and pleasant towards her, less warm than he was with his siblings, but he didn't treat her like an enemy or a stranger, and Lila found that this side of him that she had never experienced before, was something she really didn't know what to do with. It threw her so much that she didn't really know how to behave towards him. While locked up in the asylum Diego had oscillated wildly between being aggressive towards the orderlies and being exasperated and annoyed with Lila but just as often flirting with her, and now she suspected some of that behaviour may have been down to the drugs, because she hardly recognised this calm, almost calculating version of him. If anything, he reminded her most of when he had told her outside the Mexican embassy in Dallas that he agreed with Five's suspicion of her, and that made something in her stomach twist. At some point when she had more than two minutes to think about anything other than trying not to get herself killed, she realised in horror that an outside observer might have described her as being shy around Diego.  

Thinking of that makes her snort into her drink and Lila can feel some of the Hargreeves looking at her but only for a moment, as she shows no further sign of saying anything or even looking at them. When she is certain she's no longer being observed Lila looks back at where Diego is currently plucking mint leaves from the stalk sticking out of his glass, rolling them up, and flicking them at the back of Luther's head when he is turned away, hitting the exact same spot every single time. Luther doesn't seem to notice as he is paying attention to whatever Five is currently going on about. Lila has made her peace with the realisation that she doesn't blame Five for her parents' death, she knows she would have done the same in his position and it could have been anybody, the true villain in this story was her mother the Handler. Nevertheless, she thinks Five is a patronising, pompous little shit, so she can't really be arsed to listen to whatever has him riled now. Luther absentmindedly swats at the back of his head and a look of irritation passes over his face. Again she snorts into her drink – she thinks she might be getting tipsy, this shouldn't keep happening – and this time only one Hargreeves looks over at her, but this one makes her cheeks heat up. Diego catches Lila's eye with an unreadable expression and she's too surprised to look away, so he holds her gaze for a long moment before he turns back to irritating his brother. What the fuck is she supposed to do with that?

During her musings Lila zones out for a bit, seems to be losing track of time, because the next time she looks up it's only Vanya, Klaus and Allison sitting around the table all holding mostly empty drink glasses and chatting lightly. Vanya giggles at something Klaus is saying and when Allison sees Lila looking, she gets up and walks over to her.  

“We're all about to head to bed, do you want me to find you some fresh pyjamas?” Allison asks her gently.  

The two of them have been getting on weirdly well. Lila thinks she might have to apologise at some point for almost suffocating the other woman, but so far Allison's easygoing manner towards her has made Lila feel awkward about bringing it up. How do you say 'Sorry for really wanting you dead there a few months back,' when someone is casually offering you sleepwear?

“Nah, I'm ok,” Lila replies, wincing inwardly when she sees Allison slightly wrinkle her nose. This also keeps happening with the Hargreeves, she constantly feels like she says or does the wrong thing. At least where the small things are concerned. Lila can't work out if she is somehow weird – she might be, after all she was raised by a psychopath outside of linear time –, or if the siblings are overly judgmental, or if they are still a bit miffed at the whole her trying to murder them all thing. If it's the latter, Lila thinks, she can't really blame them.

“Uhm... where do I...?”

“Oh, just head upstairs,” Allison interrupts her half-formed question, “there's forty-two bedrooms in this place and all of ours are downstairs, so you can just pick any room you like the look of!”

Lila mumbles her thanks and goodnights to the three siblings still in the room and heads out to the cavernous foyer with its imposing staircase and gallery. She picks up her rucksack before starting her ascent. Five had commandeered her briefcase the minute they decided to keep her around during their alternate timeline escapades and so far she hadn't really bothered to find out where he was keeping it. Though depending on how the next few days are going to go, she maybe should ascertain its whereabouts, just in case.

All the hallways look much the same, with tasteful if boring decoration and very poor lighting. Lila wanders down one on the second floor and has just passed a bathroom with gold fixtures that she could spot through the half-open door when she hears the very familiar whoosh-thunk sound of a knife being thrown and embedding itself in something, coming from the room immediately up ahead.  

Lila stops short.

She takes a deep breath, suppresses the urge to slap her cheeks to hype herself up, and continues walking.  

For fuck's sake, it's not like she went looking for him, also what if she had? He hasn't told her not to talk to him and it's certainly not that she's nervous about talking to him, fuck no...  

Lila's thoughts spiral so quickly that when the room and its occupant actually come into view her internal monologue screeches to a halt.

The bedroom seems to be some kind of master bedroom with a large bed at the centre, beautifully made up with a flowery spread and throw pillows, a small desk, and a comfortable looking armchair over by the window – all of it deeply impersonal. A guest room, then.

And there is Diego sitting on the bed, back resting against the headboard, his legs stretched out in front of him, crossed at the ankle. His feet are bare, boots lying haphazardly kicked off by the armchair, which is, in turn, occupied by Diego's jacket. The man himself is currently only wearing his black tank top and trousers and his harness is strewn across his knees. He's holding a knife in his hand and Lila is sure that if she turned to look at the wall opposite him, she would find more knives already embedded in the wood panelling.  

But Lila doesn't turn to look at the wall because she can't tear her eyes away from Diego. She realises with a start that this is the first time she's been alone in his presence since... well since Elliott's and all of a sudden she is overwhelmed with how much she missed – misses – him.

Diego acknowledges her with one of those infuriatingly cool looks he's been giving her and then goes back to aiming and chucking the knife at the wall.

Lila doesn't flinch, instead she crosses her arms and casually leans against the doorframe.

“I thought the children sleep downstairs,” she quips. That at least earns her his attention again.

Diego doesn't immediately answer, Lila thinks he might be torn between rising to her bait and simply ignoring her. Finally, he says in a neutral tone “If I have to stay in this godforsaken house in the first place, I'm definitely not staying in one of those monk's cells Dad kept us in.”

There's an uncomfortable pause and Lila hates it. The one thing Diego and herself could always manage was to endlessly talk at each other, even if it was just lobbing insults back and forth. She's increasingly certain he's doing this whole cold shoulder nonsense to punish her or something. Anger flares up within her. Looking at Diego sitting there with his stupid handsome face, and his stupid muscled shoulders and arms on display, and his stupid brown eyes that look exactly as warm and open as they always had when he was talking to her back at the asylum and back at Elliott's, Lila is infuriated that she can't go over to him and kiss him silly, because he won't come out and properly talk to her. A slightly mean voice in the back of her head reminds her that what he has to say to Lila might be that he wants nothing more to do with her other than as someone who fights for his family, but her train of thought is interrupted when she sees something passing over Diego's face. He's getting impatient at her silence too.

“Why are you here, Lila?”

“It's almost midnight, we've been through a bit of a kerfuffle, I was looking for somewhere to sleep. Is that allowed?”

His face twists in annoyance at her retort and Lila thinks to herself that at least that's a change from the constant neutrality he's been weaponising against her before.

“There are forty-two bedrooms in this place, why have you come to the one I'm in?”

That question makes Lila feel oddly embarrassed and the feeling makes her lash out, “Don't flatter yourself! I was wandering down a random hallway when I heard your stupid knife-throwing. I think I'm allowed to make sure we're not being attacked without being accused of looking for you specifically!”

“Oh no, you certainly can't be accused of that, Lila!” Diego scoffs with a bitter undertone.

She was going to hurl something else at him, but that stops Lila in her tracks, “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“You've been avoiding me,” he says flatly.

What the fuck? “What the fuck?” Lila almost shouts. “If anything, you've been avoiding me!” She throws her hands up in exasperation.

The look Diego gives her is a curious one. This is the first time they haven't been painfully polite to each other. The fight leaves Lila as quickly as it came over her. She huffs out a breath and makes up her mind.

She lets the rucksack slide down her shoulders, kicks off her red boots – she loosened the laces earlier when she had hopped up onto the barstool – and walks over to the bed. Diego tracks her movements but says nothing and makes no move of his own other than to gently shove the knife harness off the bed – whether for her safety or his, she's not quite sure – so she rolls onto the bed next to him. She tries to pull it off as elegantly as possible even though she knows the position she ends up in is significantly less so. Making sure to keep just enough distance that she isn't touching him, she kicks her legs up along the headboard and wall and ends up with her back pressed into the mattress and her head somewhere by Diego's knees. When she looks back at his face she can see by the tension in his cheeks and the quirk of his lips that he's suppressing a grin.

Lila gives herself half a moment to study Diego's face. His goatee is neatly trimmed and his hair is a lot shorter, buzzed at the sides and almost flopping on top, it's a deliberate style choice that she somehow doesn't think was Diego's own and she makes a mental note to ask him about that. She is struck again by the fact that she thinks he looks beautiful. She's never thought of anyone looking beautiful before but at some point during their time together in Dallas she realised that this slightly brutish man had become beautiful to her. She is too afraid to examine right now what that is supposed to mean.

Instead she turns and pokes him hard in the thigh with her finger. “Why would I be avoiding you?” she asks with what she hopes isn't a pout.

Diego huffs out some air and quietly replies “I don't know.”

“Jesus fuck, Diego, I came looking for you, didn't I? I've stuck around with your stupid apocalypse mission! Fuck, I've mostly played nice with the murderer of my parents for the last two weeks, what could possibly make you think I was avoiding you?” Lila looks up at him with exasperation and sees the guilt flash across his face at the mention of her parents.

“I –“ he begins but when he can't get past the first word, he stops. And she suspects he does that so he doesn't end up stammering. She remembers him talking about that in group therapy at Holbrook, when, to Lila's horror, Diego would use his real feelings and trauma to try and soften Moncton to his cause. The thought of being that honest and open had genuinely caused cold fear to pool in the pit of Lila's stomach. Lying here in the bed next to Diego, though, with no one else around, she's reminded of the time she was lying on top of Elliott's fold out couch and had, for the very first time in her adult life, been honest and unguarded with anyone who wasn't her mother the Handler. She's encouraged by the thought that she's managed it before, so maybe she can do it again.

Lila waits to see if Diego will go on. She knows he hated being talked over as a kid and wants to give him a chance if he has more to say. But he just slowly blinks and then looks down at his hands.

On a whim Lila lifts her leg closest to him off the wall, swings it around and lets it fall diagonally across his chest, hitting him hard enough with her calf to make him huff out some air in surprise. Diego looks back at her face and she can see the beginnings of a smile. This is familiar. This is reminiscent of her antics at the asylum. It makes things just a little more normal and comfortable between them.

Diego grabs her ankle and she starts to roll her eyes at him but is interrupted by her breath leaving her in a gasp when she suddenly feels his lips brush against the sensitive, exposed skin between the top of her sock and the bottom of her trousers that have fallen up her leg a little.

She looks up at him almost in shock, her heart in her throat, and her expression must give him pause because he looks back at her like a deer caught in the headlights, his hand and lips still touching her ankle.  

Lila sits up very suddenly, almost surprising herself, and Diego lets her foot drop to the side, her leg now thrown across his lap. They are in each other's space, staring, neither of them quite sure of what to do next. Diego's gaze ever so quickly drops to her mouth before coming back to stare wide eyed back at her. That ends any self control Lila has left. Fuck it, she thinks. “Fuck it!” she repeats out loud.

In one quick motion she lifts herself up onto his lap and wraps her arms around his neck. And before she can cover his mouth with hers, she can already feel his hands on her waist and Diego surges forward into a crushing kiss.

All the tension leaves Lila's body and she melts into him. Both of them wrap their arms tighter around the other, trying somehow to make the edges of their bodies give way so they can occupy the same space. Every nerve ending in her body is on fire and Lila wants to feel more of him. She pulls away very slightly to try and pry his tank top off him, but he has apparently had the same thought and gets to the hem of her jumper more quickly and pulls it up, off over her head, making her squeak. How undignified. When the piece of clothing is gone and she can look back at him, though, his pupils are blown with want and glassy with emotion and before she can take his top off she has to kiss him again, because it almost hurts too much to look at him, and she wants to kiss him anyway.

They continue like this. Trying to get the other naked as quickly as possible but getting interrupted by wanting to touch and kiss and bite and squeeze. When Lila finally sinks down onto him with a sigh and a strangled groan from Diego, she distantly remembers that the door to the room is still open. Bizarrely she is reminded that this wouldn't be the first time they're having sex when anyone could come wandering by and that makes her chuckle. The vibration of her laugh travels straight through her and Diego and makes him gasp when he asks her “What?”

“Nothing,” she replies and starts moving.

She'll tell him later. She'll tell him all of her thoughts later, and she really hopes he'll tell her his.  

[neerasrealm]

Oh no your story is to good now I want a pt 3 laughing jack x reader (;_;) Is it ok to ask for more? If not, why not a Slen x LJ secreat relationship? since I saw you made a post about it

I’m glad you liked the story so much! Unfortunately at the time I couldn’t think of anything for a part 3, but I COULD think of plenty of stuff for a secret relationship au so...here you go. consider this a part one of a series that I’ll work on when y’all give me the time

also a couple things I wanna clarify; one, this takes place in the late 1800s - early 1900s, and two, LJ is a fallen angel in this story, but in my regular hcs he’s a regular angel- just- didn’t want people to think that shfgsha.

Slender awoke feeling groggy and stiff. His head ached and there was a rotten taste in his mouth. He groaned gently and blinked in the morning light streaming in through the window. He slowly looked around. He was in an unfamiliar room, with pastel orange walls that were covered in sheets of paper that had crude pencil and crayon drawings all over them. There were toys scattered around haphazardly along with balloons and paper garlands. The room looked...childish. But the furniture was ornate, and fit the room like it had always been there.

However, Slender’s attention wasn’t on the room for long, because he quickly realised he wasn’t alone in the unfamiliar bed. His arms were wrapped around someone big and soft. Their body was thick, and their arms were wound tightly around his own thin, frail body. Slender couldn’t see their face, but it was definitely pressed into his chest. He couldn’t see much of them below wispy black hair, but it was certainly enough for Slender to tell two things. One, they were a stranger, and two, however he had gotten here had involved something removing his suit jacket and unbuttoning his shirt, followed by the two of them curled up together in bed, hugging each other tight.

Panic set into Slender quicker than you could say ‘’good morning’’. As Slender lay there trying not to hyperventilate his mind raced and scrambled to remember anything leading up to him getting here. The night before- what had happened? He remembered yesterday clearly enough. His father had spent the whole day pestering him about his future wedding, which meant Slender hadn’t a single moment to rest and relax. So after dinner, he snuck out and down to earth. He soon found himself in France, and later, a bar. And that’s when things got blurry.

Oh his family was going to be so angry-! He was supposed to be the responsible one! He never broke any rules, he didn’t just- get drunk! He didn’t run off in the night and end up shirtless in beds with people he didn’t know! He was enga- well technically he wasn’t, the marriage wasn’t properly arranged yet, but still! This wasn’t him! Oh he was going to be in so much trouble…

As he was trying to figure out how to get out of this situation without having a panic attack, the person on top of him shifted. He froze, his blood running cold. ‘’Please don’t wake up please don’t wake up please do-’’

‘’Mmmnnghh…’’ the person shifted, their arms uncurling from around him. One of their hands instead lay atop Slender’s bare- er- breast, and leaned against it for support as they sat up. Slender’s face flushed an extremely dark grey. The person shook their head, messy black hair falling around their face, obscuring it. Slender could see them better now. Their sleeves were striped black and white, and they wore a short grey shirt. One of their shoulders had a feathered shoulder pad on it. The second one for their other shoulder was probably on the bedroom floor somewhere, along with Slender’s jacket. ‘’Ungh.’’ they grunted. Slender stayed still as he could just waiting for the moment the other person realised their situation. It was definitely far worse for them than it was for him. Slender only had to worry about his family being angry at him. This person had to wake up in bed with a faceless monster. ‘’H-hah?’’ yep. They had definitely realised. That noise of confusion was all the confirmation Slender needed.

They slowly looked up, their eyes trailing up Slender’s thin, white body. Their head raised and stared at Slender in shock and confusion. Their face was white, just like him- but they had a face- and a pretty one at that. They had thin, black brows, and lips that were covered in smudged black lipstick. Their nose was- shaped- like a cone and it was striped just like their sleeves. Black and white. But their eyes...oh gods their eyes. They were big and round, and the colour of ice. Their eyes were bright and innocent looking in their haze of confusion. Slender blushed harder. Great, he was in bed with someone attractive.

"...w-who th' fock are ye?" The very attractive stranger asked. Slender's brows raised in surprise. Their voice was deep and gravelly, and they had the thickest accent he had ever heard. 

"I-" Slender's brain was completely fried. Whether it was from panic, the hangover or total fear induced by this attractive stranger with an intimidating voice, he wasn't sure. "My- My name is Slender." He finally stammered out. "I-I'm so sorry about all of this I don't usually-" he was cut off by the other person shifting and instead sitting on top of Slender, effectively straddling him. Oh. Oh he didn't like this position at all.

"I'm Jack," the attractive stranger grunted, rubbing at his head with a bandaged black hand. "Ow'd we ge' 'ere…?"

"I um- I'm not sure…" Slender murmured. Jack...he remembered that name. "We- met at a bar last night, I think I recall you sitting next to me. I- don't remember much besides that I'm afraid…" Slender looked Jack over now that he could see him better. His hands were bony and black, wrapped in bandages. His torso was also wrapped up for some odd, unknown reason. He wore a short grey shirt that really only covered his chest, suspenders that were striped various shades of black, white and grey, and shorts. Shorts! His pants were still on thank the gods! "Is er- is this...your room…?"

"Yeh, yeh tis." Jack nodded as he squinted at the window. He reached over and pulled the curtains shut, muttering something about how it was too early to be awake. He looked back at Slender. "So we me' a' a pub?"

"Yes." Slender nodded. He paused before asking the next question. "Why...why aren't you um- f-freaking out?" He tilted his head. "You do realize I'm...not human…?"

"Tha' wuz g'nna be me next quest'on." Jack looked up at him. "Ye're bluddy 'orrifyin' bu' I didn' wanna say anyfin'. Tha'd be rude."

Oh. How polite. Slender coughed, clearing his throat. "I- well it's a little...difficult, to explain, but erm-" he hesitated. "I'm a- well I'm a fae- well partially, I'm fae on one side and then my father is of angelic nature so-"

"Ye're an angel?!" Jack cut in. Slender recoiled in surprise and gave a meek nod. Jack grinned. "I am too! Fockin' 'ell, after Jill I though' I wouldn' find another 'ne, bu' 'ere ye are!" He looked thrilled now, seemingly forgetting all the negatives of the situation.

"...no you aren't." Slender looked Jack over. Looking at him now, it was easy to see he wasn't actually human. His proportions were too off for that. He certainly had the makings of an angel, the eyes of one and the friendly tone of voice, but there was too much throwing it off. His black and white colour scheme, his bony black hands that were tipped with claws, and his teeth...looking at them now, they were sharp. Dangerous. "I think it's more accurate to say you're a fal-"

"I'm no' fallen!" Jack interrupted him. His friendly demeanor was gone now, replaced with an angry glare. "Sure I've lost me colours an' I'm no' th' 'oliest bloke around, bu' yes're 'ardly perfect yerselves, now are ya?" He snapped. Slender recoiled defensively. "I'm an angel. Always wuz an' always will be."

"Okay, okay." Slender replied quickly. He didn't want to get on Jack's bad side. Fallen angels were known for three things. Their lack of colours, their cunning intelligence, and their anger. Thinking about it now…could it be that Jack had known he was an angel last night…? Had he sensed it and targeted him?

"Well er-" Jack broke him out of his thoughts. He had seemingly calmed down a bit. Slender looked at him. "Can I offer ye breakfas'?"

"I- well I don't think I should, I should really...get home…" Slender glanced aside. Home...god his family was going to kill him.

"Ah c'mon, i's still early!" Jack reached down and grabbed Slender's hand. "c'mon, ye're in Paris! Nobody does breakfas' like th' french!" 

Before Slender could protest, Jack hopped off the bed and tugged his new faceless friend up off of it. He grinned. His free arm stretched out, grabbing Slender's jacket from where it had been dropped on the floor. Slender watched the clown's arm in fascination. It could extend and curl as if he had no bones at all. 

"Ere ye go!" Jack handed Slender his jacket, then grabbed his own missing clothes from the floor. "Th' bathroom's across th' 'all. I recommen' cleanin' yerself up." He added before shrugging on his shoulder pad and cheerfully striding out of the room with his shoes under his arm. 

Slender sighed and fixed his clothes, buttoning up his shirt and slipping on his jacket. He left the room and found himself in a cherry red hall. The walls were again decorated with well- anything. Mostly paintings. He opened the door across from him and found it led to a bright blue bathroom. Jack was certainly fond of his colourful walls. It was a cramped room, decorated with a nautical theme. Toward the back of the room was a bath with a shower head. Slender squinted for a moment. The bath had an absurd amount of children's toys in it, and on the shelf in the corner he could see a bottle of...fabric softener. No soap just fabric softener. Did Jack wash himself with fabric softener???

This entire place was messy and unkempt. Did Jack ever clean? At least it meant one thing. Jack most certainly wasn't Slender's type, and this whole thing wouldn't go further than one drunken night and a hungover breakfast. He turned his attention from the decor, to the mirror.

Oh. Oh lord. His face and what he could see of his neck was covered in smudged black lipstick. The same smudged black lipstick that had been on Jack earlier. His face flushed such a dark colour it was practically black. 

"There y'are! I almos' bluddy fell asleep 'ere!" Jack exclaimed as Slender, now lipstick-free, walked into the pink living room. Slender frowned, looking Jack over.

"You're...wearing the same clothes?"

"Yeh." Jack looked down at himself. "Somefink wrong wiv em?"

"Well I thought you'd- I don't know, change? Don't they smell bad?"

Jack shrugged. "They smell like me, an' I don' swea' so…" he looked aside. "I changed me shoes though!" He stuck out his leg to show Slender the long black boots he was wearing. They had pointed toes, raised heels and showed off how slim and long Jack's legs were. Slender blushed. 

"...I see."

Jack stood up off the couch and looked at Slender, swinging his arms and smiling. "Ya ready?"

Slender sighed. ‘’I suppose…’’

While Jack had his back turned, Slender shifted into his human form, then followed after him. Jack paused, looking him over once he realised Slender had changed. His human form was tall, and extremely pale, with blonde, nearly white hair. He looked up at Jack with small, brown eyes. Jack blinked.

‘’...Slen?’’

‘’Yes?’’

‘’...ye changed.’’

Slender looked unamused. ‘’It’s called blending in. We’re among humans?’’

‘’Oh. Righ’.’’ Jack looked at him, then closed the door to his apartment, not bothering to lock it. He walked past Slender and down the stairs. ‘’Ye comin’?’’

Slender followed after him, frowning. ‘’What about your disguise?’’

‘’Don’t ‘ave one.’’ 

‘’You don’t?’’

‘’Nah. I can’t do any ‘f tha’ shapeshiftin’ stuff,’’ he shrugged. ‘’I jus’ tell every’ne I’m a mime an’ they believe me.’’

Slender nodded slowly. Huh. That was...surprisingly smart. The two of them stepped out of the building and Slender looked around. The area around them was run down, dirty, a slum. Slender looked around. ‘’You live here…?’’

‘’Yep.’’ Jack walked along, not a worry in the world. ‘’Livin’ is cheap over ‘ere.’’

‘’You left your front door open- in an area like this?’’ Slender tilted his head. Jack shrugged.

‘’If some’ne needs somewhere warm ta stay they can jus’ slip in, an’ i’s no’ like I ‘ave anyfink worth stealin’. Nofink I can’t jus’ replace a’ least.’’

‘’That’s…’’ Slender blinked. ‘’That’s...really kind…’’ 

Jack smiled a bit and glanced at him. ‘’Eh, I’s th’ least I can do.’’ he murmured. ‘’Lo’a folks are ou’ on their own, ‘ungry an’ cold. If I can give ‘em somewhere safe ta stay fer a li’le bi’, I’m ‘appy ta do i’.’’

As they walked, Slender listened with interest as Jack shared his stories of guests he’d had in his small apartment and friends he’d made from just calmly talking with those that often went ignored. It was fascinating to Slender, how Jack seemed to just emit an air of relaxation and cheer. How someone could just- start a conversation with a stranger, how he could consider so many people his friends and how he just gave them all he had merely because he felt it was more important they had it than him. There was something about Jack that Slender just...couldn’t explain. Something drew him in and made him feel...different, from how he felt at home. Being with Jack was unlike anything else he knew.

‘’Ere we are, china pla’e!’’ Jack exclaimed, running ahead of Slender. He hopped into the air and landed on the base of a streetlamp, hanging onto it with one hand as he leaned off of it. He laughed as Slender ran to catch up to him. He stood up and turned around, looking behind him. ‘’See tha’?’’

Slender looked up. In front of them was a busier, more built up street, bordering a massive canal. Up in the distance, Slender could see the Eiffel Tower, looming over everything. Jack turned and grinned down at him.

‘’I know th’ bes’ bluddy place by th’ river, ye’re g’nna love i’.’’ he hopped back down onto the ground and started walking again. "C'mon!"

Slender followed Jack to a small bakery on a street corner. Though it looked small, and not that wealthy, the smell coming from it was heavenly. He paused for a moment, admiring how quaint the little place was, before following Jack inside.

"Bonjour madame! Comment ça va?" Jack greeted the owner in a very bad french accent. She did not look pleased to see him.

"Bonjour Jack. Petit dejeuner?" She asked tiredly. Jack nodded.

"Oui, merci." Jack turned and smiled at Slender. "I come 'ere all th' time. Real good place."

"Mmm," Slender looked around. "Your french is terrible."

"Oi!" Jack glared down at him. "Rude!"

"I'm just saying."

"Well- I'd like ta see you do be'er! Ye 'aven't spoken a lick 'f french since ye woke up!"

Slender gave him an unamused look, then turned to the owner. "Madame," she turned to look at him.  "Je voudrais dire que c'est un endroit charmant et que votre nourriture sent délicieuse."

The owner blinked in surprise, then smiled. "Merci monseuir!" She chirped. "Puis-je vous offrir quelque chose?"

"Non, non. Jack est paie pour moi." Slender shook his head. He looked up at Jack and smiled smugly. "How was that?"

"...Oh fock off ye cheeky codger."

Slender snorted, then broke into a fit of laughter. He had no idea why that was so funny to him, but when he heard Jack chuckling along beside him, it made him grin even wider.

"Monsieur, ton petit dejeuner." The two of them were interrupted by the owner putting a small white box and two coffees onto the counter. Jack grinned and took them, handing the owner some francs before turning and walking toward the door.

"C'mon, Slen."

Slender smiled and followed after Jack. He tilted his head. "Aren't angels supposed to be good at languages?" He asked with a sly smile.

"I am good a' languages! I's jus' speakin' em tha's 'ard." Jack replied defensively.

"Ah. So that's why your english is so bad too."

"Oi!" Jack turned and glared at him. "I'm a born and bred englishmun, excuse you!"

Slender laughed. "Sorry, sorry." He murmured. The two of them crossed the street and walked along the canal. Jack led him to a bench and the two of them sat down. The morning sun was warm. Bright and welcoming. Jack set the box between the two of them and sipped his coffee. Slender looked out at the large river in front of them. "Wow…" he murmured. "...it's beautiful."

"It is, innit?" Jack smiled. "I luv ea'in' 'ere. I's so peaceful." He opened the box and revealed it was full of pastries. Croissants, pain au chocolats, madalines, eclairs and more. Slender stared in surprise. The smell coming from the small box was heavenly. His stomach growled. 

"Go on, ea' up. Ye're a stick." Jack said through a mouthful of croissant. Slender smiled a bit and daintily grabbed a pain au chocolat, taking a small bite. The taste was heavenly and sweet. He hummed happily. Jack watched him and smiled, pleased. "Been a while since I a'e wiv some'ne." He murmured. He looked back at the river. "Much less some'ne I'm after sleepin' wiv."

Slender coughed loudly, choking on his breakfast. Jack reached over and lightly smacked his back. Slender coughed and looked over at Jack, blushing a dark red. Jack tilted his head.

"Ye okay…?"

"Y-Yes just-" Slender glanced away. "I...almost forgot about how we met."

Jack laughed. "Almost?! I can't remember a single fing from last night!" He exclaimed. "Well- act'ally…" he paused for a second. "I do remember one fing."

"Hm?" Slender looked at him.

"Ye're a bluddy good kisser."

Slender made a feeble squeaking noise and quickly looked away. Jack laughed quietly at how hard he was blushing. The hand that had been patting Slender's back reached over and squeezed his shoulder. ‘’Eh, relax china pla’e…’’ Jack tilted his head and cocked a brow, smiling.

‘’Don’t get the wrong idea,’’ Slender muttered. ‘’I’m- not available.’’

Jack retracted his hand and looked at Slender in surprise. ‘’Ye- ye’re da’in’ some’ne?’’

‘’Well- no not- not exactly.’’ Slender fidgeted nervously. ‘’I’m- supposed to get married soon. My parents want me to. They’re going to...arrange it. I’m not technically engaged yet.’’

‘’Ohhh….’’ Jack nodded in understanding. ‘’So- ye are available.’’

Slender looked at Jack, blinking in surprise. Did- did he really just- Slender looked away quickly to hide his blush. ‘’Technically yes b-but-’’ he gulped. ‘’This- this is a once off! We hardly know each other.’’

‘’Then…’ow abou’ we ge’ ta know each o’her.’’ Jack scooted closer and rested his hand on Slender’s. He gave him a friendly smile. ‘’No kissin’, no da’in’, jus’ us bein’ buds.’’

Slender paused. ‘’...buds?’’

Jack nodded. ‘’Yeh! Me an’ you. Pals.’’

Slender paused for a moment. Jack’s smile widened. His eyes were big, kind, welcoming. They were innocent, friendly. Like all he wanted from Slender was just his company. He glanced away before he could get sucked into them. 

‘’Well I...suppose a quick walk to the Eiffel Tower after breakfast wouldn’t hurt.’’

[nam-nam-joon]

by the sea

Pairing: jeon heejin/reader; kim seokjin/reader

Genre: inspired by this post by @kurara-black-blog​ ; selkie! AU

Wordcount: 6.7k

Warnings: someone opens a door in only underwear (partial nudity); implied consumption of alcohol (this does start in a bar)

Summary: the night is dark and the tiny town by the sea storm-swept when you make your way into the local bar; to meet Heejin and catch up. who could've guessed a chance encounter could extend your horizon far beyond what you thought was normal - real?

Thunder clapped overhead as you shut the pub’s door behind you.

It wasn’t the first summer storm that raged high above the little town by the sea, but it was among the more vicious ones, and you were glad to even have found the bar in this downpour.

The coat rack by the door was overflowing with oilgear in all shades of black, grey and yellow; depending on the age of the garment. In the dim orange light they mostly looked the same anyways.

Not wanting to lug the drenched coat around with yourself you dove between the jackets, arm outstretched to feel if there was a hook under the mountain of cloth that could still hold one more – your knuckles brushed surfaces both smooth and rough, canvas and wax, and then, fur.

It was very soft but came so unexpected you froze, until you remembered someone probably left their heirloom mink or something. The hook next to it wasn’t blocked yet, and with great difficulty, you managed to wedge the loop of your coat over it. The fur brushed your hand again, and then the previously unseen garment landed in a soft heap in front of the worn Blundstone’s on your feet.

It wasn’t mink, as you’d thought, and it didn’t look like your run of the mill fur coat either. It was a vest with applications of some sort; The fur only on the inside for insulating purposes, probably. What it was doing here in the middle of summer was beyond you; you hadn’t seen anyone wear anything heavy like this the days you’d spent here over the summer. The chance to dwell on the matter longer was taken from you when-

“Hi.”

You turned, vest still in hands. You couldn’t make out much of the stranger, but he was very tall and had wet eyes.

“Hi!” You spoke back, over the backdrop of the noisy bar. “Sorry – Is this yours?” You held the vest up. A glass smashed and cheers erupted somewhere deeper into the room, and the stranger twitched, shoulders sagging down.

“Um, ye-“

“I’m so sorry I dropped it!” You had to shout now, as claps and more cheers arose. “I hope it’s not dirty!”

And you brushed it off half-heartedly and held it out to the other.

Around the stranger’s side you could spot Heejin close enough to the bar that the many many candles burning on it illuminated her face.

“Alright, sorry, got to go. Sorry about dropping it, again!” You patted the stranger’s lower arm, smiled up at the wide eyes and made a beeline for the small table Heejin was sitting at.

“Heyy!” She greeted you, lifting her bottle and looking visibly relieved. “Thought you’d drowned in the storm! What took you so long?”

“Haha!” You huffed, not really angry. “The streets are swimming, I had to make sure I didn’t accidentally walk off a cliff!” That seemed to settle her, and she took a swig of her drink.

The air inside the bar was warm and filled with noise by the people inside it – likely most of the tiny town’s residents. It would’ve been stuffy, too, if it weren’t for the windows that were all propped open the smallest bit to let the breeze smelling like sweet rain and salty sea be blown in.

“What’s with the candles?”

Heejin leaned in close to hear you before nodding.

“Power went out. They really need to fix the lines and the generator, this is the second time it’s happening during storm. The salt gets to the lines, you know.”

You nodded and caught the eye of the bartender. She nodded and, pleased with your work, you settled back into the crummy chair.

Around three the storm calmed down, and it was around that time you and Heejin decided to head home, too. Leaving before the barkeeper kicked you out was always a good thing and meant you knew your limits which automatically put you on the good list of any respectable bartender, and besides, it wasn’t like Heejin and you didn’t have something to go home to.

Dawn was far beyond the horizon, especially with those thick clouds still covering the sky. Not even gulls were awake yet as you and Heejin walked with your arms around the other’s back, breathing in the fresh scent of the town scrubbed clean.

“You should come by more often.” She sighed, putting her head on your shoulder. You smiled.

“I would, but I do have a degree to finish and some kind of job that’s waiting for me out in the world. But I promise I’ll always come back to you.”

She huffed, seemingly not entirely satisfied.

“Hey, I’m spending every second weekend of summer here, do you know how many hours that are on public transport? Not to speak of-“

“Alright, alright!” She laughed, touching her free hand to your shoulder, grinning. “I rest my case, don’t worry. It’d just be nice to have you around more. Even more.”

You shook your head and fished out the key from the bottom of your shorts’ pocket as you approached the salt and sun bleached wooden gate leading into the weathered garden surrounding Heejin’s house.

It was small, had been Heejin’s Grandmother’s before the old woman had passed away unexpectedly years ago. Unsure of her future in the city, with her family placing the weight of responsibility for the business on her older brother’s shoulders, Heejin had leapt at the chance to escape it all and settle for slow life on the border of the ocean.

You’d asked her, during one of your many visits, lounging on a sundeck chair in the garden that couldn’t have won many prizes for its beauty if it’d tried. You’d asked her, if she regretted it – dropping out of Uni, coming here.

Putting a screeching halt on the modern life of decadence and decent luxury she’d had in the city.

“It’s scary, a bit.” Heejin had said, swirling the virgin tequila sunrise in her glass – an old mason jar. “Everything’s so different, you know? But I like it. I feel like I can do good here.”

And that had been enough for her, and by extension, for you.

What had been her Grandmother’s study slash miniscule library had turned into a sort-of guest room with a bed and some other necessities. It couldn’t really be called a guest room, as it was only you who ever slept there, and you and Heejin had a queerplatonic relationship going on and to call yourself a ‘guest’ under those circumstances didn’t fit very well.

“Where’d you leave my toothbrush!” She yelled from the bath while you were still busy hanging her and your own coat properly so all the dampness would be gone in the morning.

“I don’t know, I didn’t touch it!” You shouted back, hopping on one foot after pulling your shoes off with your feet and almost losing your balance. The underside of your sock stuck to your sole after you stepped in a puddle of water and you caught yourself on the door frame to the bath, face showing the sheer disgust you were experiencing right now as you briefly caught your reflection in the mirror.

Heejin, having found her toothbrush and already scrubbing away, couldn’t contain a laugh at your misery and sprayed your face and shirt with a fine mist of white bubbles.

“Thanks.” You deadpanned, sidling up to her and wiping at the spots visible in the mirror.

“Sorry.” She said around her brush. “What happened?”

“Stepped into... fucking water, is what happened.” Putting your own brush into your mouth, you sat back on the closed lid of the toilet and tugged at the wet sock until it came off and you could wriggle your toes in the air.

Heejin laughed again, and you could still hear her giggling as you laid down on the comfortable bed, surrounded by the smell of books and faintly, the sea.

“Shut up woman!” You shouted, grinning yourself. She cackled loudly but still wished you a good night, which you gladly returned.

The sun wasn’t out when you woke, but that might’ve been because of the clouds still hanging around. Or maybe Heejin had drawn the blinds yesterday and not told you; but either way, when she touched her hand to your shoulder and said she’d go see what the bakery had that’d make a good breakfast, you only hummed in agreement.

She pressed a loving kiss to your temple and you had made the effort of squeezing her hand, and then she’d left again.

You had half the mind of asking her if she had taken her keys but by the time the thought process had reached the point in your brain responsible for signalling your mouth to talk, the front door had shut and all attempts had been voided.

Whatever.

You really weren’t used to such long nights anymore, you thought to yourself, and sighed and rolled onto the other side, tugging the blanket around you a little tighter.

How great it was it was Saturday, and you didn’t have to be anywhere but here.

It felt like five minutes later, at most, when you were roused from sleep again.

You lifted your head.

The house was silent.

What?

Then came knocking on the front door, and not the gentle knuckles on wood kind most everyone did here, but the loud one from the old fashioned metal knocker, almost eaten by the rust.

Grumbling, you sat up.

Did Heejin think this was funny? Knocking this loudly? Did she really think you were sleeping so deeply!

Not bothering with any more than what you were already wearing – underwear – you haphazardly made your way down the crooked stairs, eyes not even fully open when you reached the door.

The knocking came again, loud, so loud, pounding in your ears that were filled with the sound of rushing blood and-

“Heejin I swear to the good lord, wh-“

Where Heejin’s head would have been was someone’s chest.

Blinking against the brilliant white of the even clouds, you lifted your eyes.

“Ha- Hello.” Soft cheeks and windswept hair, and dark eyes that looked at you far too intently for such an early hour. Was it? Still early?

He bit on his lips and had his shoulders squared, but only when you took note of the soft leather and the stitching on it did you make the connection.

“Oh! Oh, my god! The fur vest! It’s you! Hi.” A breeze curled into the small hallway, and the last of the bed’s warmth stripped from your skin. Shivering, you felt a bit indecent. Almost exposed, as it was – still the guy’s eyes did not waver or drop from your face, which was a stellar behaviour.

“Can I help you? Did I get dirt on your vest, I’m really sorry-“

He smiled, releasing his full lips for the first time, and softly shook his head, effectively shutting you up. He’d reached out with his hands, as if to gesticulate, but settled on clasping his wrists.

“No, it’s nothing like- Please, can I come in?”

“Uh- This is my friend’s house, so I don’t-“

“It really is urgent.”

Something about the way he talked seemed a bit off. You stared at the flat stone acting as the doorstep for a moment.

“I’m sorry, who were you again?”

His lips widened into a full smile – still somewhat shy, though. He puffed his chest a little.

“Kim Seokjin. If it helps, I’m friends with Heejin?”

It was like he tried to sound the most proper way he could, like he was putting special emphasis on pronouncing every syllable correctly.

You were too tired for any of this. Had Heejin ever mentioned him?

“Um... Sure, just- Here, head down through the door into the living room, I’ll grab... some clothes and- be there in a minute, alright?”

You opened the door wider to allow him in, and he leaned down to quickly hug and press a short kiss to your cheek before continuing to where you’d pointed him.

You stood stock-still, the door handle still in your palm, utterly confused.

What had happened?

Head still void of thoughts you took the stairs two steps at a time, dove into Heejin’s room, grabbed one of her spare blankets from where she kept them folded over the old box by her bed, and then hastened back down, silently wishing for her to come back soon.

Wrapped in the soft knitted sheet, you stopped to breathe deeply, and collect yourself a little. Everything would be fine. Of course it would.

“Would you like something to drink?”

Kim Seokjin turned away from the small shelve with Heejin’s favourite books and little keepsakes, looking a little like you’d caught him doing something he wasn’t supposed to. Your gaze zeroed in on the framed picture of you and Heejin, a candid a friend of yours had snapped of you sitting on campus. He tried to push it back in its place and you looked up into his eyes again.

“Wh-what,” He weakly asked, ears a fierce red.

“Would you... like tea? Coffee? A glass of water?”

“I’m, I’m fine thank you.”

You left the door, came towards the couch.

“Actually, just a glass of water would be lovely, if... you don’t... mind?”

His voice got quieter towards the end, but you managed a smile and soon returned with two glasses, a water carafe and a bottle of orange juice on a small tray.

“If you’re looking for Heejin, she’ll be back soon.” You lowered yourself on the couch, and Kim Seokjin did the same in the small armchair across. Folded into it, he looked even larger than in the pub yesterday night. He nodded, and then he shook his head, opened his mouth but didn’t bring any words out.

He downed almost half of his water, and then his fingers wouldn’t let go of the glass. After seeing his knuckles turn pale, you swallowed the juice in your mouth and decided to try again.

“So... What’re you here for, again?”

That seemed to sober him up. He leaned forward and put the glass on the table, and then sat at the edge of his seat, with his palms pressed between his knees.

“So, you see,” He began, his eyes flickering from here to there until they finally landed on you and stayed on you. It seemed like his body let out a huge sigh. “I figured-“ He reached into his pants’ pocket and produced something small he hid in his hand. “This is for you.” And held it out to you.

You didn’t move, staring between his hand and his face.

“What?”

He came around the couch table, nervously sitting closer to you, and you let him take one of your hands off the glass and put a small bag of rough fabric in your palm.

A small, shimmering pearl came tumbling out of the pouch. Understanding less and less, you furrowed your eyebrows at the visitor.

“I’m sorry, I don’t have a ring just yet- Everything went so fast and the shops aren’t open that early, so I figured- I mean, after all, it would only be proper for us to get married by human standards as well, so please accept this as my wedding gift, until I can give you the ring later.”

You stared into those big, brown eyes.

“I’m sorry, I think you’re confusing me with someone else.” You put the pearl back into its pouch and wound the string around the end to keep it securely inside, but when you tried to hand it back, he wouldn’t have it.

“No, no it’s yours, you can’t give it back! –That wouldn’t be proper.”

“Okay? Okay.” You put the satchel down next to your glass and rubbed your hands over your face. Heejin would be back any second, and she’d surely help you get this lunatic out. She’d be back any minute. “Okay, first of all... We’re not getting married, I have no idea who you are, and? What...”

He smiled, wider than seemed acceptable at the moment. Giggled, even.

“Oh, you don’t want the ceremony? That’s okay, more time for us, then. There’s so much I want to know about you, and you have to simply tell me everything! Le-“

“He-Hey hold on, wait, a minute? Ceremony? What? What are you talking about?”

“You gave me my pelt back, I figured you’d want the proper human ceremony, to make it official on your side, too.”

“You... are human too, you know that, right.”

This time he really laughed, once, dropping his head. When he looked up again his eyes sparkled with mirth.

“Oh, funny, you’re funny, I like that. We’ll do well together, I’m sure of it.”

“You-“ He’d inched closer on the couch, and you stood up to bring some distance between you. “We are not getting married, I have no idea who the hell you are, and please, leave now. I’m not even sure Heejin really knows you, she never mentioned you and as crazy as you sound, that’s a huge thing. So, please, if you could just-“

All humour dropped off his face, but it didn’t turn bitter or blank either.

“O-oh, you... You want me to leave you alone so soon, ah... Okay, well.”

He rose, and though he towered above you, looked very small. It appealed to a thin sliver of you, those heartfelt, sad eyes and the hunched over posture, but you fought it down, unwilling to cut this maniac some slack.

“Hurry up, would you?” You huffed as his steps towards the front door came almost in slow-motion.

By the coat rack he turned to look back over his shoulder, bottom lip sucked into his mouth again, the corners turned down.

You looked away as you noticed a tear roll over his cheek. What the hell was going on?

“I suppose...” He faltered in front of the jackets, running his palms over his vest and grabbing its edges. His voice had lost all of the cheery brightness from before, was now solemn and downtrodden. “I suppose you’ll want to keep this, then.”

And he began to shrug out of it, until you stepped closer, put a hand to his arm, looked up at him through bewilderment.

“Why would I want that? It’s your vest, why would I-?”

He froze mid-taking it off, sniffled and blinked and by now there were thin trails of wetness running down his cheeks, and his ears were still red and his nose began to colour too and even though you’d never really met him before yesterday he still looked so lost and sad that it tugged on your heart.

“Listen-“ You began, at the same time he was starting to say “You-“, and both of you were interrupted when the front door opened and Heejin stood there, panting, with a paper bag in her hand and a rolled up newspaper under her arm. Her hair curled a little and with the thrown open door the wind came blowing in, carrying a few drops of rain inside before she shut the opening. Obviously having run from the rain, she pushed her hair back, the elated smile on her face twisting into confusion as she took in the two of you.

“Seokjinnie, I didn’t know you wanted to stop by-”

Her eyes landed on your hand on his arm, her eyebrows lifted. The smile returned to her face. “Oh, you two know each other?! _______, why didn’t you say anything, ever, we could’ve-“

“They don’t.” Kim Seokjin said, his voice coated. The smile trickled off Heejin’s face again. A bit embarrassed you took your hand back, and he pulled his vest back on all the way. “Heejin, if you could-“

Her eyes left him for you, and you tried to convey just how helpless and confused you felt. Something settled on her face, and she nodded, but it hadn’t been directed at you.

“Do you want to stay?” She asked, directed at the tall male. He cleared his throat.

“I guess that’s easier.”

“Come on then, both of you. Time to sit down.”

She pushed between you and tugged you forward, with Kim Seokjin trailing after you.

Since the couch wasn’t that big that it could’ve comfortably housed all three of you, Heejin took one for the team and sat on the couch table between you, looking as serious as she could. It was a little unsettling.

“What’s going on.”

Kim Seokjin took a breath, got choked up, and broke off. Seeing him struggle and desperate to get this off your chest and Heejin on your side, you jumped at the opportunity to explain yourself.

“He showed up here this morning, saying stuff about a marriage and ceremonies and he kissed my cheek? I’ve never met him before but he said you were his friend? You never mentioned him? Or am I losing my marbles here? I mean I never met him before yesterday night, at the bar, but-“

“I was about to head home,” He said, voice laced with tears and his fingers interlocked in his lap. “I was about to go, and then they- My pelt fell off the rack, and they-“ He swallowed and looked at you, causing Heejin to turn her head, too. At the centre of attention, you focused on your own knuckles.

“And they gave me back my pelt. No questions asked. Just like that.” He whispered the last sentence, and you forcefully relaxed your feet. Wouldn’t bring anyone any good to get a cramp now.

Heejin sighed, but it didn’t sound condescending.

“I understand.” She stated. You looked back to her.

“You do?”

She nodded.

“Great! Then can you please explain him-“

“_______, Seokjin is a selkie. Do you know what that means?”

You blinked. “The... The Seal Spirits? But they’re...” Your gaze found his, and the words ‘not real’ died in your throat. You closed your mouth and swallowed.

The silver fur on his vest suddenly seemed a lot brighter than before.

“But...” You tried again, mind blanking at what to do next.

“To give a selkie their coat back means as good as marrying them, in their tradition. That’s why he came here this morning, to make it ‘official’ from your side, too. Did you accept his gift?”

“I didn’t-“

Seokjin nodded silently, pointed at the little pouch still next to your glass with juice.

“They don’t want me.” He said then, voice wobbling and tears collecting under his chin. “I w-waited so long and now-“

“Can you give us a minute? I’ll come see you upstairs, okay?”

Thoughts flurrying, all you could do was nod. “-Sure. Yeah, I’ll... I’ll wait, yeah. Okay.”

And you collected the blanket around you and left for the stairs.

Seokjin’s pressed sob was the last thing you heard before closing the door and climbing the stairs.

By the time Heejin softly knocked on your door you had freshened up, got dressed and combed your hair. She closed the door behind herself and crossed her arms over her chest, leaning against the wood.

“Can you please help me because I am... Extremely lost right now.” You confessed, sat on the wooden, revolving chair in front of the old, creaky bureau.

Heejin sighed again, and now she did sound tired.

“Yeah. You got yourself in quite the pickle this time, not going to lie...”

You stayed silent, hoping she might elaborate. After another intake of air, she did.

“So, dear Seokjinnie is a selkie, and you happened to give him back his coat, and without conditions, too, so yesterday, when you did, it was like... Like a dream come true for him. You gave him his pelt back without any demands, basically saying ‘I’ll take you as you are and we are one now’, and Jin, not knowing you had no idea, came to see how you would proceed, and now we’re here.”

“But I didn’t- If I’d known he’d think that I wouldn’t have given him his coat! I mean hand it to him. Gosh, what- And now? What now? Can’t he understand this was a mistake? A, a, an accident? –Does he think I own him now?” Panic seeped into your words, and Heejin was quick to shake her head and reach out her hands placatingly.

“No, no no, they have their traditions but they’re aware that people don’t-“ She sighed again. “No, I explained to him you had no idea what he was and what that action might cause, and he understands that, it’s just... He’s a huge romantic, you know? Has always spouted about how when he finds someone that’ll be it, he’ll be that person’s, faithful to one and only one, ever. And all the soulmate stuff and fated one and all that in the books didn’t do much good, with how Selkie’s treat their history and- Can you... Follow me? Where I’m going with this?”

“I think... Maybe? I think I can, yeah... Can’t I just- Break off this marriage? Or... engagement? Whatever that is between us?”

“Technically yes, as you already ‘gave him back’ his pelt and he is as such free to go, but... This is very complicated. If you’d be okay with it, we could go downstairs and sit in the living room and talk while Seokjin is there? He’ll know better answers to all of the specific questions, I promise.”

Still feeling a little light-headed, you nodded. Before Heejin could open the door, you held her back.

“How long have you known? That he’s selkie? That they... exist?”

She pulled back from the door, covered your hand.

“I came to know after my Grandma’s funeral. She was somewhat of a... A warden or, a keeper of peace between the merfolk and the town. A bit like a mediator, because there’s a lot of Selkie’s living amongst humans these days, and all that. Seokjin was among the small group that approached me, to ask if I knew anything of my Grandma’s heritage or if I’d follow her footsteps.”

“So that’s the whole ‘doing good here’ was about.”

She nodded. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you more, I really am-“

You shook your head, squeezed her hands.

“No, don’t apologize. You kept their secret, that’s- That’s important. Don’t worry, okay?”

“Thank you for understanding.” She smiled at you, and you dared to smile back.

Kim Seokjin was a heap on the couch when you came back in the room.

The skin around his eyes and nose was red and a bit puffy, but the tears had dried and he blinked against letting any more escape.

Even though you understood who he was a little better now, it still felt weird to think of him as your husband when you took your seat next to him once more.

It was too soon for any of that.

Heejin resumed her position on the couch table – fully embracing her role as mediator, evidently – and looked from him to you.

You turned to the Selkie, fully turning your torso so you really did face him.

“I’d like to apologize. I had no idea about any of this, and- I’m sorry for doing this to you. All of... This.”

He swallowed and nodded slowly.

“I know- I know basically nothing about Selkies other than the thing with their coat; when you hide it, they can’t go back to the ocean, and so on. But I don’t- I’d never do that. And I will never do that. And I, I was wondering, if there was- Any way of... not doing this? Marrying and all of that, I mean.” He blinked, and Heejin shifted, and hastily you continued. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, you’re really pretty-“ He turned his eyes away and dropped his head a little, as if ashamed. “-and I’m sure you’re a really sweet guy, but I barely know you and wouldn’t it be better for you to marry out of love and not because... Because some dumb person accidentally proposed to you in a manner they didn’t even know about?”

“But it happened.” He said, voice small. “You did, if you meant to or not, and if you want to, you can have me. I’m ready to live with you. Unless... Unless you don’t-“

Heejin reached out and rubbed his knee comfortingly, and he collected himself.

“Unless you reject me, and tell me to go back to the sea. I would do that for you, too, live as a seal again. But, if I may, I would-“ He held eye-contact with Heejin, even though his head was turned towards you. “I would like for us to give this a try, before y- we, break apart.”

It seemed like he’d practiced saying it, for when he finished and his eyes glanced at you, his shoulders sagged down a little.

You leaned forward.

“This is all a lot.” You stared between Heejin’s socked feet. “Like, a lot. Can I- May I think about this? About... you, and me? Just-“ Your eyes found the clock on the old piano, focused on the pointers. “Until six pm? Give me time to think this over until then?”

You caught Heejin giving him an understanding, but still questioning look, thumb still rubbing over his knee.

He looked from her to you.

“Yes,” He agreed, swallowing bravely. “Okay. Six pm.”

Heejin invited the Selkie for breakfast, as she’d bought way too much, and even though you’d been reluctant to agree at first, it turned out to be nice.

He’d taken a glass of homemade marmalade that Heejin’s Gran had made, weighted it in his hand and Heejin, apparently knowing what was coming, had been barely able to contain her giggles before Seokjin had said “This is my jam!”. It had eased the way into chatting with him, about his visits to town, his friendship with Heejin, among other things.

He was funny, you had to admit that, and could also eat a lot. After munching through three rolls with various toppings he finally leaned back, satisfied at last.

Even though food coma must’ve been upon him, he helped in clearing off the table and putting everything back in the fridge, wiped the surface and then even stuck around long enough to help with the dishes.

The sun finally broke through the clouds as the hour neared two, and Heejin packed a bag for the beach.

It was warm again, summer having come back in full force after the cool down of the storm last night.

Clouds gathered over the horizon, far out over the water, but the sky spanning above you was clear and blue.

Baking in the sunlight and listening to the waves and the gulls crying out it was almost easy to forget the decision you had to make by the time the early evening came.

Seokjin had excused himself for now, going about his own business, and so you were left alone with Heejin and your thoughts.

“You really don’t have to do it, you know.”

You cracked an eye open and saw her lying next to you on her stomach, open book in the sand. It was a new softcover, otherwise her Grandmother would’ve likely been turning in her grave.

You sighed. “I know this is probably weird but-“

She glared at you. You hurried to backpedal.

“I mean, I guess in the big picture it’s not that weird, but I kind of... He really is cute, isn’t he?”

That got her laughing.

“He is. And he can dance, and sing, and loves to cook, and it’s a miracle nobody from this tiny village has dated him yet.”

The waves were light blue where they rolled on the shore.

“This affects you, too, though. I mean, I was with you first, doesn’t this- Isn’t this like marrying your side hoe? Or something?”

She laughed again and closed her book to turn her sun warmed face to you.

“I mean technically, yes, but under these circumstances I’d be willing to let you have your side hoe. We could still see each other? And...” She trailed off, squinting over the water.

“What?”

“I don’t want to get ahead of myself. Forget it.” A small smile played around her lips.

“What.” You poked her arm.

“I was just thinking-“ She slapped your fingers away. “-Hypothetically, if you do accept him, and you go off to have your thing, it would be nice if you moved in with him. Like a shared house. Preferably somewhere by the ocean, like... here.”

Her smile simmered down, and she looked at you again. “It would be nice to have you around again, you know?”

It wasn’t the first time she said that, and it wasn’t the first time you toyed with the thought what moving here permanently might be like.

“But if I move here I won’t be able to attend my lectures. And I really want that degree, I worked so long for it-“

“You could always do online classes.” Heejin dragged a finger through the soft sand, sneaking glances at you.

“Half the houses here don’t even have WiFi, and the internet café would cost a fortune if I stay holed up here for eight hours a day.” You shot back. Heejin pouted, still drawing swirls into the sand. You’d had this argument before.

“There’s new houses being built uphill, they have WiFi there. Or will have, when they’re done.”

That was new.

“Those would be too high of a price range for me.” Both of you had lost your playful snark. Before she could answer to that you shook your head, huffing.

“Look at us, debating on where I should stay with the strange Selkie I’m married to. Life is crazy.”

“So you will?” Nothing on her face let you know if she really did sound hopeful of if that was just your imagination.

You sighed.

“Honestly... I mean, I can try. We’ll see about the whole married-in-human-terms, but for now... He can’t be so bad. Is he?”

She shook her head so hard you got dizzy just by watching.

“He is not.” She confirmed.

You shrugged and rolled on your back, blinking against the bright sun.

“I guess, I could try. If he’s as nice to be around like at breakfast, and like you said... It feels a bit like cheating though, you know?” She looked at you, raised a brow with interest. “I mean, everyone else dates and breaks up and then there’s me, having been with you for the last years, and now suddenly I have a husband.” You turned your tongue over after saying that, feeling all sorts of strange at using that word. “Husband. How that sounds, too.” You shook your head. “It seems so crazy.”

“You do!” Kim Seokjin echoed, after you’d repeated the words to him at shortly past six, with Heejin rumbling in the kitchen and preparing to cook an early dinner. “You really do? You want to try?”

“Yes.” You said, carefully reaching out across the gap between you two on the couch and covered his balled up hands with yours.

His eyes were swimming again when you shyly looked up into them.

“Can I,” He cleared his throat, never losing eye-contact. “Can I please hug you? Oh me, I’m so-“

You nodded, and he lurched forward, wrapped you up in his arms and then you were flush against his chest with your cheek against the soft skin of his pelt.

“-happy.” He finished, mumbling the words in your hair and tightening his hold.

And it felt nice.

You still had no idea who he really was, apart from all which you did know, but that was what the next weeks would be for, you supposed.

“So, you’ll stay.” Heejin said over a spoon full of broth. You nodded, with a lot more collected Kim Seokjin on the other side of the kitchen table.

“That’s good, ‘cause you see...” She blew on the broth and then dropped the spoon back down, erasing her progress. It didn’t seem to matter, her eyes were glistening and her hands clasped under her chin. “I kind of got my mother to invest in the houses being build uphill, and as such you can pick one for yourself! A branch of my family’s business will rent them out to whoever wants, but you’ll be able to live there as long as you want. For only a small rent, of course.”

You dropped your spoon.

“Heejin-“

She lifted a finger.

“I’m not saying I planned this, because I didn’t, but I had the hope that if I had a little more to offer than a creaky bed in my makeshift library, I might be able to persuade you to come out here more often, and maybe get you to stay longer, too. And now... Now it might work out, after all!”

Kim Seokjin’s eyes switched from your friend to you.

“I know you don’t live in town, but where do you usually live? The truckstop a few kilometres from here? Or on the other side of the forest?”

You looked from him to Heejin, and then back.

“Um, Kim Seokjin-“

“Seokjin. Or Jin. Or, anything, really, is fine.”

“Seokjin, I- live a little further than just the stop or the forest.”

“That’s okay.” He said quickly, stirring his soup in its bowl. “I haven’t really... I mean, I never really left town much. On the occasion of walking around.”

You nodded, and suddenly felt a bit bad again.

“_______ will be back second next week. They always visit every second weekend.”

“So long.” Seokjin mumbled, and you quietly reached out your hand to tap it to his.

“I’ll just- I’ll need time to sort things out a bit, and transfer all my stuff online, but- As soon as the house is finished, I’ll probably be able to come and live here.”

“Speaking of which,” Heejin clapped her hands and startled both of you. “We can go look at them if you want?”

“What, now?” Seokjin’s eyes were wide as he desperately looked down on his bowl.

“Maybe tomorrow.” She added, faced with his distress. “It’s Sunday anyways, so nobody will be around. It’s the perfect time!”

She was right concerning that.

The houses were sprinkled over a plateau halfway up the hill, visible from the town but not so that they had really caught your eye before.

There was one, furthest out from the gravel road that had been put down already, with its balcony positioned just right so you could see both sunrise and –set.

Only the walls and the stairs were built, and a roof, but the balcony was there already. Seokjin came out to where you were standing with your hands in the pockets of your shorts, well away from the handrail-lacking edge. You turned your head and observed him, how he let his eyes roam from the horizon to the town nestled about a half-hour walk down the hill.

Even before he focused on you and shyly reached out his hand, asking for you to hold it without words and then smiled, you knew he had made a decision.

“I like this one.” You said, rubbing a thumb over the back of his hand. It felt very nice to do so.

“Me too.” He mumbled, eyes not letting go of your gaze as he answered your touch and tightened his fingers briefly.

“You wanna choose this one?”

He nodded, buzzing with energy now that the decision had been made.

“Heejin?”

You leaned around the opening that would one day hold the door, and found her with her phone out.

“I think we’ll take this one.”

Besides you Seokjin’s smile widened. He tugged on your hands a little, and even though he refrained from leaning his head against yours, you could see the happiness radiate from his action.

“Thank you.” He whispered, not for the first time.

“Who knows, maybe I’m a terrible flatmate and you’ll really regret moving in with me... Maybe I leave dirty clothes everywhere... Maybe I never shower... Maybe-”

He wrinkled his nose.

“I’ll lo- I mean, I will like you either way.” He spoke bravely, but still searched your face for a response. You grinned, and he did, too.

“Yah, are you two done?” Heejin yelled from below.

Neither of you had noticed her going down.

It still felt very new and like you shouldn’t be able to do it, but you disentangled your hands and wrapped the freed arm around his waist. He hummed, smiling, eyes sparkling.

AN.: you can also find this and everything else i’ve written on my ao3 runningfaucet

if you enjoyed reading this, please let me know what you liked best in the comments :)

[beerandpresentdanger]

Something in the Water

These fragments are all culled from a larger piece of work about beer, family, place and memory that is still fermenting somewhere in my head. I was inspired to finally put out a flight of snippets in response to Boak & Bailey’s #BeeryLongReads2020 challenge

* * *

Say, for what were hop-yards meant, Or why was Burton built on Trent? Oh many a peer of England brews Livelier liquor than the Muse, And malt does more than Milton can To justify God’s ways to man.

A.E. Housman, A Shropshire Lad

* * *

The first sip of a pint of ale made in Burton upon Trent can be off-putting to a newcomer. There’s something intangibly difficult about it, a shrugging note of unpleasantness that many find unsettling - a mineral toned, brackish kind of scent, that most immediately brings to mind sulphur; that distinct, diffuse, almost rotten egg character that you find in the water of towns that marketed themselves as spas, and once sold their healing properties to gullible Victorians with chronic nerve conditions.

Connoisseurs have a name for it, likening it to the fleeting sensory overload of an old-fashioned match being struck in a dark, draughty room. 

They call it “The Burton Snatch”.

* * *

My father’s family have always lived in Burton and its surrounding villages, nestled among the hills and valleys between Staffordshire and Derbyshire. My great-grandfather was a farmer and a money-lender, who kept a cast iron safe in the living room with a lace doily and a bowl of fruit on top. He would open it up on Sunday evenings to take stock, counting out the large paper notes on his scrubbed wooden table while the rest of the family looked on.

My grandfather, Jimmy, was a promising football player who did a stint with Burton Albion, before going into business in the town, setting up Farrington’s Furnishers in two large units on the Horninglow Road. It was the kind of traditional, rambling shop that doesn’t exist much anymore - a haphazardly laid-out assembly of sofas, beds, dressers and wardrobes, tables, chairs, footstools and chests of drawers. At the back, there was a room full of rolls of carpet, piled high to the ceiling. My father and his brothers were playing there when the news came over the radio that JFK had been shot.

* * *

Brewing has happened in Burton for centuries, but the process really began millennia ago, when the substrata of the Trent valley settled with deep deposits of sand and gravel, a unique and serendipitous combination of minerals that built the foundations for everything that was to follow. An unusually high concentration of sulphates from the gypsum, coupled with healthy reserves of calcium and magnesium and low levels of sodium and bicarbonates, meant that when springs eventually burbled forth from the land around the river, the water had its own particular and unique character, a distinct presentation that the French might call “terroir”.

Beer-making started in earnest when an abbey named Byrtune was raised on the banks of the Trent, and the brothers did as all good monastic orders did, growing their own crops, raising their own livestock, and brewing their own beer. Over the centuries, the reputation for the region’s fine ale grew and spread, until the secret could no longer be kept.

When the canals came to Burton they made it into a city of industry and empire. Tentacle-like, capitalism stretched and unfurled its penetrating waterways across, through and over Albion’s gentle hills, bypassing the wild weirs of the Trent’s natural descent, domesticating the landscape and bringing uniformity, neatness, and standardisation to what was a tangle of disparate places and processes. By the middle of the 18th century, the Trent Navigation had been connected to the Humber, to the mighty Mersey, and down through Birmingham to the Grand Union, and suddenly, Burton was now a central hub functioning as part of a single network that ran throughout the country and onward, through its bustling ports, to Europe, Russia, and all points beyond. 

* * *

Once their children grew up, my grandparents also left for the continent. Nearly every summer holiday of my childhood was spent visiting them in Portugal. Their home, known only as “The Villa”, was an idyllic place, where my brothers and I learnt to swim, where the smell of barbecue smoke lingered over every evening, where the coarse Mediterranean grass hurt our feet when we tried to play football on it. When I was young, I only really knew my grandparents in this sunlit, bright blue light - tanned, shortsleeved, wearing hats. Their accents may have been rounded and roughened in the heart of England, but their very essence to me was more exotic, more glamorous, more European.

Some of my first memories of drinking come from those summer holidays. Sips of pungent sea-dark wine, acidic and overwhelming; a sample of gin and tonic, bitter and medicinal with a gasping clarity; and of course, beer - not ale, nothing my grandfather would touch - but lager, cold and crisp and gassy, a fleeting glimpse of adulthood.

* * *

Beer, like everything else in a free market of money and ideas, has been subject to fashion and changing tastes, and it was a fashion for pale ales that truly put Burton on the map. With the proliferation of the waterways, hops from Kent and barley from East Anglia could make their way to Burton where, combined with the local water, they were turned into a revelatory, and wildly popular beverage.

Breweries proliferated throughout the town. At its peak, more than 30 rival businesses competed for space, ingredients, and workers to keep the kettles boiling and grain mashing. Burton became the brewing capital of the world, home to emblematic firms like Bass, which by 1877 was the world’s largest brewery. Its famed pale ale was so acclaimed and copied that the distinctive red triangle that adorned its labels became the UK’s first registered trademark, a mark of its singular quality.

* * *

Even when my grandparents lived abroad, Burton still pulled my family to it. Christmas called us back year after year, or Boxing Day at least, catching up with uncles and aunts and first and second cousins, some removed, to sit in sitting rooms in front of three-bar fires, eating ham cobs, drinking flat Schweppes lemonade, watching World’s Strongest Man on the television. The arresting vision of a large man pulling a tractor down a runway or throwing a washing machine over a wall would be accompanied by the sound of adult chatter, long-delayed catch-ups on weddings, births, and especially deaths - distant relatives and long-lost school mates, old girlfriends with cancer scares, run-ins with the police.

One uncle, who worked in a brewery like a true Burtonian, kept terrapins. I would gingerly feed them sunflower seeds, holding my hand above the dark waterline of the cramped tank, waiting for the vicious snap to emerge from the depths. “Pedigree doesn’t travel well,” he once told me, referring to a renowned local bitter. Some things cannot leave Burton behind.

* * *

Burton’s skyline doesn’t have church towers, it has fermentation vessels. Over the decades, as companies have merged, collapsed, consolidated or been taken over with some hostility, the name on the side of the largest set has changed, so that what drivers on the bypass see reflects whatever corporate overlord assumes feudal control in that particular age.

In the middle years of the twentieth century, brewing, like many industries, saw the white hot intensity of competition eliminate all but the largest of breweries. Experts will tell you that the beer suffered along with it, accompanied by punitive taxation from the government and a nannying attitude to pubs and drinking, the hangover of Victorian prudishness being enacted by the grandchildren of those who first envisaged it. Tastes changed under the weight of global pressures, and ultimately, Burton lurched along with them, becoming, through a complex web of corporate exchanges, the brewing site of Canadian brand Carling Black Label. 

In the ensuing decades, Carling would become the UK’s best-selling beer, a “domestic” rival to the traditional European lager brands that dominated in Germany, France and Denmark. The attritional battles left their marks on Burton though, as closures and collisions shuttered various facilities and churned through generations of workers, leaving tracts of vacant space even in the centre of town. Coming off the train now, you overlook the whole of Burton, and get the sensation of standing in the middle of a vast and scattered industrial facility, where smokestacks and grain towers overpeer gritted-teeth terraced houses, pockmarked shopping streets and vacant lots.

The make-up of the town shifted too. In the middle of the Midlands (Burton is linguistically and administratively part of the East Midlands, but geographically in the West Midlands) the town received its fair share of immigration. A town my grandparents knew as almost entirely white and Christian is now almost 10% Pakistani Muslim - a thriving community of teetotallers, in a town famous for its beer.

* * *

My grandparents celebrated their diamond wedding anniversary in 2014, flying back from Portugal to hold a party at the National Brewery Centre in the middle of Burton. It was a lovely evening, with a large cake and lots of happy stories, relatives and friends I’d never seen before and would never see again. After an early finish, my cousins and I went to a pub, drinking pints of milk-smooth ale, before ending up in a small, loud, nightclub playing cheesy pop hits. The next morning, hungover, I walked with my parents to Stapenhill Cemetery to stare at the headstones of ancestors I had never met.

* * *

There is a popular documentary series on the BBC which sees celebrity costermonger Gregg Wallace visit various sterile facilities around the UK to witness firsthand how automation and mechanisation has changed food production. Each episode has him walking through eerily empty factories, vast and cavernous spaces where robotic production lines operate 24 hours a day, speaking to the remaining human operators who exist now as mere caretakers, there to tend and nurse the machines like temple virgins, dressed in hairnets instead of togas. It is an uncanny sight. Every installment inevitably begins with drone shots, hovering silently above the landscape, showing the immense scale of these conurbations, raised in places where land is invariably cheap and generations of people have been bred into cycles of tireless shift work. But the workers are not needed any more. Efficiency has eradicated the need for fleshy points of failure.

Now, Gregg can skip through the barren hallways, silent save for the harmonic hum of perpetual machinery, flashing his blinding white overalls and quoting mind-boggling statistics about the weight of crisps the average British child eats in a year. Various natural products are ushered in off the backs of lorries and railway carriages, fed along whirring conveyor belts and pumped through pneumatic tubes, before being baked, frozen, cut, dried, soaked, dessicated, rehydrated and reformulated into whatever bland final product can now be ejected out into the world, via shipping containers and along motorways, all to sit on a supermarket shelf before making an appearance in your cupboard, a moment on your table, and a lifetime rotting away in some far-off landfill.

It was inevitable that Burton’s MolsonCoors brewery, the home of Carling, would get its chance in the spotlight. The programme highlighted the noble history of brewing, from its pre-modern farmhouse days, when fermentation was practically a shamanic ritual, to its domestication and commodification, where each step in the process was refined and perfected, to where we are now, when every aspect has been exactingly costed and painstakingly budgeted to ensure maximum productivity, and maximum profit, with minimal ingredients, energy, or intervention. There has been a backlash to this macro-attitude, of course - “craft beer”, an ill-defined, equally co-optable movement that alludes to provenance, quality, care, and a confused sense of heritage, has become a big business in its own right, backed by venture capital and crowdfunding campaigns - but industrial brewing is still the fixture in the firmament, the thing that keeps the lights on.

When one of the few remaining humans showed Gregg the tiny, almost homeopathic quantity of hops that would add a semblance of bitterness and aromatic flavour to a lake-sized vat of Carling, it felt almost like a knowing wink - look at what we can get away with - one made safe in the knowledge that their beer will still pour in nearly every pub and take up the most shelf space in corner shops and petrol stations across the country. Of course they’ll get away with it. They’ve always got away with it. They will sell us beer with barely a sense memory of taste in it, and we will literally lap it up.

* * *

My grandfather died in hospital, in Portugal, after an indeterminate period of undramatic but gradually worsening health. His four children took turns flying out to spend time with him and their mother in the hospital, sitting by his bed, holding his hand, finishing the crosswords he was no longer able to complete.

He was cremated there, but a memorial service to remember his life was held in Burton on a crisp, February day a few weeks later. Alighting at the railway station, I watched steam from the breweries crowd the startlingly cold air, while waiting for my parents to arrive and drive us the ten minutes to Rolleston Cricket Club where the small gathering would take place. On the way, we drove up Horninglow Road, past what was once Farrington’s Furnishers, now Zielona Żabkal, a Polish supermarket. We got there early and spent some time setting up, arranging the folding tables and stackable chairs, hanging up photos, and laying out some mementos of my grandfather’s happy life - a table tennis bat, some puzzle books, a golf club, his familiar white hat.

I was tasked with approving the beer for the day. There were two casks of Bass on the bar - one which had been there a few days, the other tapped that morning. “I’m a lager man,” the bartender told me, so I tried both to see which was in form. The first had the faintest tang of vinegar that suggested oxidation, a beer that was at the end of its life, drowning in the air around it. The second was lively, enthusiastic, a little overly keen and overripe, but would settle down through the afternoon as the long goose-necked pump poured pint after pint for the guests who shuffled in, in suits and raincoats, shiny shoes and walking sticks, to pay their respects. Everyone told stories. I read a letter on behalf of my cousin, working on the other side of the world. We drank many, many pints of Bass in good nick, then when we were finished, we went to a pub, and drank many more.

When I had to catch my train back to London, I staggered back through the freezing night, to find that the town was mashing in - somewhere in the vast floodlit breweries, a switch had been thrown and malted barley was being soaked in that famous hot water, and the streets were being filled with the scent of porridge and healthy, earthy grains; a warming, nostalgic tide that overflowed down the road and spilled through the centuries; riding, falling, on the biting cold air.

[coffee-n-some-cream]

Raph hadn’t been in New York City for six years. He had been living amongst the plains of an Ohio ranch since he was fifteen years old, surrounded by nothing but open space and still feeling trapped. The minute he was old enough and had enough money, he shoved everything he needed into one compact suitcase, hugged his dad and brothers goodbye, promised to call, then hopped on his bike and made the drive to his shabby little Brooklyn apartment.

Something about NYC sang in tune with Raph. When his dad had moved them out to Ohio, an attempt to give them a better life away from rising crime rates and troublesome biological families, Raph had felt like an uprooted tree. Ripped from where he was meant to be, transplanted in new soil that was never quite right. Always just a little malcontent. But here, back where he had been born and raised, something clicked into place.

And nothing was quite as ‘New York City’ as this guy named Casey Jones. In the mornings, Casey worked at a roller-skating rink, corralling sugar-high children and sneaking his little sister’s friends in through the back. At night, Casey hung out on fire escapes with a hockey stick strapped to his back, waiting for muggers to come along and do something stupid. Sometimes, after a good beatdown, he would grab a few beers. The first time Raph met him, they were on opposite sides of the bar at Merry Dog Pub. The guy’s skin was peppered with bruises, his nose was broken, he was yelling everything he said, and he was very, very drunk. Raph was closing down the joint, telling him over and over again, “We’re closing, dude, go home.”

Casey ended up sleeping on Raph’s couch that night. It was a difficult thing to maneuver, that was for sure, but Raph had things under control. He managed to sit him upright on his bike and tie his wrists together around his waist so he wouldn’t fall off, then he practically carried him up the stairs to his apartment. By the time he had a pillow under his head and a blanket over his body, the guy was asleep. Raph took that opportunity to treat some of the worst cuts on his face, but that nose was busted for good.

By the time Casey woke up the next morning, Raph was making breakfast in the kitchen.

“Hello?” Casey called, and Raph leaned out of the kitchen to look at him.

“Hey,” he said.

He got a squint in return. “Wait, aren’t you that… bartender?”

“Yep. How’s your face?”

The guy groaned. “Bad. Very bad.” He touched one hand to his face, winced, then touched it more. “Dude, did I go to the hospital last night?”

“Nope. I fixed you up last night after you passed out.” Raph returned to his scrambled eggs and guided them onto a couple plates with toast. He certainly didn’t owe the guy breakfast, but his dad had raised him to be polite, and if this random dude wasn’t a total liar (which he probably was), he had gotten all those bruises from taking on some gangbangers last night. Which was something Raph could get behind. He flicked off the stove, grabbed the plates, and walked over to the couch. The guy eyed the breakfast plate that Raph held out to him for a moment before taking it and shoving the toast in his mouth. “You don’t remember anything, do you?”

He paused and scrunched up his face. Then he looked at Raph. “Wait, did we fuck?”

Raph scoffed. “No. You were drunk off your ass. You wouldn’t leave or tell me your address. I was tired, so I just took you back with me.”

“I’ve been drunk at closing time in that pub before. Vinny just shoved me outside and closed up. Woke up on a park bench.”

“Well, you’re lucky it was me on shift and not Vinny.”

“Huh.” Casey finished his toast and started shoveling the eggs in. “That’s cool of you. Band-aids and breakfast and all that. You sure we didn’t fuck?”

“Yeah.” Raph pointed at him with a piece of half-eaten toast. “And you can repay me for all that by never getting drunk in my pub again.”

Casey shrugged. “No promises, nice bartender dude.”

“I’m not nice.”

“I’m Casey Jones, by the way.”

Raph shook his head. “Raph.”

  Casey decided to do the exact opposite of what Raph asked – he showed up at the bar every other night after crashing on Raph’s couch. Sometimes to grab a drink and chat, sometimes to ask for a bit of medical attention “whenever your shift ends, no hurry, I’m just bleeding out over here,” and sometimes these visits ended with Casey getting a little too tipsy to get himself home and him staying the night at Raph’s place. Because every time he did, it was super late and Raph didn’t want to drive him all the way to the edge of the Bronx where the guy lived.

At some point, Casey collapsed into Raph’s bed instead of his couch. Then he kept doing it, sometimes when he wasn’t even drunk. The first time, Raph’s instinct was to literally kick him off the bed, but then Casey crawled back up and they made out, so he let him stay. And Raph kept making breakfast for them every morning. And on the nights when Casey didn’t stop by for a drink, he showed up at the end of Raph’s shift to accompany him home. They started hanging out on their days off. They started watching TV together. Casey would ask him if he wanted to check out a new pizza joint down the street. One evening before work, Casey asked him to help him out in a synch and pick up his little sister from school. Then he met his dad at the 4th of July fireworks. And they both liked him.

Summer in Brooklyn turned to Autumn in Brooklyn, five months passing by in a blur of bartending shifts and late nights spent with Casey Jones. Then, one evening, Leo called.

“So what’re you doing right now, anyway?”

Raph glanced into the kitchen where Casey was microwaving popcorn for their paused X-files marathon. He had promised to spend the night in after showing up the day before with a particularly gut-wrenching bullet graze on his ribs. “Nothing, just watching TV. Jones is here right now, too.”

“Hm. You’ve been hanging out with Mr. Jones a lot lately.”

Raph frowned, because he could hear the smile in Leo’s voice. “Yeah? I guess. Not really. Don’t call him that, it’s weird.”

“I’m just glad you made a friend.” Raph could hear kitchen utensils clanking in the background as Leo prepared dinner. “Honestly, I was afraid you’d get there and spend all your time alone. You were kind of a loner in school, yanno?”

“Okay, you can stop being a mother any time, Leo.” That got a rueful chuckle.

“Hey, you’re coming for Thanksgiving, right?”

Raph tapped the TV remote against his knee and watched Casey lean against the counter and eat popcorn while pretending not to listen to Raph’s end of the conversation. “Uh, Thanksgiving.” Casey glanced at him. “Yeah, I was planning on it. Why?”

“Just checking.”

“Is he coming?” Mikey’s voice registered through the phone as he yelled from the other room.

“Yes!” Leo yelled back. “I’m on the phone, be polite!”

“It’s just Raph!”

Raph chuckled, his chest suddenly aching with how long it had been since he’d seen his littlest brother. “Hey, say ‘hi’ to those two goofballs for me, will ya? Dad, too.”

“Of course. I always do, even when you don’t ask me to.” Leo paused a moment, then said, “Hey, why don’t you ask Casey if he wants to come for Thanksgiving?”

“Leo, he has family here. Pretty sure he’s planning on spending it with them.” Raph cocked an eyebrow at Casey, who was openly staring at him now.

“No, I know, I just think it would be polite to offer. Hold on.” The ridiculously loud sound of a pot of boiling water and pasta being poured into a colander filled the phone for a moment. “Okay, sorry. I mean, you’ve known him for a while, and I’m assuming that means he’s nice, and he’s the first nice friend you’ve made since… Well. He’s the first nice friend you’ve made.”

Raph rolled his eyes. His childhood friend, whom he had affectionately nicknamed Spike, had turned into a massive, sometimes violent dick as they grew older. He ended up having to cut him out of his life entirely and it had sucked. A lot. Donnie had once suggested that the whole thing had stunted Raph’s ability to form relationships, which explained why he never made any friends afterward, and Raph had immediately told him to shut the fuck up and never speculate about his emotional health again. “Okay, you know what? I’ll ask him just so that he can say ‘No,’ and I can repeat that back to you.”

“Alright, thanks!” He could hear that smile in his voice again, and he hated it.

Casey plunked himself back down on the couch after Raph hung up, squinting at him and not offering him popcorn.

Raph reached out and snapped his fingers, refusing to sit up from his slouch. “Popcorn in the middle. You know the rule.”

Casey didn’t move. “Did I just get invited to Thanksgiving at your family’s Ohio ranch?”

Raph kept his stone-cold wall of nonchalance up, but his stomach sank with the realization that this was going to become a conversation. “Uh, yeah, I guess. Leo’s like that.”

Casey shoved a few pieces of popcorn in his mouth and ignored Raph’s glare as he continued to hold the bowl in his lap. “Okay, I accept his invitation.”

Raph felt every muscle in his body tense. Casey raised his eyebrows. The seconds ticked by as Raph didn’t speak, didn’t move, probably didn’t even breathe.

“Dude.”

Raph took in a deep breath and looked away. His hands were suddenly shoved underneath his arms, and his jaw ached from how tense it was.

“Dude.” Casey put the bowl on the floor and scooched closer. “Chill out. Christ. It’s just Thanksgiving, it’s a few days.”

Raph just shook his head. He didn’t want to talk about this right now. “Your old man been pissing you off lately or something? What’s wrong with Thanksgiving with your family?”

Casey put his hands in the air. “Oh, for fuck’s sake, Raph. You’ve met my entire family, my sister texts you regularly, my dad has your number in case the car breaks down again! My coworkers have stopped asking if we’re still together and started asking when you’re gonna move in!”

Raph choked on his own spit. “What?”

“Chill out, they’re just stupid.” He rubbed at his eyes with the fingers that didn’t have popcorn butter on them. “Just, we’ve been doing this for what, five months? Give or take?”

Raph shrugged and decided to lie. “I haven’t been counting.”

Casey rolled his eyes. “I haven’t spoken to a single member of your family. Except for that one time Mikey yelled ‘hi’ to me over the phone and I yelled ‘hi’ back. Which was cool, but not exactly what I’d call meeting him.”

“So?”

“So I want to meet them!” He reached over and shoved hard at Raph’s shoulder. “It’s fuckin’ weird that I haven’t! Everyone thinks so!”

“Who’s everyone?”

“And it would be different if you hated them, but I know you would fucking commit murder for any one of them, so that’s not it. And I’m pretty sure they think it’s weird that they haven’t met your boyfriend yet!” He folded his arms. “So I’m going to Thanksgiving.”

Raph looked away and didn’t say anything.

“Raph.”

He shook his head. He looked out the window.

“Raph.” Casey ran his hand through his hair. “Do they know I’m your boyfriend?”

Raph scoffed like he was about to say something snarky, but then didn’t say anything.

“Oh, for fuck’s – Raph.”

“They know you exist-“

“-yeah, obviously-“

“-they just don’t know that when I tell them we’re hanging out, that half the time we’re-“

“-putting our hands in each other’s pants?”

Raph put his hand over his face and stopped talking. Casey let him sit like that for a while.

“Do they even know you like guys?”

Raph sighed. “No, not really. Mikey might, I don’t know. I never told anyone.”

“Okay, why didn’t you just tell me that?”

“I don’t know, because it’s kind of fucked up that your dad told me to ‘call him whenever I need anything,’ but my dad doesn’t even know we’re dating! Because I’m twenty-one years old and living on my own, so it’s kind of pathetic that I can’t just tell my family I like guys when you’ve already introduced me to yours! Because it’s stupid!”

Casey grabbed Raph’s wrist. “Dude, stop, I won’t go to Thanksgiving, okay? I wouldn’t have pushed if I knew it was a big deal.”

“It’s not!”

Casey huffed out a laugh that wasn’t really a laugh. “Oh yeah, it is. But I’m not gonna make you come out to your family just because I came out to mine already. That would be fucked up. Just don’t worry about it, I’ll go next year.” He paused. “If you’ve told them by then.”

Raph peeked at him from beneath his hand. “No, that’s – that’s stupid. I need to tell them, I’ve been meaning to, I just- I don’t know.” Casey pulled the hand from Raph’s face and held it. “Come to Thanksgiving. Meet them. I’ll tell them.”

“Dude, don’t do it if you’re not feeling it.”

“Nah, I’m gonna.”

“We could go, but just be friends while we’re there,” he offered.

“Ugh. No. That’s…” Raph shook his head. “That would be the worst. No way.” He looked from their hands, clasped together in his lap, to Casey’s gaze. “Besides, I do want them to meet you. Even if I know that Donnie’s gonna tear apart your get-rich-quick schemes, and Dad’s gonna hate your table manners.”

Casey cocked an eyebrow at him. “Not making me less nervous to meet the family, Raph.”

“And Leo is gonna tell you all about how dangerous motorcycles are while trying to make it sound like a pleasant conversation.”

“Raph, seriously.”

“But Mikey is gonna love you.”

Casey snorted. “Gee, can’t wait.” He gave Raph a lazy grin.

Raph smiled back, and for a moment, they just sat, holding each other’s hands, and watched each other.

“Now give me the popcorn.”

“It’s almost finished, but okay.”

“Then go make more.”

Casey sighed and got up from the couch to microwave another bag.

[blankdblank]

Forgotten Pt 2

Prologue - Pt 1 -

All –

@himoverflowers, @theincaprincess, @aspiringtranslator, @sweeticedtea, @ggbbhehe4455, @thegreyberet, @patanghill17, @jesgisborne, @curvestrology, @alishlieb, @jogregor, @armitageadoration, @fizzyxcustard, @here2have-fun, @lilith15000, @marvels-ghost, @catthefearless, @imjusthereforthereads, @c-s-stars

Hobbit/LotR – @abiwim, @jotink78

X Thranduil - @evyiione, @sweetlytenacious25, @tigereyesf

“I have such big plans!” The words echoed through the grounds around the courtyard outside the town paper Dis worked in flowing into your shop signaling the arrival of the Durin brothers, Kili, the one who had uttered them led Fili and his anxious girlfriend, Sigrid, out of their rental car.

Fili chuckled wrapping his arm around Sigrid’s back halting her fidgeting with her sweater to smile at his gentle peck to her forehead before saying to his brother, “I know Ki. We’ve just got to get them down on paper.”

Kili sighed shifting his outer shirt only to drop his bag by accident making him turn and crouch to grab it. His eyes however shifted at the distant giggle raising his eye to the short and tank top wearing figure of the woman just hopping out of the back of Dwalin’s truck after handing over the last bag of supplies in the bed. A shift of a scrunchie released a wave of black curls quickly scooped up into another bun revealing just who they belonged to. On his feet again Kili nodded his head towards you saying, “Fi, that looks like Jaqi.”

Fili glanced back with a momentary pause at your tightened and matured figure even since their last visit almost a year back before he spotted the familiar tiptoed walk you did when leaning against Dwalin’s side in his usual joking conversations with you. “Doesn’t look like her.” Kili turned to him with a disbelieving furrowed expression, “It is her.”

Kili turned again mumbling to himself, “Certainly changed.”

Fili smirked guiding Sigrid towards the door of the paper saying to her, “Amad will love you.”

She nodded then smiled weakly at Kili when he opened the door for the couple mumbling, “Hopefully Tauri can catch that later flight.”

The door shut breaking off any sign of you before Dis and Vili came into view wrapping the boys into tight hugs before Sigrid was tugged into an overly eager hug of her own making her eyes widen and lips purse before forcing a smile onto her face when she was released. Dis grinned widely then said, “I am glad you are all home again! And just in time for the fair!”

The boys rolled their eyes and groaned making her swat their arms saying, “No! We are all going like we always do. It’s tradition!”

Fili grinned saying as he nudged Kili’s side, “Of course Amad.”

Vili chuckled wrapping his arms around his boy’s shoulders saying, “Now now boys, we’ve got some new faces in town and Bombur and Billa are on pies again.”

Fili/Kili, “New faces?” Grins eased onto their lips as they listened to the description of Bilbo and his boys along with their move into town and how he had acted with Thorin which obviously grew into their sharing about your time with the Doctor and his now daily lunches at the pub you joined him for ignoring the stares and comments of everyone around you.

Kili, “She’s spending time with the Doctor?! The one who shut down the diner?!”

Vili, “They do seem to get along.”

Fili, “He’s behaving?”

Dis settled down at the table they were seated around with a tray full of tea filled mugs, “Oh now, Jaqi knows what she is doing and if he crosses any lines she knows to get in contact with us.”

Kili, “How would she know? She’s been out of town for school and been under our families care since she was a kid, how would she know what to look for?”

Vili rolled his eyes, “Honestly Kili, you don’t give her enough credit.”

Kili, “But-.”

Fili nudged his arm, “Drop it Ki, she can do what she likes.”

.

Lunch came after your slow start to the day allowing you time to work on the rusted out old motorcycle you had spent the better part of a year repairing and polishing up to the now pristine matte black tank and fenders with rainbow chrome accents in layered leaves outlined with reflective branches across it. The final touches as far as a better seat and tires were left and with ordering book in hand you made your way to the pub. Through the front door you grinned at those inside giving your order then sat at the new usual table you occupied. A few minutes later when the usual two sets of plates were on the table as you flipped the page in your book. Tan slacks came into view on the Elf easing into the seat beside you curiously peering at the page you were staring so intently at.

In Valinorian you stated, “I can’t decide between the tall back or lower back for the back seat.”

With a grin he caught your eyes when you looked up at him with a curious smile, “I think the lower back would look better for your design.”

You nodded and rested the book on your lap for later, “Thank you, Nori kept saying I should be more considerate of my passengers, as if any self respecting Dwarf would sit on the back of my bike.”

He chuckled then stated with a smirk, “Then maybe you should look elsewhere.” Making you roll your eyes and lift your fork as he did the same, “Heard from Taule.”

“Ooh, do tell.”

You giggled as he chuckled then said, “In a couple days she’ll be in Rivendell to present the findings of their exhibition at Vingilote Museum.”

“I hear Rivendell is romantic this time of year.”

He chuckled again, “It also happens to be housing an exhibit of a certain Jewelia Pearisiyiae’s final collection of paintings.”

You nodded, “Ya, my great Uncle sent me a notice of their moving it again.”

He raised a brow, “Ever thought about seeing her work again?”

You sighed, “With how long she spent teaching me how to paint I can easily see her work whenever I wish, along with several drafts no one has seen from her old studio on base.”

“She taught you?”

You nodded, “To answer your next question painting is calming, but it doesn’t spark my interest. I can do it without thinking but working with my hands actually building or repairing something. Painting, it’s, beautiful but what I do, it’s useful, it’s alive.”

He grinned at you, “I understand completely. Still, should you find yourself in need of a vacation let me know, she would love to meet you finally. Any friend of mine is fully welcome in our vacations.”

“I will keep you posted.” You grinned as he did noticing the Li brothers entering the pub and staring at you both when they sat by their uncles and cousins. “Looking forward to the fair?”

“Only if I get to hang out with you.” Making you grin again in his next muffled chuckle when he started eating again.

.

Kili mumbled over his mouthful of his sandwich, “He is clearly hitting on her!”

Fili rolled his eyes, “He’s older than her Ki.”

Kili nodded, “Exactly! He’s got to be at least, twenty years older than her!”

Sigrid eyed you both then the rest of the pub, “You know, I haven’t seen a lot of Elves in town.”

Kili shook his head, “Nah, they made those new developments on the edges of Greenwood taking them out for jobs and better opportunities.”

Sigrid, “Maybe that’s why she likes talking to him.”

Kili scoffed, “She’s got our family!”

Fili chuckled, “She does also need friends Ki outside the clan.”

Kili reached into his pocket at the chime then had his expression drop only to mumble, “Another email from the bowling hut.”

Fili, “Just call her.”

Kili shook his head, “No. She said she was going to call me.”

Making Fili roll his eyes again. “Just call her. Save us all the drama.” A glance at the Hobbit entering made his lips part at the sight of the famous sculptor, “Is that Bilbo Baggins?!”

..

As he lingered around the shop and paper he did all he could to distract himself from Tauriel and her nonexistent call delving into your friendship with the mysterious Doctor. The day of the fair did nothing to calm him, it only compounded things as you climbed out of the doctor’s jeep and looped your arm around his with a soft giggle when he offered his elbow to you widening his grin with a chuckle at your soft blush. “Are you blushing?”

You giggled again, “It is flattering, having someone so chivalrous to enjoy the evening with.”

He chuckled again, “Well I do hope at least by my example whatever man trying to court you improves his game.”

You giggled again, “Ooh, not just chivalry but a power play.”

He chuckled leaning in to whisper near your ear, “Yes, and it is entirely in your favor.”

Your next grin and giggle were caught by the Durins through the entrance all commenting on your behavior and bright smile while the Li brothers took the chance to take in the details of your figure in the floral loose sheer top hanging low over your shorts and a tank top. The finishing touches were your long braid and comfortable boots at least hinting to the younger Durins at least this was not a date, knowing you had far better shoes to choose from for such an occasion.

Booth by booth you giggled your way through the fair stopping for a few challenging games to win a few small prizes before stopping in the food stand area that fed into the dance floor with the live band playing. Seated at your table you were joined by the new sculptor in town and his boys, who all grinned up at Thorin when he asked then eased into the empty seat beside him. A jaunty tune played and your hand was claimed by the Doctor again making you giggle as he stated, “My dear, a woman your age should be dancing.” You giggled again as he added, “There should be a line forming round the square for a chance to spin you about.” A quick spin later you were in the mix of the couples joining in on the circular path each were taking around the floor turning in their own circles drawing all eyes to you, at least for a moment.

With the exception of Kili who seemed to be ignoring the long awaited message from Tauriel to focus all his attention on you and your beaming smile. Between turns his eyes were trained on you and your sea of giggles at Oropher’s hushed Elvish whispers to you, all mingled with your beaming grins at the glimpses of his loving relationship with his wife he willingly allowed you to see by lowering his mental wall. Each one settling your absolute adoration of how he courted her, another whispered encouragement of the attending Elves being unable to look away from you made you giggle and say, “Taule is so lucky. I may just have to start looking for an Elf of my own.”

Making him grin then purr, “You know where a score of Elves appear to live?”

You giggled then asked, “Wouldn’t happen to be Rivendell would it?”

In a chuckle he replied, “Why yes it would.” Shifting into a hold for a slow song you rested your hands on his shoulders for.

“I did receive a letter from my great uncle, my trust starts paying off in a few months, there are some papers I have to sign, and he happens to be staying in Rivendell.”

His grin widened, “You’re coming with me?” You nodded and he chuckled giddily, “Taule is going to be thrilled to meet you finally.”

“Well I certainly hope so or this will be one awkward first meeting.”

He grinned again, “Well, flight leaves tomorrow, no need to worry already got your ticket.”

Mid giggle you asked, “You bought my ticket?”

He nodded, “I had a hunch.”

…

Your night ended with you curled up in your bed for a peaceful sleep retracing the memories he had offered you wishing you could find someone to love you so deeply as you rolled away from the Polaroid copies of pictures Dis had taken of you between her sons after insisting to finally get a picture of you at something close to a dance. This windy day had brought about something unexpected and as you sat in work little could be heard over the banging of the closed roll down door you had to keep sealed to get your work done, leaving just the small door beside it for all to use that was propped open announcing your presence there.

What you had hoped to be a peaceful day had led you to your position, hunched over the motor on the back of a boat you tossed your wrench back into your toolbox at your feet and rose on your path to the sink along the wall. Kili behind you continued in his long rant on why you should stop spending time with the Doctor. You had hoped to tell them of your trip but Kili dashed that hope and with soap being spread across your fingers you felt yourself snap as tears filled your eyes.

“Who knows what he’s planning! He just one day decides to shut down the diner and now he’s suddenly taken an interest in you! You of all people! What next? Taking your shop, the paper, the shops across the street?”

With your eyes still fixed on the sink you asked loud enough for the Durins looking on to hear over the banging of the wind hitting the metal door, “Couldn’t just possibly enjoy my company then, huh?”

Frerin stood and readied to say something as Kili fired back, “No, not with you! Clearly there is something more sinister-..”

His words broke off as you threw the towel you dried your hands with after kicking away the coveralls you had loosened to sleeves from around your waist, let drop and stepped out of, “I am so sorry Kili!” He took a step back at your agitated yet broken shout making the Durins all stand ready to break you up if you started swinging, “I am so sorry that my friendship has clearly ruined your trip home! That you feel you have to protect me from something so innocent based solely on your opinions of me!”

Kili, “Ja-..”

You swatted his hand away in its reach for your shoulder and he stepped back again in your advancing step. “I am so sorry that I obviously cannot fend for myself and clearly need you to stick up for me. As you are the ONLY one that can see some sinister plot behind my relationship with a certain Doctor, instead of focusing on why your intended is being so stubborn against doing anything remotely focused on you!”

Kili, “Now don’t turn this-!”

“Turn it where?! Back onto you, oh right, I’m not clearly near finished yet! Fuck you Kili!”

Kili, “Jaqi!”

His brows furrowed and still he back stepped at your advancing step and stumbled into Dwalin’s rapidly rising and falling chest at the pain in your tear filled eyes freeing tears over your reddened cheeks. “I am so sorry you feel the need to protect me when I couldn’t get the time of day when we were younger!” His lips parted then closed as you shouted, “I am so sorry that I am so HIDEOUS by Dwarf standards that clearly no one could possibly find a use for so much as a conversation with me without a sinister plot behind it!”

His mouth fell open along with the Durins’ at your heart breaking cry, “Which for all the Durins to choose to stick up for me on this absent minded quest of yours why it had to be the one who couldn’t grow so much as stubble till last year I have no fathomable explanation! But you don’t have to worry! I won’t ruin your vacation any longer!”

Promptly you turned on your heels and stormed for the door, gripping the handle along the way and slamming it as hard as you could stirring the stunned tears from Kili’s eyes down his cheeks. Your steps could be heard growing softer between loud bursts of wind before they returned again leading to the group flinching when you threw the door open again and stepped inside a step locking your glare onto Kili as you shouted, “And for your information! I am fun, and interesting, and by Elven standards-,” your voice dropped to a teary squeak breaking the mens’ hearts further, “I am breathtaking.” Kili’s lip quivered watching you turn again and storm to your covered spot where you straddled your bike and kick started it freeing its waking roar for the race back home again scattering dirt and pebbles as you did.

Fili turned his head to Kili, “I told you to drop it.”

Wiping his cheeks Fili walked towards the door as Sigrid passed through it with the coffee she had gotten for the pair of them asking, “Is Jaqi ok? She just raced off.”

Fili nodded, forcing a smile, “She’ll calm down. Just a bit upset.” Sigrid glanced at Kili and nodded turning with Fili to walk to Bilbo’s shop for their conversation with the sculptor.

Kili’s head turned to Thorin saying barely above a whisper, “I never said she was hideous.”

Frerin, “You didn’t have to.” Kili glanced at him, “No one had to, it doesn’t take a genius to work out what we favor as attractive.”

Kili, “I just-.”

Thorin, “What made you think she needed saving, Kili?”

Kili shrugged and Dwalin nearly growled out moving to wash his own hands for a well needed break of his own to collect himself, “We love her Kili, and we would never let anyone hurt her. But we can’t expect her to be ours solely for the rest of her life to keep her safe from a broken heart.”

Frerin, “Let her cool down Kili, then apologize.”

Kili’s mouth opened and Thorin added, “You berated her for twenty minutes today, and each chance you’ve gotten since you got here, apologize.”

Frerin glanced at his nephew, “He’s married by the way.”

Kili peered up at him as Thorin did as well, “What?”

Frerin, “When Jaqi got those stitches in her arm he mentioned he had a grandson a few years younger than her.”

Kili, “Why didn’t she-.”

Frerin patted him on the shoulder when he sat on Dwalin’s former wheeled stool, “She tried, even came in with some sort of news before you started off.”

Thorin sat beside him meeting his gaze, “And, you need to think about why you were so focused on her friendship to start with. Maybe give that girl of yours a buzz back, clear up some of that air before talking to Jaqi.” Kili nodded and wiped his cheeks drawing out his phone.

.

Angrily you parked your bike in the garage by your shared cottage you locked behind you on your path inside. In your room you started packing, not surprisingly fitting most of your clothes and a few pairs of your shoes inside along with your sketch pad and notebooks you kept for ideas on future projects. Through a turn to add your toiletries bag to your luggage you spotted the familiar jeep pulling up into your driveway. Shouldering your duffel bag you walked to the front door leaving a simple Khuzdul note for your godfathers on the fridge, ‘I will call when I land’ sitting under your turtle shaped magnet.

You opened the door as Oropher approached it with an anxious smile. Weakly he chuckled and asked, “I’m not interrupting anything am I?” As he stepped closer he noticed your pinkened eyes and lingering tear trail you had missed when you rinsed your face earlier, “What happened?”

You shook your head, “Durin nonsense.” He grinned at you wiping it away, “I know I said two, but there’s a bit of traffic around then, thought we might go a bit early if you don’t mind.”

You shook your head and grabbed your bag raising it to your shoulder and locked the door behind you on your way to the jeep. In the passenger seat you again watched those same power poles surrounded by green whizzing by you as the town faded into the distance behind you. For nearly an hour you drove until you reached the airport where Oropher parked in the long term parking. In the trunk he grabbed his suitcase and passed you your duffel bag you rested on the same arm as your satchel. Nearly halfway to Greenwood you eyed the vast number of Elves, all of whom stole what glances of you they could in your faded jeans and loose tank top mostly covered by your sheet of curls.

The line for the ticket counter went by shockingly fast and you checked your duffel along with his suitcase and accepted your ticket for the walk to the gate you would leave through. After checking in you sat in the chair beside Oropher trying to ignore the onlookers passing by as he shared more about the three week long trip, for him at least, that he and Taule had planned for to hopefully keep you entertained. A call for boarding brought you to your feet and onto the plane towards your first class seats for the nearly full days flight.

For as long as you could you sat up talking until you found yourself with your legs curled up in your seat and your head against the wall beside you for a long nap. At least until you were woken for the first meal returning you to your conversation after you eyed the eager smiles from the flight attendants both passing and tending to you. Finally you landed and shouldered your satchel stretching your legs and back on the walk out to the baggage claim. In the sea of Elves you noted at least twenty double takes and one completely frozen Elf get rammed by another distracted Elf behind him as they stared at you. The culprit behind all this seemed to be the large banner promoting your mother’s exhibit, one that when you passed it drew a sea of Elves to try and subtly snap a picture of you in front of it and along your path to the waiting driver whose eyes widened when he spotted you beside Oropher.

.

A ride later you had your bags in hand and dropped them off at the manor by the sea and joined Oropher in the kitchen where he started on the dinner as you set the table. A pounding of feet later brought your eyes to the blonde teen racing into the room and crashing into his chest in a tight hug drawing a loud laugh from him. “Little Leaf.”

His eyes lit up when he drew back saying, “You’re early! Gran’ll be back in a few from the museum.”

Oropher chuckled then nodded his head to you making the teen’s silvery blue eyes land on you earning a nervous wave from you, “Legolas, meet Jaqi.”

With a widening grin making the teen’s brow twitch up he moved closer at Oropher’s guidance forcing his hand outwards at your soft, “Hi.”

Almost reluctantly he glanced from his hand to yours on its approach then let out a relieved breath when the front door opened freeing the barefoot jean and t shirt clad teen to turn and trot to the door, “Gran! Guess who’s here!”

Oropher chuckled then shifted to your side whispering, “He’s a bit timid on handshakes.”

You flashed him a weak smile, “It’s alright, I still pause sometimes too. Mainly for the mess I’m coated in usually.” He chuckled again then turned in time to smile and move closer to the chestnut haired woman with silvery green eyes that melted against his chest, “Hello my Dearest One.”

In their hug Legolas helped you set the table carefully avoiding touching you at all until their hug broke and he stole a peck on her lips and followed her curious gaze to their guest. Again you gave a weak smile and moved closer when she offered her hand with a wide grin making Legolas glance between you curiously, “You must be Jaqiearae, welcome to our home, I hope you enjoy your stay.”

Your hand folded in hers, after you sealed your mental wall shut, and grinned at her fully only brightening her smile in return as her free hand patted your joined hands making Legolas glance between you again then to his grandfather who flashed him a wink. Softly inhaled then replied, “I’m certain I will. Hopefully I won’t interrupt your family time too terribly.”

She chuckled, “My dear, with how much Oropher has shared you practically are family.”

Her hands released yours and she patted your shoulder guiding you to the table as Oropher asked, “Thran isn’t here?”

Legolas shook his head, “Big pile up, needed all hands.”

Oropher sighed then settled into his chair, “Hopefully he can manage it in the next couple weeks.” Moving to collect the meal as Taule fetched some juice for all of you while Legolas sat across from you curiously looking you over as you twisted your hair up into a messy bun.

As the meal went on you glanced up accepting the bowl of rolls from Legolas who promptly froze when he caught the silver lining and specks in your purple irises accented by a glint of light reflected off the open window that shifted more to its left at a sea bird landing on the sill peeking in at the food on the table. Oropher caught his stare and broke your attention from him asking, “Have you been able to contact your great uncle yet?”

Wetting your lips you reached for your pocket for your phone you switched on again, “Right, nearly forgot.” Instantly your brow twitched up as you spotted the number of notifications on your social media app you used to keep in touch with the boys on their time away. Nipping at your lip you tapped your messages finding one from Galadhon already there simply reading, ‘Let me know when you get settled.’

Narrowing your eyes you mumbled, “Apparently he knows I’m here.”

Taule smiled saying, “You do resemble your Naneth greatly. I am certain it must be the people from the airport posting about you.”

“At a friend’s house now.”

Instantly he fired back, “Up for a few stops today or did you wish to put it off for tomorrow?”

You glanced up at Oropher as he asked, “He need you for papers right away?”

“He’s asking if I’m up for a few stops today.”

Oropher grinned as Taule said, “We were just going to laze about here for the evening so you won’t be missing anything.”

You nodded and messaged him back the address Oropher fed to you and said, “Might as well get it over with.” Making the couple chuckle as you stood and went to grab your leather jacket before going with Oropher to wait on the front porch. Behind the door Legolas was softly asking his grandmother about the silver in your eyes and his suspicion about you she gladly confirmed. Quietly they chatted until Legolas spotted the car pulling up then felt his mouth open at the well known Elf Lord exit the car, through the window you could hear his question, “She’s related to him?!”

The tall blonde Elf climbed out of the car and he guided you into the town car after a peck on your forehead. Papers were signed and with your phone drawn out you eyed the social media app Galadhon showed you the impact of your arrival already. Countless messages and comments popped up on your page as the followers kept rising. Every single one asking just where you had come from, wondering how they had never heard of you before. One after another brightening your lingering shadow weighing you down after your fight with Kili, all confirming Oropher hadn’t been lying and apparently your Vanyar appearance made you a rare beauty among your kin.

With papers signed you made a stop at his vacation home out here where you met his  sons, your uncles Celeborn and Galathil briefly before they had to catch their flight back to Lothlorien. Alone in the town car you were taken back to Oropher’s just a bit before dinner, where you slipped inside and eased off your jacket hearing the conversation Oropher and Taule were having with their son about his missing the trip for work. Clearly he sounded exhausted and as you passed through the house after removing your sneakers you walked out to the back porch overlooking the sea and smiled drawing out your phone to capture the sunset reflecting off the ocean that you added to your social page and sent home to Bifur and Bofur with messages that you had arrived safely.

…

…

Hours after your blow out, clearly you must have calmed down by then in Kili’s reasoning, so straight off he went to your cottage only to halt along the way at Bofur on his way back from lunch at home in hopes of checking on you. A glance at the saddened expression on his face made Kili freeze, “Bofur?”

Bofur drew in a breath saying, “Jaqi’s gone.”

Kili, “What do you mean gone?”

Bofur passed him the note Kili eagerly read, “Land? What does she mean land?!”

His eyes rose to Bofur again, “Mentioned something about her Amad’s collection being up for display in a museum few weeks back.”

Kili, “Museum?! What did her Amad do?”

Bofur raised a brow, “She was a painter. Best of her age, by some reckoning.”

Kili’s lips parted, “She never said…” he wet his lips, “When’s she coming back?”

Bofur shrugged, “Not certain. She will eventually though.”

It wasn’t until the night after in the packed pub Bofur slid through the doorway alongside Bifur, both flashing their phones showing off the pictures you had sent before Fili brought up your page and started sharing the comments only driving home your words to Kili as true. They kept pouring in and each one was more eager than the last to know more about the raving beauty with Dwarven beads in her bangs being escorted around by the Elf Lord and rumored to be dropping in on her mother’s exhibit the following day. The exhibit’s page instantly spiked in popularity and the Durins passed the phone around sharing the images of each leaving them in awe at what talent you had stemmed from before the images of your mother popped up parting their lips at how you mirrored her.

Pt 3

[the-zodiacs-written-in-the-stars]

Chapter 16: Joss Parker

He pinned his hair tightly to a bun to have it out of the way. Sometimes, he liked to wear it open even when he was feeling rather male. The problem was that with the hair open, he was much more likely to be misgendered and it was just... easier. Also, he looked incredibly handsome with his hair in a bun. Some men just looked like hipsters with a bun. The ringing of the doorbell interrupted his morning routine. With a frown did he go to open the door.

“You're Gemini.”

Joss' eyebrows shot up as he regarded Elizabeth Liddell. The tall girl was practically looming over Joss as though she was trying to intimidate him into being honest. He smiled a bit amused.

“How did you figure that out?”, asked Joss, not denying anything as he stepped aside.

Lizzy huffed and walked into Joss' apartment, over into the small living room. “It's the new cuff-links. At first, I thought they're just... Roman numbers nonsense. But the II. It's not a two. It's the Zodiac symbol of Gemini. You are a Gemini, I know that.”

Joss reached down for her cuff-links, twirling them once. “I... didn't expect them to give anything away. I've been working in the shadows. And how... did you even know what to look for?”

Lizzy smiled brightly and pushed her thick curls aside, showing off her earring. Three orange pearls, the largest at the bottom then a middle-sized one and a small one on top. The largest of them had a stylized M enclosed inside. Joss furrowed his brows before his eyes widened.

“Virgo”, whispered Joss stunned. “You're Virgo.”

“The one and only. Well, the current one at least”, grinned Lizzy. “I was thinking, you and me, we could... we should meet up with my team.”

“I'm pretty content doing this solo”, grunted Joss before he stopped. “Wait. Your... team. Babara is Scorpio, isn't she? I'd recognize those boobs anywhere.”

“...Seriously?”, asked Lizzy flatly. “Like. Seriously?”

“Have you seen them?”, asked Joss very seriously, grabbing the air.

Lizzy muttered to herself and covered her face, missing how Joss cracked a grin. Though the next moment, Lizzy sobered up and turned to look at Joss seriously.

“Yesterday... the pub was attacked”, whispered Lizzy and sat down.

“...I... heard about that”, confirmed Joss with furrowed brows. “Angel said they're fine though. Told me Babs moved back in with her and Basty for now. What about... the others?”

“Jessie is crashing on my couch right now. Thank Ricky for being amazing and wonderful”, sighed Lizzy. “And... huh... Actually, Mike offered Jamie and the kids to stay with them.”

“Really?”, asked Joss surprised. “How did that happen?”

“Well, shortly after the attack ended, Matt and Mike came rushing in apparently and... since no one Jamie's close to has that much space... I know Mike's place – or rather Matt's place – is really huge. They have a whole attic that's mostly unused and like as big as my entire apartment. The kids and Jamie have been crashing there since yesterday. Today... we're... we're going to help them put things together to make it more... hospitable for them. You wanna come? Please? Even if you don't wanna join the team. I know you're not... the most social of creatures.”

Joss heaved a sigh. Liz was right; Joss didn't have the biggest circle of friends. Angelique Lamour was his best friend and Angel had kind of dragged Joss into all of this. Into meeting Jessie, Lizzy, Alina and Noxia. He... knew that his very extrovert best friend had been the best thing to happen to him because she pushed him and in the end, he was... glad. He was glad to have Lizzy, Noxia, Alina and Jessie in his life. He furrowed his brows as he nodded slowly.

“I'll come and help. Of course”, sighed Joss.

~*~

Alina and Noxia had been quite surprised to find Lizzy already at Joss' place. Normally, the two would come and get Joss and they'd lastly pick up Lizzy. They were easily distracted with the news about the burned-down pup and the drive was spent talking about that.

“Are you alright, honey?”

Joss frowned as he turned to look at his boss. Sonia Gold. She was... so much more than a friend. When Joss had started out as an assistant with Sonia, he had still exclusively tried to present as a girl, not wanting to rock the boat, not after the way his own parents had reacted. Sonia had been an encouraging and gentle force, despite her strict and serious appearance, she did truly have a heart of gold. Over the years, Joss had become so much more than just a simple assistant, he had helped her make many major decisions about the firm. Sonia trusted his judgment.

“Friends of mine had a... tragedy yesterday”, offered Joss reluctantly.

“What happened?”, asked Sonia, her brows furrowed in concern.

“Jessie, I think you might have seen her before. She and her brother own this pub and... it was attacked yesterday”, sighed Joss before sitting down on Sonia's couch. “They were unharmed, thankfully. But the apartment was destroyed and the pub took quite some damage.”

“Jessie. The Irish spitfire”, mused Sonia. “Oh. The Saint John's Pub? That's such a shame.”

Joss hummed in agreement. Granted, it was only part of what was on his mind right now – but it really was something that concerned him. He worried for Babs and Jessie, and of course also Jamie and the children even though he didn't really know them. He'd never wish homelessness upon anyone, still remembering how it had been for him back in the day.

“You want the day off, sugar?”, asked Sonia as she watched Joss closely. “If you're unfocused and would rather go and help your friends, you know you just have to say the word.”

That put a small smile on Joss' lips. “You're too kind. I wonder how you ever managed to raise this large business. No, I'm fine. They all found a place to stay already and Lizzy roped me into helping with the set-up after work. For now, I'm all yours.”

“Wonderful. Would you mind checking in with your friend Lizzy then? I'd like an update on the Chiron Training campaign. Last I heard there was a major set-back...?”, asked Sonia.

“Yeah. They... revamped the whole of Artemis”, sighed Joss. “You know Noxia. She thrives for perfection. And I do have to admit, the changes they made vastly improved the optics.”

“Good, good. Make sure Apollo isn't entirely revamped though. I'd like to somewhat stay on the schedule”, requested Sonia pointedly. “And then if you could get us lunch from that charming little café? I'll see you in... an hour? I believe I have some meeting I don't want to attend.”

Knocking on the door interrupted them and Sander poked his head in. “You do have a meeting and you are running late, Sonia. Ah. Good morning, Joss.”

Sander smiled at her, his dark eyes shining. Joss' throat felt tight and he felt a tiny bit dumb. Like words came harder to him and coordinating his own body became harder. That was... the usual effect Sander Hancock had on him. The tall handsome man with the kind eyes was his weakness. He had had a crush for Sander ever since he had started working as Sonia's assistant.

“Good... morning, Sander”, replied Joss after a beat.

“What day is today?”, inquired Sander, running his eyes over Joss.

“Today's a he-day”, offered Joss with a small smile.

“Mh”, grunted Sander with a nod. “I'll see you later then.”

Sander left and Joss sighed softly to himself. Sonia raised one eyebrow as she looked at him, making Joss duck his head a little bit. The embarrassing thing about his crush on Sander was the fact that Sander and Sonia were a package-deal. Had always been a package-deal.

They had both grown up in Kansas City, neighbors, best friends since pre-school. High school sweethearts, on and off again for as long as they knew what dating was. Sander had given Sonia the courage and support to open her business. There was no Sonia without Sander, no Sander without Sonia. There was no way there was room between them for Joss and he'd never want to get between them. Sander and Sonia were best friends, had a forty year history with each other. Joss had booked enough vacations for Sonia, and Sander, to go to Krakow, where Sander's extended family was living, because Sonia practically was part of that family.

Joss heaved a small sigh of unrequited love like he was in one of those obnoxious rom-com movies that Angel kept forcing him to watch. With a shake of his head did Joss continue on to check in on the girls, as requested. Sonia was right. This was their biggest project right now and it was a huge one at that – a dozen different posters, corresponding commercials, all for the biggest client they ever had and that was quite saying something. Then again, there were only few businesses in existence that were larger than Chiron Training – Amazon, Google, Disney, from the top of Joss' head, he really couldn't think of any more. What had started out as a small business selling shoes, sports-equipment and prosthesis, it expanded quickly to sports-wear and actually ground-breaking sports-equipment, soon followed by merchandise, energy bars, smoothies, protein supplements and today it was the top provider of prostheses. From what Joss had read online, a prosthesis was how all of this had started out for Matteo di Girasole, after his aunt lost her leg in a hiking accident and had troubles with the prosthesis she had gotten, being severely limited compared to her athletic past.

“Nox? How's it coming along?”, asked Joss as he entered the studio.

Three levels of the building was dedicated of the studios for their photographers and camera-teams for the advertisements. Noxia Black was one of their best photographers, she had the keenest eye of anyone Joss had ever met. Noxia turned around to glare fiercely at him before putting the camera down and making a dismissive gesture toward the models.

“Take five. The boss woman has send her lackey to spy on us”, grunted Noxia.

Joss rolled his eyes fondly as he approached her, seeing the grin she was spotting. Nox hopped onto the table she had put her camera down on and grabbed an energy drink. Joss narrowed his eyes at the various cans that already littered the place.

“It's eight in the morning. How many of those have you had?”, asked Joss sternly.

“Urgh, don't parent me”, grumbled Nox with an eye-roll. “You're only two years older than me. The creative juices have to flow and for that my brain has to be awake.”

“So, how is it going?”, sighed Joss, seeing that he lost this battle.

Nox tilted her head over at the two blondes. Angelique Lamour don up in browns and decent oranges (not bright and unnatural looking, but the tones that complimented the brown), leather-versions of the newest line from Chiron Training. Stylized. Clever take on that idea. She was holding a quiver, having the bow leaning next to her. On her other side stood Anthony Dubois, a very pretty blonde young man with heterochromic blue-brown eyes.

Sonia had discovered him herself. She had been out for lunch with Sander and Joss at Liddell's Sweets, their favorite place for lunch-break, the sweet, little bakery owned by Lizzy's older sister (which was how they had first learned about the establishment). Anthony was their waiter and Sonia, she looked at his smile and the way the sun sparkled in his eyes and she decided on the spot that she wanted him in her next ad, whatever it was. That was just the kind of person Sonia was. She saw someone and she saw their potential and she'd be damned not to work with them on it.

“Those two have insane chemistry with each other”, stated Noxia with a grin. “Not, you know, that kind of chemistry. Wouldn't want that, they're playing siblings after all – and hey, one of the few siblings in Greek mythology who didn't fuck.”

She gestured widely while Joss looked past her at the two blondes. Tony was wearing similar clothes as Angel, though the leather had a nearly golden quality to them, with dark-yellow accessories. On his head perched was a golden crown that looked reminiscent of the sun, while on Angel's head was a silver tiara with a half-moon on it. Artemis and Apollo, the two gods associated with archery, for their shoot showing off the archery-equipment and since Matteo di Girasole himself was a prized archer, he had insisted on having the archers as the faces of the campaign after Sonia had pitched it to him. Others, like Poseidon showing off the swim-wear and Hermes with the running shoes, Demeter with their line of food, were also in the campaign, but these two? They were the perfect faces for it. Joss had to admit, they were gorgeous like this.

“So, yeah. New costumes took a bit until they were done, but our models are being very well-behaved and cooperative”, assured Noxia. “I am pleased with the way things are turning out. This afternoon, we're having dress-rehearsals for Poseidon, then tomorrow is the casting for Hermes.”

“Mh. And the casting director knows that they're not supposed to cast any more white people, right?”, asked Joss carefully, side-eyeing Tony and Angel. “The blue-eyed, blonde twins are the only ones. Mister di Girasole made a very pointed note on wanting his campaign to be diverse – in all aspects. He wants his prostheses featured in them too.”

“Oh, yeah. We actually already cast the perfect one for Terpsichore, muse of dance. Veronica Saylor, she's a... childhood friend of Matt's and a professional ballet dancer”, assured Noxia. “And what I had in mind for Poseidon was tall, dark, handsome black man. Broad shouldered swimmer, dark skin that stands in perfect contrast to the light-blue color-scheme Lizzy has laid out. The shooting, I imagine, at the beach, with a cloud-free summer-sky and the shallow water around him-”

“Okay, okay. You don't need to describe the entire photo-shoot to me”, grinned Joss amused. “I'll take your word for it. It's looking good, but keep the schedule in mind.”

“Always, always”, said Noxia dismissively. “Now, if you'll excuse me, I'll go through the pictures while we take five anyway. Shoo. Go catch up with Angel or something.”

Rolling his eyes, Joss decided to leave Nox be and do as suggested. He could admit that he was working too hard and too much and not spending nearly enough time with his best friend. Angel's entire face brightened as Joss approached her and within moments, Joss found himself pulled into a tight hug by an enthusiastic blond. Tony just quirked an eyebrow at him and nodded.

“Good seeing you”, offered Tony in a thick but pleasant English accent.

“Likewise”, replied Joss with a cord nod of his own.

“We were just talking about what happened to the pub”, elaborated Tony.

“...Don't tell me you're one of Jamie's exes too?”, asked Joss carefully.

“Oh, no. No. Not my type. I like my men tall and strong”, grinned Tony impishly. “No, I just enjoy their drinks. And their food, actually. Also, my best friend has a bit of a crush on the waitress.”

“Tall... is really not an attribute I'd assign to him”, agreed Angel thoughtfully.

“It's a real tragedy though”, mused Tony with a frown. “And they're by far not the only ones, are they? This city's slowly getting torn to pieces. Honestly, my mom called me three times this week alone to ask me to move back to London.”

“I mean, she's not wrong”, offered Angel. “I wouldn't want to leave either, but... I understand where your mother is coming from. My parents are worried too. Los Angeles is the epicenter of an alien invasion. My ex-boyfriend's pub and apartment just got torn down by an alien.”

“...Fair point”, nodded Tony and looked at Joss. “Input?”

“I have to admit, as someone who grew up watching Buffy the Vampire Slayer and complaining about the idiots who kept living in Sunnydale even though everybody knew there were vampires and monsters...”, started Joss with furrowed brows. “Personally, I wouldn't even know where to go. My life and everyone I care about is in Los Angeles, so I'm here to stay.”

“That's fair”, agreed Angel thoughtfully. “And for now, the heroes do have it under control.”

“For the most part”, interjected Tony with a pointed look. “But yeah. Guess so. It's only been like... two months. But if it goes on for too long, or the destruction gets worse...”

“Then I'd consider returning to Paris too”, admitted Angel with a sigh.

Joss drew his eyebrows together at that. They were both right. Los Angeles was getting more dangerous by the day. And the heroes really needed to find a solution for it. Perhaps Lizzy was right and it would be beneficial for them all to work together. Including Joss.

~*~

“You got that pining look on your face again.”

Joss rolled his eyes at Kit. Katherine Renard, the only barista aside from Laureen and Tony working at Liddell's Sweets. The redhead grinned knowingly at Joss while preparing his orders for lunch.

“You always do that when you're giving me the order for the bagel with ham and cheese”, continued Kit, not minding the death-glare she was receiving. “Wonder who ham-and-cheese-bagel is.”

“You're a horrible barista”, stated Joss seriously. “Mind your own business.”

“Aw, but it's half my charm!”, exclaimed Kit with a catty grin.

“Is she teasing you again? I'm so sorry. I should look into better staff.”

Laureen approached them with a tablet filled with fresh bagels. Joss closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Freshly baked goods. That was just... such a good scent.

“It's fine”, sighed Joss. “I know how Kit is. It's... part of the café's charm.”

“See!”, exclaimed Kit and pointed at Joss with both hands. “I'm charming.”

“...That's a stretch”, stated Joss dryly.

“Okay, so, I was just trying to find out for whom the ham-and-cheese-bagel is”, explained Kit.

She looked at Laureen expectantly while Joss heaved a sigh. “Oh. Ham-and-cheese is... Mister Hancock, right? You still having a crush on him?”

There was something akin to pity in Laureen's eyes. That's what Joss got for getting lunch at the shop owned by her friend's older sister. Of course had Lizzy told Laureen all about that. And the thing was, Joss liked Laureen. It was a little odd for Joss, because he was just between the two sisters, age-wise. Lizzy was twenty-eight, Laureen was forty. Joss was awkwardly in the middle there with his thirty-three. Adult life was odd like that.

“If you have any advise for me, Laureen, share it with me”, sighed Joss. “I'm at my wit's end. Sure, Sonia and Sander broke up again last week, but that never lasts long. It's not like I stand a chance.”

“Okay”, nodded Laureen, putting the bagels down and resting her hands on her hips. “You need a distraction. Something light, fun. You need a date.”

“...What”, grunted Joss flatly.

“Oh. No, she's right!”, agreed Kit, nodding wildly. “You absolutely do! There's nothing better to get your mind off of a tragic romance than spending time with someone else, having fun, feeling seen. You need to be seen, Joss. You're fucking gorgeous. Get yourself someone who looks at you.”

Joss flustered a little at that, tucking a loose strand of hair behind his ear. “I don't have the time to go out and meet someone, get to know them and then arrange a date. That's... a whole, time-consuming process. I have so much work to do.”

Laureen narrowed her eyes thoughtfully for a moment. “Wednesday. You come here on Wednesday for lunch, the whole lunch hour. I'll have a date waiting for you.”

“...You're setting me up on a blind-date?”, asked Joss a bit mortified.

“Yes. You just said, you have too much work to do to go out and meet someone. No going out and meeting someone required here. And it costs you no time if it's a lunch-date. Also, perk of lunch-date is the time-limit. Even if the two of you don't hit it off, once the hour is up you gotta go anyway and don't need any excuse to leave early. If you do it hit off, you could set up a real date.”

“Are you telling me anything about them?”, asked Joss warily.

“Oh no. Where is the fun in that?”, asked Laureen with a smirk. “Just be there on time. No simply picking up a lunch-order and leaving again to work through your lunch-break.”

There was no getting out of this. Laureen had set her mind on it and Joss had been foolish enough to fall into it. A date. He couldn't remember the last time – no, wait he could. But... it couldn't have been that long ago, could it? 2011? That was... seven years ago. Oh.

“Okay”, sighed Joss at that realization.

“...That was easier than expected”, noted Laureen suspiciously. “I thought you'd need more convincing. I had arguments prepared in my head, young man.”

Joss smiled a little at that. “I just realized how long it's been since my last actual relationship.”

“How long is long?”, asked Kit interested. “Just, for the record?”

Joss stared her dead in the eye and grabbed the orders. “Have a good day, ladies.”

“That long, huh?”, asked Kit teasingly, smirking at Joss. “Damn.”

~*~

Joss took a deep breath as he climbed into the car with Lizzy. Rick had picked them up to go help with the move. Though he was still a bit unsure what exactly they were going to do today. He had just agreed because of Lizzy's large kitten-eyes. Joss was weak, he knew that.

“What is the plan for today?”, asked Joss once Lizzy and Rick finally stopped kissing.

Honestly, getting going with those two was near impossible. Lizzy smiled as she stole one last kiss from Rick before properly sitting down on her place again.

“Mikey and Matt, the great, generous Samaritans they are, offered to house Jamie and the kids, what with their current place being kinda... torn out”, stated Rick as he started driving. “Thing is, they don't really have the... room. You've never been at theirs, right? They got this huge house – like, really huge, old Victorian style. I love those houses. And they got like three bedrooms. But one, obviously theirs, and another is kinda Marcy's – uh, Marcy is Matt's little sister, total princess that one. So that's not really... it'd be a bit of a tight squeeze for both the kids. They do, however, also have this gigantic attic that's like... empty. It's two large rooms. So, the plan for today is put all the shit up there into one room, pull up a wall between the other, paint the walls, put up some furniture. Make it, you know, homey for the kids.”

“Sounds like a lot of work”, sighed Joss and closed his eyes.

He sighed and leaned back, wanting to rest at least a little bit. He was working way too hard lately, considering the nightshifts of patrolling the streets. It could ease his load if they'd just work as a team, taking shifts and such. Perhaps. Though he really wasn't much of a fan of team-play.

“And we're here”, announced Rick. “Time to wake up, Parker.”

Joss sighed and opened his eyes. And okay, the house was gorgeous. There were people standing outside already, seemingly planning what to do today. Joss braced himself for meeting a lot of people. Rick immediately went in for a hug with who Joss recognized as Mike, having met him a couple of times when doing something with Rick and Lizzy.

“Thanks so much for coming, dude”, sighed Mike relieved. “It's... a lot of work.”

“Of course!”, exclaimed Rick with a laugh. “This is gonna be fun.”

Lizzy grinned and wrapped an arm around Joss' shoulders. “Guys. My friend Joss, he agreed to help us out too. Joss, that's Mike's much better half Matt, Mike's sister Melanie, Matt's best friend Tanya. Damn, that's quite the turn-out. Wait, where's the green bean?”

Lizzy pointed at them one by one and Joss nodded. Aside from them, there were the Saint John siblings and, of course, the two children. Said children were currently sitting on the steps playing with a long-haired black cat. It made Joss smile a little bit.

“The green bean”, started Jessie pointedly. “Has a different, even more important mission.”

“What in the world could be that?”, asked Rick confused. “Shouldn't all of you having actual beds to sleep in be top priority right now? She's crashing with her cousin, right?”

“She is. And right now, she is yelling at our insurance company”, drawled Jamie with a mischievous grin. “Because you know, this shit's been going on for three months but insurance companies still haven't covered alien attacks. So we sicced our angry, short Austrian-girl at them to yell at them in German until they give in and pay for the damages. Seriously, that really has priority. The pub is our only income, I need the insurance money to start rebuilding it.”

Joss smiled bemused at the idea. Babara was a very gentle and kind woman, but making her angry made her vicious. The poor person on the other end of the line, though it might just help move things along. Joss knew their entire income depended on the pub – all three adults living above the pub worked at said pub. They were lucky to have people in their life who could take them in.

“I told you, I'd pay-”, started Matt, sounding mildly distressed.

“No”, grunted Jamie pointedly. “I... accepted your offer to live here for the time being because of the children. I am grateful for it, I really am. But I've been independent all my life. I can't take such a huge gift from you. Babs is going to sort this whole thing out for us and we'll get out of your hair in no time at all, I promise.”

Joss raised one eyebrow as he watched the way Matt looked at Jamie. Oh. He knew that look, had given it Sander a lot of times. How... complicated. He furrowed his brows at that.

“Okay. What's there to do?”, asked Joss impatiently.

“Rick, Mike and Jessie are going to pull up the wall, we already got the material for that this morning. I'm going with Jamie to... try and salvage things at the pub”, started Matt. “Uhm... Andy, Ally, you pick teams? Each pick two of the remaining adults out to go furniture shopping with.”

Andy and Ally furrowed their brows. Andy had the black cat on his arms as he approached them. Joss all the while watched how the others slowly formed groups. Jessie was wearing her tool-belt and looked extremely excited to get some actual work done as she approached Mike and Rick, already giving them instructions and showing who was boss in that group. Lizzy tugged Joss along and approached Andy, while Ally grabbed Melanie and Tanya by the hands.

“Let's go get you an actual bed, kiddo”, offered Lizzy.

Andy furrowed his brows as he looked at her. “I want a race-car bed. Dad said no because it's expensive, but Matt said he's paying and me and Ally should pick everything we want. So, I'm only going with you two if you side with the right authority here.”

“Right authority?”, whispered Joss before chuckling. “I like this kid.”

“We're siding with the one who pays”, declared Lizzy, holding a hand out. “By the way.”

“I don't have that much cash on me”, stated Matt pointedly. “I made arrangements. Called ahead to put everything on my tab, they know to expect you, Lizzy. Perks of being a billionaire.”

“Ye—es!”, exclaimed Andy and started jumping up and down.

“Yeah, kiddo, Ace is straying here though”, interjected Mike, motioning at the cat.

Said cat hissed a little at being shaken by the jumping. Andy apologetically put the cat down and let him run back into the house. Joss heaved a sigh. Going furniture shopping with a child he didn't even know, how had he allowed Lizzy to rope him into this...?

~*~

Andy was jumping from bed to bed, 'testing' them, while Lizzy and Joss sat on one bed and watched him from the distance. He looked like he was having fun, which was honestly already worth something. He couldn't imagine just how traumatic the attack could be for them.

“Now's as good a time as any to talk to me”, grunted Joss pointedly. “Your team.”

“Okay so I'm still new to the whole thing, to be honest. Me and Jessie only found our gems a few weeks ago – yeah, Jessie is Aries and yeah, she told me it's okay to tell you, wouldn't be spilling secrets without permission. Didn't tell them who I suspected to be Gemini either, you know”, started Lizzy. “We've barely started training and all. But it's the four of us – me, Aries, Leo and Scorpio – and the... I'm not even gonna say their official team-name... Sagittarius, Cancer, Taurus and Aquarius. We're eight already, right? With you, we'd be nine. Libra, by the way, bad guy. Gal. There's two... unaccounted for. Pisces and Capricorn, haven't shown up yet.”

Joss nodded slowly. “You're untrained, mh? You really only found them recently.”

“Ye—ep. You've been doing this solo-gig the whole time?”, asked Lizzy with a frown.

“I was out on a stroll during a meteoroid shower when something hit me in the back of my head. Back at home, an owl appeared outta the marble. Gave me a costume, a weapon, powers. Told me to do good with it. I started... walking the streets at night, in the shadows, protecting on a... smaller scale than the big, flashy heroes. I don't... like the big, flashy parts. But I suppose, now that more and more attacks are happening... we need to be big, mh?”

“I know you don't like flashy”, sighed Lizzy and nudged him. “But yeah. Basically.”

“Okay! I want this one!”, called Andy out loudly.

“Wonderful. Get one of the cards from it and let's move on to desks. We need the basics, right? Desk, chair, closet, book-shelf”, called Lizzy back. “Come on up, let's hurry this along.”

~*~

“Oh. Oh, that's a show”, sighed Lizzy softly, fanning herself.

Joss next to her chuckled a little though he had to agree that the show was nice. Mike, Rick and Jessie were all sweaty, Jessie's shirt unbuttoned and tied together below her breasts, Mike not wearing his shirt. The wall was up, they had already started putting together the kids' beds. After shopping, Melanie and Tanya left for the pub to help Jamie and Matt pick through the rubble, while Joss and Lizzy had been put to work at the house.

“You kids doing alright?”, asked Jessie, brushing her sweat-soaked curls out of her face.

“Yeah, this is fun, aunt Jessie”, replied Andy with a broad grin.

Him and Ally were putting together the book-shelf for Ally. There was a box with books and some other stuff from Ally that they had been able to safe standing at the entrance to the room.

“You guys going to be okay with these rooms?”, asked Mike concerned.

“Dude, you have a pool in the basement. There is a giant backyard where I can actually play. And this room is actually bigger than at the pub's”, countered Andy with his eyebrows raised. “This house is really awesome. You can adopt me if you want, you know.”

“Hey!”, chided Jessie with a stern glare.

Andy cracked a grin at that. “You can adopt me and keep Jamie too?”

Mike choked on air, prompting Joss to raise an eyebrow. That boy was really bad at hiding his obvious crush on Jamie St. John. This afternoon had taken quite the enlightening turn.

“We're back. We brought everything that didn't get completely destroyed!”

Jamie's voice came from somewhere downstairs, followed by laughter and chatter from Melanie and Tanya. Ally and Andy exchanged a look before dashing downstairs and checking. They didn't have much, Joss knew they used to live on the streets, all their belongings fitting into a backpack. Joss remembered what that felt like, he also remembered what it had felt like to get his own place and slowly start gathering material stuff again. To have it destroyed and taken away again so shortly after was a set-back. He really hoped enough of the kids' toys survived.

~*~

They were meeting up in costume, at the still sealed-off Saint John's Pub. Joss' costume was black and white, with a dark-gray cloak to hide behind in the shadows. He sat next to Lizzy in her orange get-up, all of them in a circle, Team Lionheart and Unicorn Princess Squad. Gemini sat on his shoulder, preening her black wing. Joss loved Gemini, a lot. She was clever but kind, an owl that was literally split in the middle, right half black, left white. Leo and the others had already rattled down all the information they had gathered and Joss was surprised by how little it was.

“They haven't told you why they're here, huh?”, asked Joss, one eyebrow raised.

“To help. Because of the attack”, stated Aries/Jessie, looking confused.

“No. I mean, why they're on Earth. Why they would come here, over and over again, to save Earth?”, asked Joss with a raised eyebrow. “Didn't you push about that? Because isn't it suspicious? If they have to stay hidden from us, why would they come here over and over again. Bad guys and good guys alike. I mean, what do they gain, what is the motivation? Why care about the backwater planet that they aren't allowed to interact with? Why they have that shady rule about not being allowed to share everything with us? What they're hiding from us?”

“...Okay no we weren't, but now I kind of am”, grunted Virgo/Lizzy suspiciously.

“Humans were never meant to be the dominant race on the planet”, stated Joss seriously and leaned forward. “See how none of the aliens we've encountered, including our companions, are humanoid? They are all... what we would see as animals. We're underdeveloped because we weren't supposed to rule the planet. Dinosaurs were. They were supposed to evolve to the same level of intelligence and capability as Gemini here and the others. But then Earth got attacked and invaded for the first time. The dinosaurs were wiped out when one of the warring forces decided our underdeveloped little planet could be used as a settlement, a place to train their forces, to be closer to their enemy and use to attack. A war-crime was committed on our planet. A genocide. That's why the alliance was formed, that's why there are special teams trained to come here and protect us. Out of guilt for what had been done to our planet before us.”

“...Oh”, whispered someone.

And wasn't that the only reaction. Joss had pushed and pushed for weeks, unraveled the truth. He had never bought it, the silly story of the good, generous aliens coming to protect them out of the goodness of their heart. And why should the bad guys repeatedly come here?

“The thing is, the reason why it's our planet being invaded over and over again, the big bad wants their territory back. Even after all this time. They still think they have a right to this planet because they once claimed it. And that is why they keep coming back here”, stated Joss.

“Serpentarius? But... I thought we established they were like Hades and stuff too, so... not even always bad? I don't get this”, asked Cancer with a confused look on his face.

“Not Serpentarius. They may be the acting head this time around, but... there is a driving force even higher than them”, pointed Joss out and shook his head. “Haven't gotten around to who it is yet, still looking for the right questions to ask. But... right now, Serpentarius is the lieutenant we're looking for, sent by the driving force who had claimed our planet as their territory.”

“That's... very helpful, actually. Thank you”, nodded Taurus honestly.

“So, what are we now?”, asked Aquarius pointedly. “Two teams and a solo gig who trade info?”

“I told you I can't know if I trust you yet”, growled Leo out tensely.

“Oh, you can't trust us. You were the ones we couldn't reach when we needed you!”, snarled Sagittarius, jerking forward some. “Two days ago, when we actually called upon you. You said we could call you and you would come, but you didn't!”

“We were... busy”, growled Leo back, also taking a step forward.

“Busy? We were busy! We were fighting a giant fucking attacker who was hurting those we care about! And you were busy sitting somewhere with your thumb up your-”, screamed Sagittarius.

“Oh, this is just ridiculous and I'm done with it”, declared Scorpio.

Joss huffed to himself, because yeah. This was ridiculous and it was exactly why he was against this whole team-thing. But then Scorpio did the unexpected. She started glowing purple and then her costume disappeared. Her dark-purple hair turned neon-green, waving in the wind.

“Hi, I'm Babara Burkhart and I'm Scorpio”, stated the green-haired woman. “And I'm tired of secrets, I'm tired of two teams tearing themselves apart when we should be one united front.”

Aquarius heaved a sigh and did the same. “Tanya Tarasova. Also tired of the secrets. And yes, this is how I communicated with Scorpio, because Scorpio is my ex-girlfriend.”

The next to turn back to their civilian form were Jessie and Lizzy, followed by Taurus who turned out to be... Melanie Maguire. Joss started to feel like everybody from yesterday was here now. He side-eyed Cancer and Sagittarius and... Yeah. Mike Maguire and Matteo di Girasole.

“So, did you hook your fiance up with one of those gems too?”, asked Joss pointedly at Lizzy.

“What? No. I mean, okay you're right this... this is the exact same line-up like yesterday, but plus Babs... huh”, grunted Lizzy surprised as she took everyone present in.

Leo was the last to turn, but at this point it wasn't really a surprise anymore. Okay, it hadn't been a surprise to Joss. It was, apparently, a surprise for Mike and Matt though, both looking like they had been slapped in the face. Wow. If they were this slow, there was no way those three were going to figure out a relationship within the next decade or so. That was a little sad.

“Does anyone else find that... suspicious though?”, inquired Tanya. “I do understand that they came down in the meteorite shower and they seemingly were headed here. As in, the pub.”

“...I was walking past it”, admitted Joss thoughtfully. “I had thought on Ryuu... my ex... and it kind of drew me here. That's an information I hadn't been able to gain yet. So they specifically headed for this pub? Why? And why were all of you there...?”

“Me? I was on a business dinner with Sonia Gold”, offered Matt.

“I drove him here. The marble must have landed in my pocket while I waited”, said Tanya.

“We live here”, chorused Jessie, Babs and Jamie.

“I was here to annoy Jessie at work”, was Lizzy's reason.

“I... was grading tests. I like to do that here, I find the pub oddly calming, even when it's busy”, explained Melanie. “I went outside when the shower started because it looked beautiful.”

“...I just stopped by quickly to see how Mattie was doing”, admitted Mike embarrassed. “He always looks so cute during business meetings? I just drove by and then went home.”

“So, Capricorn and Pisces must have been at the pub too then”, concluded Joss.

“That would narrow it down if I'd remember who was at the pub on that one night months ago”, snorted Jamie and rolled his eyes. “I'd rather like to know why the pub. What have I, specifically, done to the bad guys that they want to ruin my entire life?”

“Whoever Serpentarius is, they were there too that night. And that's why the Zodiacs landed there”, summarized Melanie thoughtfully. “That was the beacon that drove them here.”

“Great. So we have some... concerning... answers and... more questions”, sighed Matt.

“Dinosaurs”, muttered Mike beneath his breath. “Really?”

“Giant apex predators. Also, look at our companions”, requested Joss. “Did you expect crabs to be the dominant species on Mars...? Giant lizards... not that much of a stretch, considered.”

“Right”, nodded Mike. “Cancer's from Mars. Mars is... inhabited by crabs. Okay, you're right.”

“We humans only got the chance to rise because the dinosaurs were wiped out. Who knows what turns evolution would have taken if things had happened differently”, mused Matt. “Especially considering the... rest of our solar system, you're right there.”

“We need to keep an ear open for Pisces and Capricorn though. That should take priority for now. Who knows if they are on our side, or... not”, stated Jamie seriously, looking tense.

“True, true. Split up and keep our eyes open. Make a... group-chat for the... whole team?”, suggested Mike tentatively, staring at Jamie like a puppy-dog.

“...Yes”, agreed Jamie, looking away from Mike. “Okay.”

“Jamie...”, started Matt slowly, looking embarrassed. “I'm... sorry for screaming at you earlier. I...”

“You weren't screaming at me, you were screaming at Leo”, shrugged Jamie. “...About me...”

There was an awkward stretch of silence and the guys looking different shades of flustered. Joss heaved a sigh. What kind of soap opera had he signed up for there...?

~*~

By the time Wednesday rolled around, Joss felt oddly optimistic about her date. If there was one good thing to come from being dragged into that whole team-business, it was to see cringeworthy pining from the outside. No. No, Joss was not going to do that. She wasn't going to stand at the sidelines with sad eyes, staring after someone who didn't want her. She wore her hair open, white blouse and white pencil-skirt paired with flat shoes. With her, she carried a single white rose for whoever Laureen had set her up with. Laureen was smiling mischievously at her.

“Looking particularly gorgeous today”, teased Laureen. “It's rare to see you with your hair open when you're at work. Trying to charm her, mh?”

“Her?”, echoed Joss and perked up a little bit.

The first bit of information about the mysterious person Laureen had picked. Laureen laughed and led Joss over to a table. And oh. Joss blushed a little. She was beautiful. Very tall – Joss liked them tall – with dark, thick curls falling over her shoulders, soft, gentle eyes, her bow-shaped lips more prominent with pink lipstick. She was wearing scrubs, tugging on them displeased and not having noticed Joss and Laureen just yet. She was really very pretty.

“Sunny, meet Joss. Joss, Sunny”, introduced Laureen. “Your lunch will be ready in five.”

Sunny turned startled and then stared for a moment. “Damn it. You look gorgeous, all dressed up and I'm in my scrubs. I told Laureen that a date during lunch isn't-”

“You're beautiful”, blurted Joss out before blushing. “I mean. If you're this beautiful in scrubs, I don't think I could handle you actually dressed up for a date, so this is a good first date.”

Sunny looked surprised before she started laughing brightly, covering her mouth and ducking her head. “That's... really cute. And embarrassing. Hello, Joss. It's... a pleasure to meet you.”

“Likewise”, nodded Joss with a smile. “So, Sunny... before I assume wrongly, what do you do?”

Joss sat down while Sunny perked up some. “Doctor. That's how I know Laureen – I went to med school with her husband.”

“Doctor Sunny...”, started Joss, drawling it out a little.

“Korrapati”, offered Sunny after a moment. “Well, technically it's Savitri. Savitri Korrapati. Sunny is just a nickname. Started in med school, when no one could – or wanted to bother with – pronouncing my name and when it slipped once that Savitri actually means sun, that... stuck. They went 'oh, can we call you Sunny then? It's way easier to say than your name'... and I've been Sunny ever since. Don't get me wrong, I like the nickname. My friends say it does fit my sunny nature. I'm a happy person, you know. But... it's still frustrating, knowing that the majority of people who call me Sunny don't do it out of familiarity but because they want to avoid even trying to say my name.”

Sunny paused for a moment and looked mortified. “Wow. I really just said all of that, huh? I am so sorry. That was definitely oversharing. On the first date. I literally don't even know your last name yet, but you know half my life story. I'm sorry, I... talk when I'm nervous?”

“No, it's okay, it's really charming”, blurted Joss out and flushed. “It's Parker. My last name. Joss Parker. Got lucky with that. When my parents moved to San Diego from Seoul, they... left everything behind. Gave me a nice, proper English-sounding name, embraced being all American.”

They were interrupted as Laureen brought their food over in person. “And do you visit them often? Your parents, I mean. San Diego isn't far away.”

Joss made a face for a moment before sighing. “Considering you... overshared already, let's even out the playing field a little, mh? No, I'm not close to my parents. I came out to them as trans when I was sixteen and they kicked me out.”

“I'm... very sorry”, whispered Sunny softly, her eyebrows drawn together.

“I'm not”, stated Joss. “Sorry. And trans, that is. I'm... genderfluid. Took me a while to figure that out. Didn't know there was a word for it back when I was a teen. Figured I was trans, until I... figured out what was right for me. So I'm not sorry, because... this is who I am and... if they can't love their only child for who they are? I don't need them.”

Sunny smiled at her in a sad way, the one that conveyed that she knew those were empty words. And of course they were, but a first date was really not the time or place to dive into all of that. But being abandoned by her parents was a pain Joss would never get over. She could also never hate them, despite how much they had hurt her. There would always be that phantom pain where she had cut them out of her life. Clearing her throat, she grabbed her drink and took a slow sip from it.

“So, what kind of doctor are you, Savitri?”, asked Joss.

She felt very satisfied at the bright smile on Savitri's face upon something as simple as actually saying her name. It wasn't comparable, not by a long shot, but Joss knew what it felt like for people to disregard her chosen name or to misgender her because they couldn't be bothered to keep up with what gender she was feeling that day, so Joss would always make the effort for others, even if Savitri's issue was an entirely different one, one based on the inherent racism of this country. Which, probably also a can of worms not to be discussed on the first date. Try light.

“I'm a surgeon”, replied Savitri eagerly. “Trauma surgeon, actually. Most people... immediately put me into 'oh she must be a pediatrician, she's so bright and sweet'. But you should see me at an operating table. I'm good, you know.”

“Beautiful, confident and a doctor...”, muttered Joss softly. “Okay, what's the catch? What's fundamentally wrong with you that you're still single? Serial killer? Do you snore badly?”

That made Savitri sputter a little with laughter. “Not that I'm aware of? I just... I'm a workaholic. I tend to take double-shifts, maybe am more invested in my patients than I should be – checking up on them even after the surgery. I also tend a lot to the doctors in training, even after hours. It's... hard. It's hard enough with the job and being on call to keep a relationship, but I guess I'm just too invested in it and that chases people away. Well, the ones who weren't already chased away by a confident, independent woman who earned more money than them.”

“People can be idiots”, agreed Joss and took a bite from her sandwich.

“You definitely shouldn't be single”, declared Savitri and pointed an accusatory sandwich at Joss. “You're way too charming. What's your dark secret?”

For a moment Joss paused to contemplate. “Since we've played with all cards on the table so far... There's someone I like. Someone I've liked for... a while. I'm hung up on him. Friends suggested that I should find a date and try to move on.”

“Okay”, nodded Savitri slowly and leaned back in her chair. “That's fine. I mean, we all got a past. And if you actually want to move on, then okay. But... if you realize you're not ready to, don't... try to force something because I deserve better than that. Just be honest and upfront.”

“If that's okay by you, then yes”, nodded Joss, a bit surprised.

“I'm a catch, like you said”, shrugged Savitri. “I'll make you forget that guy's name.”

Maybe Joss looked a tiny bit smitten as she watched Savitri nod seriously at that. “So... What about you? Are you... close to your family? Since I shared my sob-story.”

“Oh, I have no sob-story, sorry. My parents came to San Francisco from Mumbai, I visit them regularly. They took my bisexuality better than me, actually? I had a huge freak-out about it, mama just smothered me and told me to calm down”, laughed Savitri. “I have an annoying older sister though. She sometimes visits to nag me. It's very exhausting.”

She made a dismissive gesture before grinning. Joss just nodded along, eating with not even half her focus as she found herself completely transfixed by everything Savitri said. An hour had never passed quicker than during that lunch-break.

Read here on AO3!

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[idkthisisjustforfanfic]

Chapter 1 - Seed and Spark

Harry Styles was kind of a dick. At least, that’s how he acted towards me. You see, growing up down the road from someone should make them care about you--not in some romantic way--just in the sense that our moms started their own book club and our older sisters were inseparable from the age of eight, when my dad’s work had us relocate to the U.K.

You’d think that kind of family bond would make Harry so much as look at me inbetween the moments he was sucking face with my roommate, Quinn, the unequivocal love of his life. But I guess it was kind of silly for me--a girl with a big mouth and an ever bigger ass--to think that he would ever so much as smile in my direction.

When my mother told me that Harry and I would be attending the same university, at first I thought it might be nice to have a friendly face around campus, perhaps even someone to sit with in the dining hall when the tons of new friends I would make were in class or just busy.

I thought that maybe this would be a turning point for us--maybe Harry would see me as more than just the annoying kid he grew up with--maybe he’d even take a liking to me, enough to spend movie nights with me and Quinn or study with me in the library.

But, as usual, I couldn’t have been more wrong.

“You’ve got something on your cheek,” he said with a monotonous delivery, his back against the wall as he sat on Quinn’s bed, directly mirroring my position.

I sat with my computer in my lap and looked up at him, unsure if he was speaking to me. When I realized that Quinn was nowhere to be found, I assumed he was.

I brought my hand up to my cheek, brushing off a crumb from the chips I’d been eating. I rolled my eyes at him, only mildly offended by the fact that that was the first thing he’d said to me all night.

He looked back down to his mobile, his fingers scrolling as he let out a sigh, “you’re welcome.”

I stared at him for a second, wondering how long he’d been staring at me. I’d been lost in a paper that was due in less than an hour, but the distant hum of water from our bathroom let me know that Quinn had disappeared to take a shower.

Quinn Markos was pretty much your image of a girl who’d been popular her whole life--the kind of girl who probably had a date every weekend and never failed to make the rest of us jealous. Harry had only started being nice to me when he realized I was rooming with one of the hottest girls on campus, but as soon as Quinn seemed mildly interested in return, his kindness was rescinded.

I’m not sure if it was the fact that my blatantly American ways seemed to annoy the living daylights out of Harry, or if it was just that 7-year-old me spent most of our school holidays trying to convince him to ride bikes with me, have a lemonade stand, or do other things that he acted like were the epitome of uncool. But for some reason, the more Harry pushed me away our entire lives, the more I wanted him.

I know, I know. How pathetic can one ex-pat be? Fall in love with your neighbor down the street who wants nothing to do with you? Okay, so maybe that’s the reason I figured going to university with Harry would maybe shift the dynamic between us. Perhaps he’d finally see me as more than just Harper Coleman--the girl with curly blonde hair and hips the size of a flat screen TV.

Maybe he’d see me in this new university student light and be flat out shocked at how smart, funny, and entertaining I was. Or maybe he’d continue treating me like a pesky house fly as he spent increasing amounts of time in my room, only addressing me when I was in the way or when I had something on my face.

Quinn appeared from the bathroom--a towel wrapped around her tiny frame as she smiled at Harry. Quinn and I were friends, you could say. She was nice to me and I was nice to her. Occasionally we’d grab some food together or study together, especially if we ended up in the same class. Despite that, Quinn and I couldn’t be more different, which made us good roommates.

Her long brown hair was straight and always tamed, she was short, standing a few good inches below my 5’8 frame. Her hips were normal sized, she had the perfect nose, and more importantly, she was pretty and funny and cool and she always seemed to have a guy chasing her.

That’s why, when that guy was my neighbor and proverbial childhood crush, Harry Styles, I momentarily questioned what I had ever done to the Gods in the sky to deserve this kind of torture.

It wasn’t until the spring of our first year that she really started hanging out with Harry--and now, only a week into our second year, they were clearly going strong.

“I heard there’s a movie in the first floor lounge,” I said casually, hoping that my desperation for social interaction didn’t strike them as weird. To be honest, for someone as outgoing and loud as I was, making friends at Uni hadn’t been the easiest thing.

When I first moved to the U.K. as a six-year-old, people were much more infatuated with my American accent and blonde hair. Now, I was just another eager girl who--much to my father’s displeasure--was majoring in Theatre and Performance Arts and spending too much money on alcohol on the weekends.

If it wasn’t a Friday or Saturday, most of my time was either spent in class or at the coffee shop in the student center where I worked. If I wasn’t in either of those places, I was at rehearsal for this semester’s play.

The novelty that I had once possessed--similar to that of shiny new toy--had long worn off, especially for Harry.

Quinn let out a sigh and turned to me as she combed through her wet hair. “I think Harry and I were going to just stay here and do some homework--but you should go!”

Harry--who’s eyes met mine at Quinn’s mention of his name--simply nodded. “Yeah, you should go.”

I stared at him straight faced, not bothering to mask my displeasure. He would rarely speak to me, unless it was in an attempt to get me out of the room so he could shag my roommate. I gagged just thinking about it.

“Maybe I’ll stay and finish this paper,” I shrugged, my eyes locked on his as Quinn grabbed some clothes from her closet, disappearing back into the bathroom to dress.

“Will you ever give us some time alone?” He hissed at me, his voice much quieter now to keep his girlfriend from hearing our conversation. He dropped his phone on her bed and rested his head against the wall--dramatically. His hair--which was shaggy and fell just about his ears--seemed soft enough to touch.

“You have plenty of alone time, I go out almost every night on the weekend,” I shot back at him, offended by his accusation. I was proud of the fact that I kept busy--even if that meant closing down local pubs with Millie, the one friend I’d made so far.

“Yeah, asshat,” he rolled his eyes. “We’re out on the weekends too. I mean when we’re just hanging out, you know--when we could get busy.”

“You’re disgusting,” I rolled my eyes at him, hopping down from my bed as I shut my laptop. It wasn’t that I wanted to give Harry alone time so he could sleep with someone other than me--it was more so that I didn’t want to sit here and listen to them giggle all night. Sometimes it seemed that they did it just to annoy me.

Harry--seemingly pleased with my sudden movement and the fact that I was gathering my belongings--smiled at Quinn as she returned from the bathroom, fully clothed. “Maybe we can watch a movie here, babe,” he said as she climbed to join him on the bed.

I pulled an old sweatshirt over my head and shot Harry daggers, but he simply smirked at me in return. Quinn cooed in response as she snuggled next to him.

“Catch ya on the flipside,” I saluted them both before closing the door behind me.

**

Millie reached her hand into the popcorn that sat on my lap, munching away as she stared at the screen in front of us. For a welcome back event, the movie night had a decent turnout, if you count the couple in the back making out and the two first years who sat beside Millie and I.

“I just wish he didn’t pick Quinn, of all people,” I whispered at my friend, who’s hair was up in a bun on top of her head. She was also wearing her pajamas--I was glad I wasn’t the only one.

“Of course he picked Quinn,” she whispered back at me, her eyes still on the movie. I hadn’t been paying much attention--instead, I chose to ruminate over the conversation Harry and I had had--eye rolling included. “She’s pretty, she’s popular--” Millie shrugged and brought her eyes to me.

“She’s not that intelligent,” I continued her sentence for her, causing her to let out a snort like laugh, gaining us glares from the other movie watchers.

I constantly told myself that this entire situation would be different if Harry weren’t being dangled in front of my face like a piece of meat. Had he been dating someone who--I don’t know--didn’t sleep in the same room as me every night, this might have been easier to tolerate. Hell, if Harry were dating someone different, I might not even know about it, meaning I could continue my daydream of the two of us in peace.

“She’s fit,” Millie shrugged. “That seems to be all Harry is concerned with.”

I let out a groan and let my shoulders slump. It wasn’t my fault that I liked Harry--in fact, I’d always felt kind of helpless when it came to my raging crush on him. I remember the first time I realized that he gave me butterflies--right after he pushed me off of my bike in his backyard.

Gemma, his older sister, helped me up but then promptly tattled on him--but when his mother asked if I was hurt, I swore I wasn’t. I didn’t want him to get in trouble.

That seemed to be pretty stereotypical for me and Harry--he’d be a jerk and I would just let it slide, hoping that one day, eventually, he’d realize that he loved me too and we were destined to be together.

I just thought that day would have come by now.

Millie--who didn’t have the slightest clue as to why I was pining over someone who treated me like chopped liver--was always quick to come to my defense should she be present when Harry was a jerk.

One time she told Harry that his hair looked stupid (it didn’t) and one time she locked him out of my room when he went to get dinner. It really was the little things that made our friendship so great.

I’d met her first when I started my job at The Counter--I had just about spilled coffee on a fourth year and got myself fired on my first day, but as we got to know each other and she told me about the theatre group on campus, I knew she was a keeper.

I’d been too scared to join by myself--being a first year and all that--but she apparently knew some of the older kids from a class she’d had and she convinced me to join.

“Still got that paper to finish?” She asked me as the movie ended, the other kids standing to leave the lounge as we sat planted on the floor.

“No, I sent it before I came. It wasn’t a whole 8 pages but it’ll have to do.”

She laughed, sprawling out on her back as she let out a sigh. “Sorry Harry was such a wanker before.”

I nodded, staring off at the rolling credits on the screen even though the lights were now on. “Don’t be, I’m used to it.”

“But you shouldn’t have to be,” she corrected me, her blue eyes watching me closely.

I thought for a second, mainly because I didn’t know what to say. I hadn’t ever known a different version of Harry. For as long as I can remember Harry had been the cool one--the one that I was always chasing.

He was the one who didn’t want me, the one who sat as far away from me in the cafeteria as possible--the one who only spent time with me with our mothers arranged a play date. As soon as we were out of primary school, he basically only interacted with me at family parties or neighborhood events. One time he was the only one in the hallway when I dropped all of my books and he just kept walking.

Millie and I parted ways--agreeing to meet for breakfast in the morning before class. I climbed the stairs back up to the fourth floor, grateful that I couldn’t hear Quinn and Harry laughing or whispering as I neared the our room.

I reached for my key in the pocket of my sweatshirt and slid it into the lock, twisting it open.

There was a moment of silence, before I heard “Jesus, Harper!” as I walked in to the sight of Quinn’s bareback as she sat on top of Harry. His voice was annoyed--as it usually was--but I cursed them in my head for not making more noise.

Most people--when they have sex in their shared dorm room--are at least decent enough to be loud in order to not be walked in on.

“Sorry, fuck, sorry!” I yelped, jumping back and slamming the door as quickly as possible. I could hear Quinn chastise Harry for yelling at me, as she often did, but it was no use.

I let myself slide to the ground, slumped against the wall as I tried to wash away the image of Quinn Markos riding the only boy I had ever truly loved.

**

The student center was busier than usual, and the line at The Counter was nearly out the door prior to the afternoon class rush. Luckily for me, I didn’t have an afternoon class on Mondays, which meant I got to spend my afternoon getting yelled at by angry students and forgetting how to properly make a skinny latte.

A little whole milk never hurt anyone.

“That’ll be three ninety-five,” I smiled at the customer in front of me, swiping the plastic card she handed forward. I grabbed her receipt, shot her a smile, and waited for the next customer to look up from his phone.

I would recognize the top of Harry’s head anywhere. I didn’t know--based on how often he avoided even looking at me--if he would recognize me in a green apron and a stupid green hat with The Counter’s logo on the front.

“Hey,” he said quickly, stepping forward to lean on the counter.

“What can I get started for you?”

“Just a large coffee, black,” he said abruptly, his eyes on mine as as I punched a button on the cash register.

I turned my back to him without another word, grabbing a cup from the stack and placing it below the coffee spout. I pressed a button, letting it fill nearly to the brim as I wondered what he was thinking.

“Sorry about last night,” he said suddenly, still watching me closely as I turned around and reached for a lid. I snapped it on, brought the coffee back to the register and handed it to him.

“It’s fine, that’ll be two seventy-five.”

He reached for his wallet and took out a small bill, handing it to me. His fingers grazed mine and I utilized  the calm, cool, and collected face I practiced in the mirror for moments like these.

“Keep the change,” he said with a small smile before walking away.

I stared at his back--momentarily forgetting that there was another customer in front of me waiting to be served. Harry walked with the confidence of a star quarterback--if they had American football in the U.K., that is. He was just as popular as Quinn--I guess that’s why they fit so well together.

“What was that about?” Millie appeared beside me, handing a coffee to a customer and swiping a card on her register.

“I don’t know,” I watched as Harry sat with a group of friends a few booths away, smiling as Quinn cuddled into him.

I’d told Millie about the Worst Moment of My Life, of course, seeing as she was the only person I really spoke to on campus aside from Quinn. She was almost as traumatized as I was, minus the whole ‘one person in this sexual encounter is the person I’m supposed to end up with’ thing.

It had been a while since I experienced kindness from Harry Styles--and not in the usual sense. There were moments where he would say ‘bless you’ when I sneezed or even handed my the salt and pepper in the dining hall when I asked, but that was rather infrequent and never came without a sneer or a grunt.

This--however--the true moment of pure humanity that I just experienced--this was a once in a decade type of thing. The last time I really remember Harry exhibiting any type of emotion rather than utter annoyance towards me was when we were fourteen. Harry had long been ignoring me in school and most of our encounters happened on our walk home (which was often filled with silence) or when we were dragged to family dinners.

I had started dating Fin Devens, a blond-haired boy who’d asked me to dance at a school function and who played on the football team. He and Harry weren’t exactly friends, per se, but they were casual buddies and lunch time pals. Harry--who suddenly took an interest in my dating life--had been telling me for weeks that I shouldn’t date him.

When Fin Devens kissed Maisie Whitley in the park, Harry told him off in front of everyone the next day in school. It only made me love him more.

And it was strange--it wasn’t like Harry was super popular and I was a nobody. I had plenty of friends in school and was voted most talkative in year 6. People always liked me--except for Harry.

“Excuse me?” A voice sounded from in front of me, pulling me out of my primary school daydream and back into the crowded student center. “Can I get a tea?”

“Shit, yeah, sorry,” I smiled apologetically at the woman who was definitely old enough to be a professor and reached for a cup.

If walking in on Harry and Quinn resulted in Harry actually being nice to me for the first time in six years, maybe it wasn’t the Worst Moment of My Life.

**

I was never one to turn down a good time. If there was anything I learned in my first year at Uni, it was that I could handle a decent amount of alcohol before throwing up, and that parties in the senior housing complex were always just that--a good time.

Millie groaned behind me, already complaining about the heels she had strapped to her feet. Friday nights at London Metropolitan University were perhaps my favorite part of the university life. Minus Millie and the theatre group, Friday nights were definitely my favorite.

“Come on, stop complaining,” I said to Millie as I climbed the stairs. The elevator, unfortunately, was out of service, meaning we had to climb the 8 flights to our intended destination. Millie let out another whine but picked up her pace, almost bumping into me when I walked right into Harry’s back at the top of the 8th floor landing.

“Oh, hey!” Quinn smiled at me as she turned around to see us. “I had no idea you guys were coming, we would have waited for you!”

“You guys are hanging out with Preston and Katie?” Millie chirped from behind me, the look of confusion on my face was hopefully not as pronounced as hers.

“Yeah, Katie and I are in a biology class together,” Quinn explained, her hair perfectly curled as it fell around her beautiful face. Harry stood with his hand on the small of her back--when I noticed it, I did my best to not frown.

“You’re taking a biology class?” Millie pressed further, still shocked at Quinn’s connections and apparently, her cognitive abilities.

I placed a hand on her shoulder to quiet her. “That’s great! We were at Millie’s beforehand, I should have texted you to check if you were coming out tonight.”

At this, Harry let out a groan and rolled his eyes. If there was anything Harry disliked more than me, it was the fact that Quinn seemed to actually like me. We might not be the best of friends, but she was always more than willing to invite me along on their excursions.

Sometimes I questioned if she knew about the history between Harry and I--I mean, she knew we grew up together, she knew our families were extremely close--but it often seemed like she had no clue how much Harry really disliked me. He never seemed to keep it a secret--but it also didn’t seem like he had outright told his girlfriend.

Harry nudged Quinn forward, Millie and I followed behind as we rounded the corner in the hallway and walked towards the flat. Outside the door were two guys I’d known from a previous class--both smiled and greeted our group as we walked inside.

The flat--which was dimly lit save for a rotating plastic disco ball that sat on the kitchen table--was filled with students from our school, all of whom seemed decently intoxicated and happy to be back for a new school year filled with partying. Music played through speakers near a TV as I scanned the crowd for familiar faces.

Millie hugged a friend from our theatre group beside me as Harry and Quinn pushed through the crowd--heading straight for the kitchen to get some drinks and greet the others.

“Hey,” a familiar voice sounded from beside me as an arm slung around my shoulder. A quiff of dirty blond hair sat on top of Niall’s smiling face. “Didn’t know if you’d come out tonight.”

I let out a laugh and turned to face him. “Would Harper Coleman miss the first 819 party of the year?”  

Niall brought the beer can he held to his lips, taking a sip before shrugging his shoulders. “I guess not--it’s just that Harry didn’t say you’d be here.”

I raised my eyebrows in an unsurprised fashion. “Harry does his best to ignore my existence,” I reminded him, stepping closer to Niall to allow a small redhead the space to squeeze behind us.

Niall Horan was known on campus as a bit of player, in the most charming way possible. Harry met him during our first year, and though I didn’t know him well, I knew he was also always up for a good time. Harry had reluctantly introduced us in this very flat, eye roll included, and Niall proceeded to get extremely drunk and touch my butt every chance he got that first night.

He was cute--and when we first met, I thought that maybe he’d finally be the person to distract me from Harry. But--again--Harper Coleman was terribly wrong.

“Don’t know how he manages to do that,” Niall smirked, grabbing a beer from the hand of another party goer--offering it to me with a wink. “Here.”

Millie--who completely supported my unrequited love for Harry--also totally supported the fact that Niall seemed like he would marry me if I said ‘I do.’ I took the beer graciously, my eyes wandering the room to see where my friend had wandered off.

I spotted her in the corner of the living room with Preston and Katie--the two who currently lived in flat 819. Flat 819 was always occupied by seniors, and it had the reputation of being the best party spot on campus. Preston and Katie, two seniors who were dating, shared the flat with two other friends--Hollie and Niall.

“How was your summer? First week been alright?” He asked, his eyes scanning my face as if he could tell I was somewhat distracted. It wasn’t that Niall wasn’t cute and funny and nice--in fact, he was all of the above. Most girls would be extremely pleased if Niall Horan were showing them attention at the first 919 party.

This girl, however, had her eyes glued to the hand of her betrothed that slowly slid it’s way up and down Quinn’s back as they whispered to each other in the corner.

“Good, yeah,” I smiled back up at Niall, trying my best to focus on him. He returned my smile, his eyes still searching my face for anything. “Would you excuse me?”

“Oh, yeah, sure,” he nodded, surprised by my sudden shift in attention. I took the beer with me, shirked away from his arm around my shoulder, and pushed through the people in the living room to find Millie.

Katie spoke animatedly beside her, her hands flying in every direction as she laughed. Millie--who was thoroughly enthralled--didn’t notice my presence until I clamped a hand on her shoulder. I apologized to Katie and pulled my friend away, hoping that the bathroom down the hall would grant us the privacy I needed.

“Niall is at it again,” I told her quietly as I flipped on the light switch.

“Yeah? Are ya into it?”

“I don’t know,” I sighed, taking a seat on the side of the bathtub. Millie checked her makeup in the mirror, adjusting the crop top she wore before turning to face me.

“A little one night stand never hurt anyone,” she wiggled her eyebrows in a suggestive manner, laughing when I rolled my eyes at her crudeness. “I’m just saying, you won’t know if you can get over Harry until you try.”

“Who said I’m trying to get over him?” I defended, taking another sip from the beer can as Millie brought her phone up to read a message.

“Okay, well--you know what I mean--swim the sea, realize what else is out there! There’s more to life than a moody kid with poofy hair and a bunch of tattoos.”

I stood from my spot on the edge of the tub, taking another sip and letting the cheap liquid slide down my throat. I didn’t know if Millie was right, but I figured the only way to find out was to keep drinking and to do my best to forget about the moody kid with poofy hair and a bunch of tattoos.

**

“That’s what I’m sayin’ though!” Niall laughed as he leaned against the wall in his bedroom. “This album,” he held up the vinyl in its case and waved it in front of my eyes, “is one of the best pieces of music I’ve ever heard.”

I wasn’t quite sure how I’d wound up sitting on a ratty old armchair in Niall’s dark and dirty bedroom--but I could guess that it had something to do with the drinks I’d consumed and the current MIA status of Millie.

“I don’t know,” I shook my head. “Unless it’s got a 7 minute power ballad, that just can’t be true.”

Niall threw his head back in laughter, placing the vinyl back down on his dresser. He took a step closer to me and smiled. “You, Harper Coleman, have the biggest set of balls I’ve ever seen on a girl,” he nodded. “Critiquing a band like U2? I don’t know who you think you are.”

“That is quite possibly the best compliment I’ve ever received,” I brushed hair behind my shoulder in an exaggerated moment of confidence. Niall, whose blue eyes didn’t light as much of a spark in me as Harry’s green ones, let his gaze flicker from my eyes to my lips, and before I could stand up to let him kiss me, the door to his bedroom opened.

“What the fuck?” a familiar deep voice sounded as Niall stepped back. I side stepped him to find Harry at the door, his brows furrowed as he took in the sight of me and Niall--alone in his room.

“Can I help you?” I shot back at him quickly, silently cursing the fact that he always seemed to pop in at just the wrong moments.

“Quinn wanted me to tell you we were leaving,” he said quickly, looking from me to Niall before slamming the door behind him, not even giving me time to respond.

“Sorry,” I breathed out, looking back up to Niall--who now seemed thoroughly distracted and somewhat disappointed.

“S’good,” he shrugged. “But I’m gonna go get another beer.”

And with that, he left me in his bedroom, alone with the desire for a spark between us that I knew just wasn’t quite there.

[lovelyfictional-imagines]

Coffee. (Twelfth Doctor x Reader)

I may or may not have based this solely off of how I make my coffee in the morning. You can’t prove it.

I wrote this a few days ago, my fingers were just off and I’m quite happy with it. I’ll probably end up editing it hundreds of times before I’m remotely content with it. Part of what inspired me is Move Together by James Bay, despite it not having anything to do with it.

I like the idea of Twelve being soft on the human. I also have another in my drafts describing her flat, and it hits home. Twelve is definitely my top favorite Doctor, I’m sorry about the spam, I hope my Four and Bill fics broke the monotony.

Not much to really say about this one. Another Four will be coming soon, though! As always, I hope you enjoy! Feedback is always welcome!

Until next fic,

- Ashley

Word Count: 1231

The Doctor had actually slept, spent a bit longer than his usual cat nap on his companion’s couch. It was more comfortable than it looked, as he felt properly refreshed. At least more refreshed than before. Looking around the small living room, he watched the sun begin to slip into the room, barely seen.

Normally resolute eyes seemed to melt into something more affectionate upon seeing his companion. (Y/N) was balled into her large, pea green armchair, (S/C) legs draped over the arm, covered entirely by a large quilt. Black fabric was balled up and tucked tightly into her arms. Recalling her saying she was going to bed and then vanishing into her bedroom, he was confused as to why she was there of all places.

“Must’ve been a result of a night terror, or something of the like.” He mumbled beneath his breath, careful not to wake her. Up he went as he observed more light make its way into the room. Pale yellow walls met white countertops, basic in design but optimal in practicality in her rarely used kitchen. Beneath the counters, tucked away in cabinets were barely used utilities that he rummaged through, looking for one particular piece of kitchenware.

“Mr. Coffee? Sounds about right.”

Emerging from the cabinet, miniature black coffee maker in hand, he placed it on the counter with a grimace. He set to work, grabbing filters and coffee grounds and sugar jars. Quickly the pot was filled with water, grounds carefully measured, and the maker was started. At least, to the best of his abilities it was.

The Doctor leaned against the counter, watching London below begin to stir. Cars were being started, cabs were being hailed, and people began to file out of their respective apartment complexes and onto the sidewalk, briefcases in hand. A certain feeling of contentment filled him as he knew he’d never be a part of it. Another feeling of wonder followed for the same reason.

How simple humans could be. Many had quite obvious aspirations, like to build a home or family, or to seek monetary fulfillment. Others he found were more like his dear (Y/N), who wasn’t completely content with the humdrum of day-to-day life. She took pleasure in small domestic activities, such as brewing coffee or sitting in to read, instead of joining boisterous colleagues at a pub. But she found gratification in these undemanding tasks in the TARDIS, off in another time and away from her Earth.

The Doctor took great pride in all of his companions, especially those similar to her. Wanderlust seemingly thrummed in her veins, she always wanted more, to see more, hear more, experience more. Homey habits were cast aside to run alongside him, to never slow down. Until they had to.

Just like now, as he stood in her kitchen preparing a massive cup of coffee for her, is a time they had to stop. Small flats with just enough space for the TARDIS seemed to be ideal for her when she needed time to recuperate from never ending adventures. Not that the Doctor minded much. Much.

A bit of him enjoyed the domesticated portions of their time together, feeling as if the universe has removed her prying eyes for a moment to allow them respite. Seeing his companion—friend, he should call her—resting, comfortable, and most importantly safe, brought him more peace and genuine happiness than saving entire worlds’ worth of people.

The telltale thumping of coffee spewing from the maker had stopped, signaling its end. He poured the steaming liquid into her enormous mug, and began spooning in large lumps of sugar. Scoops of cream followed until the color had gone from one shade to the next, from as black as night to ivory-colored silk. Shaking his head, he released a dramatic sigh.

“I’m getting soft, too soft on this girl, too soft for this... this human..”

Despite his monologue, he carefully took the mug in hand and walked it into the living room. Positions of the hands on the clock indicated it was nearing dawn, and he knew she’d be up soon. She never rested enough, even with his constant “harping”, as she’d lovingly deemed it, for her to sleep more, but he couldn’t change it. Couldn’t speak out too much against her insomniac tendencies, when he slept for an hour or two at a time himself, even if it was all he needed.

Hushed yawns erupted from the lump on the armchair, and the Doctor couldn’t resist the tranquil smile that spread across his features. Small hands extended out, quiet pops indicated her stretching. Making his way round to see her, he held the porcelain cup carefully. Heavy circles still remained beneath her (light/dark) eyes, though alleviated somewhat. A sleepy smile stretched her lips, though.

“Good morning sleeping beauty! Time to get up and going, today’s bad decisions aren’t going to make themselves!” The Doctor knelt down to be level with her own face. A groan tumbled from her mouth, and she twisted to face the back of the chair.

“It’s too early.”

“I am quite aware, but we both know you’re not going back to sleep now.”

“I might.”

“(Y/N).”

“Alright, alright. You enjoy being right at all times, even this early, huh?”

“It’s never too early to be right, now come on.”

With that, she maneuvered into a sitting position, rubbing her eyes as the black fabric she’d previously been clutching fell to the floor. The Doctor replaced it with the cup, and received a grateful smile in return. Remaining in his crouched position, he watched her throat as she drank. Hypnotizing, almost, the way it rose and fell with each gulp.

“Ready to go? I’ve already got our next journey planned, we can pop right over into the—“

“Doctor! Wait! What’s the rush? Late for the early bird special? Bingo already started?”

The Doctor fixed her with an intense glare, causing her to snort and put her glass down onto the end table in front of her.

“I’m teasing, I’m teasing! Don’t get your unders in a twist. I’m just saying, I’ve some laundry to do, I need a bit of time. Then we can go. Okay?”

Hmmphing in mock contempt, he crossed his arms. “Fine. But don’t take too long.”

Victorious again, (Y/N) broke into a grin. “Thank you, Doctor. I won’t be long, I swear.” Leaning in, she pressed a kiss to his cheek. “And thank you for the coffee, you’ve somehow made it better than I would have.” Another kiss pressed to his other cheek, leaving a dumbfound Time Lord crouching in front of her chair as she hopped up, moving off in direction of her room, caffeinated beverage in hand.

As he recovered from the bewildering effect that her lips had caused, he allowed his fingers to ghost over his cheek. Before standing the Doctor realized she’d left the black garment on the floor at his feet. Taking it in hand, he realized what it was. He smiled, an actual toothy grin, as he recognized his coat he’d worn there.

In an instant he resumed his usual dissatisfied expression. Smoothing out the wrinkles in his outer layer, he slipped it on over his hoodie. “Too soft indeed, very much so.”

But still he simpered to himself, hoping to be thanked in such a manner again very soon.

[sometimesalwaysmusic]

PARAGON CAUSE

Paragon Cause is a songwriting, production and musical duo based in Ottawa. Members Marnie (originally from Southern Ontario) and Kirwan (hailing from Cape Breton) bring their love of Hip-hop, jazz piano, 80's synthesizers and 50's guitars to create music that is mysterious yet familiar. We caught up and discussed influences, the differences between Ottawa and their hometowns, and some of their favourite live shows.

VITALS

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/ParagonCause/

Web: https://www.paragoncause.com/

Twitter: https://twitter.com/ParagonCause

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/paragoncauseadvanced/

Latest Release:   Escape (Album, May 2018)

Upcoming shows: Sat, August 4 - Paragon Cause, Lethargicon. The Seahorse, Halifax NS Sat, August 11 - Paragon Cause and more TBD, Pressed, Ottawa ON Sat, August 18 -  Paragon Cause, O'Connels Pub, Ottawa ON  

SA: How did Paragon Cause come together? Kirwan: Well, I wish we had some story about meeting after a performance in a dark lounge after Marnie was singing jazz, but that would be a lie. I stopped playing music for a while after playing with some bands back in Halifax. I decided to start recording and writing again and spent a year or two making weird techno and house music, but I found it a bit unsatisfying. Marnie completed a music degree was trying to decide how to start playing live again. So, both of us put profiles up on a website called Bandmix, basically the on-line dating version of finding band members.

 Both of us met with other people, played with others but it never worked. I know for me, my music was always a bit too esoteric for most people. I would sometimes show up for a practice and just sit there and not play, the music was too…normal. Finally, I reached out to Marnie after seeing a video of her singing and playing piano. There was something in her voice that struck me. Although, we are lucky we ended up playing together. It’s a bit odd for some random online person asking you to come over to a stranger’s house to play tunes in their basement! She came over, we jammed on the Beatles Norwegian Wood. I knew within 1 minute, this was it. It was insane how we connected. The last time I was even close to that was playing with Rose Cousins and Steve Gates back in Halifax, but this was on another level. Right then and there, we started writing and learning songs. It was special.

SA: What bands or musicians would you cite as the biggest influences on your sound? Marnie: For me, it would be classical music, Mamma’s and the Papa’s and definitely the Beatles. Where I grew up, music like that was hard to find. Remind me in our next interview, and I’ll tell you more (laughs).  Kirwan: It’s a bit complicated I suppose, I basically want to be as cool as Tribe Called Quest or the Digible Planets, but I know that’s impossible. So, I draw from a lot of my favorite bands and musicians I think are special. The Cure, The Raveonettes, Janes Addition, The Suuns, Peter Green’s Fleewood Mac, Howling Wolf and of course Portishead. I think deep down, I want to do what Portishead did, create something different, unique. But in the end, we really just try to do what we love. We know ‘our’ music and sound when we play it.

SA: Thus far in your career, what has been your biggest success? Kirwan: To be honest, completing an album. When we first met, we said, “let’s make an album and print it on vinyl and give it to our friends and family.” That’s what we are doing. As for Marnie, I think one of her’s would be winning 1st in the Quebec School Choir as the choir director. Although, when we released the song Sunny, it was played during the traffic report at 4pm on CBC Ottawa All in a Day. I’m not sure you can get much bigger than that.

SA: On the other hand, what is the biggest challenge you have faced, and how have you dealt with it? PC: Hands down,  a tie between navigating the new method of music distribution in an online and social media ruled age as well as learning to let go of a song and move on. With respect to navigating the system, trying to get your music heard is hard. No one ever writes you back when you write them. However, we are lucky, we both come from a place in which we can invest the time, learn and figure out how to distribute music without the help of a label. We both have formal music training and thus writing music comes pretty easy, but that leads us to the next issue, we are SUPER picky about things. We probably write about 10 songs a week, but maybe pick 1 or 2 a month we like. For example, the song Next Time and Fear took over a year to finish. I was never happy with them, we have about 20 versions for each song, some with completely different arrangements, live drums, synths, etc, etc.  So in the end, navigating the system and letting go and moving on are tied.

SA: How do you guys approach the song-writing process? Kirwan: With some good craft beer, guitar pedals and plans to order pizza with pineapple. I think we have three ways. Marnie usually will write a song on piano, a complete arrangement from start to finish. She has all the melody, harmony everything done and usually recorded with a running commentary recorded on her phone.

For me, I start with a riff or a beat and a rhythm. Then, we usually take it to the other person. For me, when she shows up with her song, I say, ‘ok let’s record it, regardless what you think of it.” She always thinks her music is not good enough, but I’m usually blown away by it. Then, we usually record the piano or synth and vocals in one take together.

Both Fear and Next Time were recorded in one take, vocals and piano. Then, I usually spend some time thinking about it, the feel, the emotion and the melody. She and I spend about 30 hours with the song, playing along, writing guitar parts and drum beats. I’ll often alter it a bit by changing the mode of the song, which is akin to changing key, but different. Next Time was a very happy sounding song at first, but by adding the bassline, it gave it a very dark feel. To us, that is what is amazing about music, the key didn’t change but the method and way you play the chords did and that completely changed the song.

When I bring a song to her, I play it and she kind of goes into a trance. She will sing melodies and then quickly write words. Often, I can’t even snap her out of it! She just goes into another world and writes the entire melody…Consequence and Away from Me were like that. Away from Me was originally called “Acoustic Song” as I wrote it all on an acoustic Guitar, start to finish and she wrote the lyrics and melody and made it something special.

After that, I usually spend weeks producing, mixing and editing. We like to write, record, then play live. It gives us an idea what works and what doesn’t. I then take the final version to her for it to get constructively criticized. In the end, we work extremely well together. Did I mention we also enjoy craft beer during our sessions? We also have a great desk to work at.

Finally, we jam. We can play songs and improvise for hours. There have been times, were we start playing and stop an hour later and just look at each other, speechless. We are off in another world. Although once, we recorded a 20 minute song that was our best ever. It was recorded on webcam, but I forgot to turn the microphone on, so we only have a video, no sound and we can’t remember the song.

SA: Both of you are transplants to the National Capital region. What are your thoughts on the Ottawa music scene? Kirwan: Well, for me it’s very different than Halifax. I think I can speak for both of us when I say, we are still getting used to it. The people we met from bands like The Pale Light, Sol the Violinist and superstar guitarist Lee Jessom have been extremely helpful and friendly. I think in Ottawa however, it’s harder to get involved. Back in Halifax, everyone talked, everyone knew each other all the bands would be out supporting other bands. We are still trying to find that here.

We still play at open mics around the city. We love doing that. We are both strong believers in supporting song writers, musicians and performers regardless of their skill level. We have no shame in showing up at Irene’s or O’Connels Open Mic and play some Fleetwood Mac, Nancy Sinatra, Amy Winehouse and some Raveonettes. We even play some Portishead. The open mic scene is super friendly in Ottawa. But, the music scene so far has been challenging. We should have played more metal, the metal and punk scene seems to be amazing here. Halifax was very folk oriented and alt/indie style so it was a bit easier to get involved. But who knows, perhaps we just need to write better songs.

SA: If you guys could choose a 'dream tour' with currently active artists, who would you be sharing the stage with night after night? Kirwan: The Raveonettes, The Suuns and Geoff Barrow’s new band Beak>. Although, Portishead and The Cure would be dreams come true. Marnie: Tough question, but the answer would be to sing in Les Miserables.

SA: If you could narrow it down to one album that has been influential on your life, or even your musical path, which would it be and why? Kirwan: Super hard, so many, but I have to say, The Low End Theory by Tribe Called Quest. When that album was released, It made me appreciate writing, jazz, hip-hop, rhythm and why the feel of music is something that sets good music apart from bad music. That album with songs like Vibes and Stuff just puts you in a place, from the first noises you hear. It changed my life as a kid and made me obsessed with hip-hop. Number 2 is a tie between Pornography by the Cure and Ritual de lo Habitual by Jane’s Addiction. Marnie: Les Miserables.

SA: Have you been to any concerts recently, in Ottawa or elsewhere, that have been particular inspiring? Kirwan: For sure, a few years ago I saw The Cure life in a small theatre in New York. It was called Reflections Tour. They played their first three Albums, start to finish then 2 more sets up rare and old tunes with the original line up, including Lol Tolhurst. It was mind blowing. Robert Smith is a God, people need to realize how good he is. I also saw Guru (of Gangstarr fame) and I saw one of James Browns last concerts. Polica and The Suuns are great live as well. Oh, I saw Portishead and The Breeders, during their last tours, amazing and beyond inspiring. Marnie: Seeing LCD Soundsystem last year at Bluesfest was insane. My god they are good. 

SA: What can we expect from Paragon Cause moving forwards in 2018? Our best wishes for your continued success! Kirwan: Well, you will see some surprises I hope. We are writing and recording our next album. We also want to do more soundtracks for podcasts and film. We currently do some of the music for a big Canadian Podcast called The Night Time Podcast. We love just playing ambient stuff and making sounds. We also want a cello player and perhaps some sort of percussionist. Also, a French Horn would be nice on our next album.

[galactichen]

different worlds || baekhyun

[1] [2] [3] [4]

i hope you guys are enjoying this au as much as i am! it starts getting serious in this part (mostly bc of angsty baek...)

5614 words; soulmate!au; baekhyun/reader scenario; general, slight angst

“What do we do now?”

“First things first: we do not tell your father about your soulmate being a peasant in the village you're forbidden to go to. That will just stir up trouble we don't want to deal with.”

You look down at your hands and twiddle your thumbs. You’re seated at the desk of your study with Luhan and Yifan standing on either side of the room. Luhan is turned toward the window, looking out with a blank look on his face. Yifan, on the other hand, is slumped against the wall with an old book of yours in his hands, although you know fully well that he isn’t reading at all.

Who could read in a situation like this?

“We could always just pretend that this,”ーYifan gestures in front of himself to signify that he means the situationー“never happened. We can simply go about our daily lives and forget about everything that’s happened. We’ll figure something out about the whole soulmate situation, but it’s probably too late to get your ring back by now.”

“And you’re suggesting that we just leave him with my family heirloom?” You turn towards Yifan in disbelief. Is he really suggesting that you just forget about your family heirloom that is currently in the hands of a village-born thief? Not to mention it’s your soulmate.

What a strange twist of events.

Yifan looks at his older brother sheepishly, who has been standing at the window rather silently ever since you allowed the two inside your study. You watch as Luhan reaches up and tenderly runs his fingers over the fabric covering his neck where his mark is hidden from view.

“Yifan is right,” Luhan finally says after a long moment, and you can't believe your ears. “We should forget about it. He is long gone anyway, and for all we know he has certainly sold off your heirloom to one of the traveling merchants by now. It’ll be far too tedious trying to locate such a small item, not to mention the suspicion it will arise from your father. I apologize, but it’s for the best that we put it all behind us and move on.”

Alright. Let’s just ignore the fact that the ring I just lost is a family heirloom that has been passed down from generation to generation, you think rather angrily to yourself. I’ll be questioned about its whereabouts and I’ll have to just lie and say that I’ve lost it because I’m a careless little girl.

“Fine.” You fold your arms across your chest. “Say I agree. What will we do about the soulmate part? We can’t exactly lie out of that, can we?”

“Agreed. Lying about soulmates will bring even more complications. However, that would mean that that village boy will have the future of the entire kingdom in his own two little hands,” Luhan murmurs, appearing to be rather deep in his thoughts. His arm finally lowers until it’s loosely hanging by his side. “Even if we trained him, even if you accompanied his side everywhere he went, that boy was not born to rule.”

You huff. So my future as a queen has practically been ruined by that village boy. My ‘soulmate’.

Then there’s a sudden knock on your door.

“Come in,” you call out. Unconsciously, you straighten your back and fold your hands neatly in your lap. Yifan stands to his full height and slides the book back onto the shelf beside him. Luhan doesn’t move from his spot at the window.

The door opens to reveal a servant who politely bows before saying, “An urgent letter has arrived for His Highness Luhan and His Highness Yifan.”

Yifan approaches the servant first, reaching for the silk envelope in the servant’s outstretched hands. You watch from the corner of your eye as Luhan’s attention is finally diverted from the window, demonstrated by the way he turns around with a raised brow.

“Thank you.” Yifan proceeds to scan the envelope before gently prying it open as the servant makes a brief exit after bowing once more. Luhan advances towards his brother with slow footsteps, the heel of his boots hitting the tiles of the floor with a soft thud each time.

The room falls into silence as the brothers read the letter. You busy yourself with the few scraps of parchment scattered across your desk, piling them neatly in the corner.

“It appears there’s been an urgent matter in our kingdom that requires our presence,” Luhan speaks a lot louder than needed to just be speaking to Yifan, so you peek over your shoulder in curiosity. Luhan stares back at you, an apologetic look marring his soft features. “We’ll have to depart at once.”

“At once?” You echo.

Luhan confirms your words with a firm nod.

Yifan folds the letter and tucks it into the inner pocket of his jacket. “It would have been nice to spend another day or two here. It was nice being away from our responsibilities to spend time with an old friend.”

“Ah, but not all goes according to plan, does it?” Luhan chuckles quietly. “I promise we’ll figure something out for you, alright?”

You could only nod. What am I going to do on my own?

Am I just going to put it all in the past, like they said?

Your brows twitch. No. I won’t.

Luhan and Yifan make their farewells brief with a quick pat on the back and an exchange of words you don’t bother to listen to. You’re far too deep in your thoughts to listen to what they have to say. Then they’re out of your study in a flash, Yifan’s legs a blur and Luhan practically jogging to keep up with his younger brother’s long legs.

It’s time I take matters into my own hands.

Dressed in not one of the elegant gowns that you wear daily but an old nightgown instead, you find yourself atop a horse from the stables and cloaked in a long, midnight black robe, the hood pulled over your head. The horse trots along the road rather quickly, though not so much that it’s galloping.

After Luhan and Yifan departed the palace towards their own Kingdom, the Highlands, to attend to an urgent matter, you spent several days looking for a window in your schedule to head out into the village. And at long last, you found it appearing to be after dinner one dayーtoday. You quickly told the nearest servant you were headed for Castletown, and you were out before the servant could even bow.

It’s not long before you’re out of castle grounds and onto the road to Castletown. While the road is rather winding with several sharp turns, you arrive safely nonetheless.

Castletown is as busy as ever, bustling with people and energy alike. The amount of happiness that resonates from Castletown residents makes you feel mournful for those in the outer village that you visited two times now. Not for him, though. That poor excuse of a soulmate.

Then you find yourself trotting further and further away from the familiarity that is Castletown and closer to the isolation that is the village on the outskirts. Or are there more of them?

You shake that thought out of your head as you hop off your stead, tugging him over to a simple tree hidden amongst many more. You’re here to get your ring back, not to ponder about what other villages your father could be potentially ignoring. Tying your horse to the tree, you leave a few carrots on the ground before departing with a little pat on his head.

Entering the village on foot rather than by carriage was an entirely different experience. One that you never anticipated.

Instead of villagers stopping and staring at you in awe, they merely brush past you without a second glance. They keep their gaze straight ahead with nothing but their task at hand to focus on.

They ignore you.

And you’re not sure how to feel about it.

All your life, the attention was always on you. You; the princess, the heir to the throne, soon to be the ruler of the kingdom. Foreigners who arrived to the palace often only came to seek your hand.

Having everyone around you practically ignore you…

You didn't want to think about the twisting feeling in your stomach every time someone accidentally bumped into you and didn't bother to apologize with a deep bow.

Focus, you tell yourself. You straighten your back and stride forward.

But then you stop.

Where are you supposed to find him?

It then occurs to you that you barely know your way around this place. You don't even know how big this place is. Is it small? Big? Tiny? Enormous? Will you get lost if you wander too far?

You regret taking carriages for granted.

So you decide to simply wander. Wander about what appears to be the main square of the village, where market stalls upon market stalls surround a certain open area of the village. Even at this time of day, the markets are still bustling with people, though with much less energy as compared to Castletown. Whereas in Castletown, the people are happily purchasing whatever they could and whatever they wanted, here in the village the people hunch their backs and clutch what they have to their chests. Their eyes dart from one stall to the next, scanning for what they can possibly afford.

It breaks your heart.

You stop paying attention to where your feet take you and instead indulge in your surroundings with your own eyes. Not through a window, but with your eyes.

To see what you haven't seen before. To see what hides beneath the veil that is the village’s misery.

Passing what appears to be a tailor, you spot a little girl through the window, no more than seven years old, holding a needle in one hand and a long piece of fabric in the other. An older woman stands above her, watching as she sews something into the fabric. When the girl finishes rather quickly, a genuine smile spreads across her face and she appears to compliment the young girl’s handiwork.

Then comes the pub. There are no windows for you to peek through, but bright lights and bursts of laughter from inside seep outside through the cracks in the wooden door. Voices are drunken and loud, but you can tell they're enjoying themselves inside. The door then suddenly swings open, causing you to jump, and out come two young men in their thirties. They gush about their time catching up and arrange another future meeting before bidding farewell, heading back home to their awaiting families.

“Would you like to try some cake, sweetie?”

You turn towards the unknown voice, only to face a woman standing on the other side of a cobblestone counter of a bakery. There are crinkles on the outer ends of her eyes and her lips wear thin, and you're smitten by the way she beckons you over with a smile on her face despite your lack of response.

“Some leftover cake from this afternoon,” she says, pulling up a plate. Her voice carries the familiar village accent, though it's not as heavy as the farmers you've heard during your past visits. “Made with vanilla beans I purchased from the merchants not too long ago.”

You struggle not to make a face when she uses her hands to pick up a slice to put on your plate.

“Can you get some for me too, Auntie?”

Your head snaps to your left as a figure plops down on the stool a couple seats over from you. The woman slides your plate in front of you.

“Ah, Baekhyun!” The woman’s eyes crinkle upwards into crescents. “How nice of you to stop by! I've been saving this cake just for you.”

Your jaw slackens when the light appears to wash over the figure.

It's him.

Baekhyun.

No doubt about it.

He's dressed the same as the last time you saw him; a pair of old pants as well as a patched-up shirt. Bits of dirt litter his bronzed skin and his hair shines with grease from lack of wash.

But your eyes are elsewhere. You're busy scanning for something...something off. Something that shouldn't be there, that you're hoping actually isn't.

Your heart drops to your stomach when you spot it.

The drawing of a dove was on his left inner wrist. The one identical to yours.

Your fear has been confirmed.

You silently turn back to your cake as the woman and Baekhyun continue chatting. You're suddenly grateful for the hood that hides your face from the world and from the villagers who don't recognize you.

Because now that you've found him, you don't know what to do.

Back with Luhan and Kris, it was easy. Call him out and demand the ring. If he refuses, use physical force until he complies.

But now?

Now that you've seen what the village is really like with your own eyes...how bad is Baekhyun and his familyーgiven that he has oneーsuffering? What if he needs the ring for what it's worth, more than you in order to bring his family comfort and a sense of happiness?

What if?

Questions flood your head one by one. You're suddenly second-guessing your decision to come here. Perhaps it's the sudden loss of confidence without Luhan and Yifan by your side that you feel this way. Perhaps it's your naive heart taking control again.

Or is this pity that you feel? Do you feel sorry for Baekhyun, even though you've only had a small glimpse into his life?

“Oh, sweetie.” The woman chuckles heartily. “You haven't touched your cake at all! Is everything alright?”

It doesn't occur to you that she's actually speaking to you and not Baekhyun until she leans further into your personal space.

Startled, you jump back. “Y-Yes, everything is alright.”

“Are you sure?” She leans away when she senses your discomfort. “I might be a stranger, but I'm here if you need to talk to someone.”

How can I talk when the boy I'm thinking about is right beside me?

“I'm alright,” you insist. “I just have a lot on my mind.”

“Must be about the harvest, eh?” The woman picks up a stack of dirty plates from the floor and places it behind the counter. Picking up one plate, she begins to clean it in a bucket of water. “Farmers weren't able to harvest much this season. There's barely enough for the whole village to survive off of during the coming winter.”

“Y-Yeah.” You’re hesitant to touch the cake with your fingers, but having not been provided with utensils you’re left with no choice. Breaking off a piece, you pop it into your mouth. This is actually...very delicious, you think to yourself. It reminds you of the pastries you are often served back home. You're absolutely blown away by the burst of flavor in your mouthーsomething you were honestly not expecting, especially from a place like this.

Never judge a book by its cover.

“It's a pity, really,” the woman continues. “That poor excuse of a King is just sittin’ upon his throne all regal and powerful, ignoring the dying villages around him. It ain't our fault now, is it? The weather be wrecking all the crops that we live off of and yet he still turns a blind eye. A man with power like his should be helpin’ his peopleーnot leaving them out in the dust to fend for themselves.”

The cake suddenly turns to sandpaper in your mouth at the mention of your father and by the way the woman speaks of him.

“Why should he care about us?” Baekhyun mumbles. You turn your head slightly so he's in your line of view. You nibble at your cake, watching as he munches away on his own slice. “We’re nothing but dirt on his polished leather boots. Just a burden he’ll get rid of sooner or later.”

“Ah, but Baekhyun,” the woman cuts in. “We’re his people. We are more than just dirt on his shoe.”

“Doesn't seem that way,” he snaps. “The only ‘people’ he seems to care about are the Castletown residents.”

“Well aren't you a little moody tonight? What's goin’ on with you?” The woman scoffs as she continues scrubbing plate after plate. “Anyone in their right mind around here will definitely agree with you, boy. But don’t forget: a king isn't a king unless he has subjects. Without his loyal subjects, he ain't nothing but a man on a throne. And those loyal subjects just happen to be those Castletown residents you speak of.”

“If he's gonna call himself a king, he better clean up his act and start caring for us because whether he likes it or not, we’re his people too. Who knows when we'll stop being loyal to a bastard like him.” Baekhyun stands up faster than a jack-in-a-box and his stool topples over from the force. As he digs his hands into his pockets, you think he's searching for spare change to pay the woman for his meal, but he simply turns and begins to walk away. “Who knows? Maybe we’ve already stopped being loyal to him.”

Baekhyun’s words not only leave you speechless but also conflicted. He does not have the right to be calling your father a bastard when your father is the one managing the kingdom as a whole, including the poor areas. Your father is the one securing trade routes in and out of the kingdom, including the merchants the village seems to rely on, for their lack of produce isn't doing the village much good.

However, your father is also at fault for ignoring the poor areas. You know yourself how he is, only paying attention to Castletown and heeding to only their needs.

But what about the needs of the poor? They have voices to be listened to, too.

Voices that are being drowned out by the cries of the rich.

“That boy,” the woman sighs. You turn your attention back to her, finishing the last of your cake in a hurry. “A sad one, he is. Living off of nothing but scraps ever since he was a little boy. He often steals to help provide for his adopted brothers and his mother. I’ve tried to offer him a job here, but he refused.”

You look over your shoulder, watching as Baekhyun’s figure grows smaller and smaller. I have to catch up.

“Thank you for the meal.” You slip your hand into the pocket of your nightgown, pulling out several silver coins. Hastily dropping them atop the counter as you stand up, you try to ignore the woman’s face of shock as best you can.

“I-It’s only worth a few copper-”

“Keep the change.” You smile. “It was delicious.”

And you're scurrying away before you could change your mind and before she could call you back.

“Wait up!” You shout.

He doesn't respond.

“I said, wait up!” You yell again.

“Leave me alone. I don't want to talk to anyone.” He stops in his tracks and spins around, staring dead into your eyes. There's recognition in his eyes when they land in you. “Especially you.”

“W-Wait,” you say, but he's turned around again. “You know who I am?”

“Of course.” Baekhyun laughs a little although there's no humour in it. “I'd recognize that snobby little voice of yours anywhere. Came to get back your ring? Where're your bodyguards?”

Snobby little voice. The way he says it in a bit of a nasally voice makes you want to punch him in the face, had it not be considered unladylike. “Yes, and not here. I came by myself.”

“A princess like you, coming out by yourself to this miserable little village just to see me? Well, I am honoured.” Baekhyun’s voice bleeds sarcasm. “But unfortunately, your effort to come here has been wasted. I traded off your little ring ages ago to a tiny merchant the size of a barrel. Said it was worth thousands and gave me all he had to offer. You’d be surprised to know how much a little gold ring is worth until you’re living on the streets with nothing but rags.”

I knew it, you think to yourself. But that's not all I've come for.

“Baekhyun-”

“Oh lord, she knows my name. Are you going to babble to your father and cry to him about how a peasant on the streets sold off your little ring for food so he can actually survive for longer than a week?”

“-do you know what soulmates are?”

He stops. “Soulmates?” He pauses as if thinking. “Nope, not a clue. Enlighten me, oh High and Mighty one.”

“They're two people destined to be together,” you explain. Now, you're not sure why you decided to be so straightforward, but it's too late to undo what already has been done. “Made for each other. Like two sides of a coin. Two halves of one whole.”

“And why should I care?” Baekhyun finally turns around to face you. The two of you find yourselves in a dark alley between two rather large buildings, the bustle left behind for a quieter atmosphere. “See, while all you rich people are out here talking about destiny and halves and whatever, I'm actually concerned about what I'm going to have for dinner. If I'll even have dinner. If I'll even have dinner for the next few days. If I should have set portions so I will have dinner for the next week.”

Because this concerns your future. My future. “Because everyone has a soulmate, Baekhyun. You, me, and everyone around us.”

“Well, ya see, we’re busy trying to-”

“Baekhyun, look at your wrist.”

The way he immediately looks at his left wrist makes you believe that he's already seen the mark before, but thought nothing of it. Then, he looks at you. “And?”

You approach him slowly and wordlessly. He tenses up as you come closer, but you ignore his posture as you hold up your own wrist so he can see your own mark.

The mark that you share.

“They're...the same,” he breathes.

“Do you know what that means?”

You watch as his eyes flicker back and forth from your wrist to his, the gears in his head churning as he struggles to figure out the puzzle.

“No way.” Baekhyun drops his wrist in realization. “No. Way.”

You don't say anything as he shakes his head multiple times, backing away slowly. “There is no way I am destined to be with you. A princess. No way.” He sounds absolutely disgusted.

“But we are,” is all you can say. You swallow the words you really want to say. Being destined to you has practically ruined my future as a successful queen. You might feel sorry for him, but that doesn't mean you're not feeling resentful about your near-ruined future.

“How can I,” Baekhyun gestures to himself, “be destined to you? That doesn't make any sense! Is this your way of telling me that I'm supposed to be the future king?”

“Listen, if we can just talk this out-”

“Talk this out?” Baekhyun practically shrieks. His voice seems to bounce off the walls, yet no one bats an eye. “Woman, I got kicked out of my house for stealing your goddamn ring, and you come to tell me that I'm destined to be with you? Do you know how much trouble you've caused me these past few days? I've been living on the streets because of you. You and your arrogant ways.”

That's when you snap.

“And I'm supposed to be sorry for that? What about my future as the future queen? The future ruler of this kingdom?” You shout back, “You're the one who stole my ring in the first place; if anything, this is all your fault. What am I supposed to tell my father? ‘A peasant I met on the streets is my soulmate and he will be the future king of this kingdom.’ The other lands will think of us as a joke!”

“If your bastard of a father never ignored my village in the first place then we wouldn't be here arguing like kids,” Baekhyun growls. “I wouldn't be living on the streets living off of scraps I find from dumpsters. My adopted brothers would still have their birth parents, and we wouldn't be an embarrassment to your ‘perfect’ kingdom. Life might be hard for you, but have you ever experienced life on the streets? Barely knowing if you're gonna survive the next day? No, you haven't, because you've been spoon-fed since the day you were born and everything you've ever wanted has been handed to you on a silver platter.”

Your blood boils with anger, but you can't seem to find words to fire back. Because he's right. Everything you've ever wanted has been handed to you on a silver platter.

But you're stubborn and stubborn people don't give in and apologize easily.

“Is that it? That's all you're gonna do? Just stand there and stare at me angrily?” Baekhyun laughs darkly. “Is it because I'm right and you have nothing to prove me wrong?”

Your lack of response only gives him the satisfaction that he is right.

“Don't talk to me ever again. Soulmate or not, I don't care. Just leave me alone.”

And for the fourth time since you've met him, he walks away without another word.

“Baekhyun!”

The said man looks up from his spot on the cobbled ground. He straightens at the familiar voice but refuses to look.

“There you are,” Junmyeon says, stepping into the light provided by a hanging lantern from above. “Look, I'm really sorry about-”

“Kicking me out of the house?” Baekhyun’s voice is ice cold, and Junmyeon steps back from the shock. Baekhyun doesn't want to see Junmyeon. Not now. “You're gonna have to do a lot more than a simple sorry, Junmyeon.”

From the corner of his eye, he watches as hurt flashes across Junmyeon’s face.

“Mom’s worried about you,” Junmyeon whispers.

“So? Aren't you glad I'm not there anymore? You won't have to deal with a thief in your house.” The words seem to flow out of Baekhyun’s mouth and he can't stop them even as he feels his heart shatter at his own words.

“Baekhyun, I won't ask for your forgiveness. But I'm asking for you to please, come back home.” Junmyeon is growing desperate with every word. “Kyungsoo has stopped eating from the guilt eating at him. He thinks it's all his fault that you're out here all alone.”

The mention of Kyungsoo makes Baekhyun soften ever so slightly. “Tell him it's not his fault and I don't blame him. He was just doing what he thought was right. It's my fault I'm out here, and I deserve to stay out here for all that I've done.”

“Baekhyun-”

“Just leave me alone, Junmyeon. I'll come back when I'm ready.”

The next day, you're back in the village, this time with some food you stole off the counters of the kitchen wrapped in a silk cloth.

Honestly, you're not sure why you're back here when the one person you're here for, clearly doesn't want to see you. Maybe I'm just feeling pitiful about his situation.

Maybe it's because he's my soulmate.

Or maybe...it's because I feel sorry for what I've said to him.

Instead of taking in your surroundings like last time, you head straight for the familiar alley where you had left Baekhyun the previous night. He might not be there, but it's worth checking. Also because you had no idea where else to look.

Stepping into the darkness that's illuminated by a few hanging lanterns on the walls of each building, you carefully step your way through the alley. You feel as if there's eyes watching your every move, hiding in the darkness, and a shiver goes down your spine with every sound that you hear.

It wasn't scary last night, you think to yourself. Probably because you were too busy yelling at Baekhyun to be paranoid.

Finally, you spot him sitting on the ground further in the alley, staring off into space.

“I thought I told you I didn't want to see you again.” Baekhyun’s voice is monotone and cold. He looks up at you with a stone-cold glare. “Are you here because you genuinely care about me or are you here because I'm your soulmate and that's just what soulmates do?”

“Neither. I came to apologize for what I said to you yesterday. I was wrong to be pinning the blame on you, about the whole...soulmate situation. It's not your fault.” You stop in front of him and plop the silk cloth onto the ground. Fresh fruits roll out and there's another wrapped cloth inside the unfurled one. “These are for you.”

“You...brought these for me?” He grows quiet and there's a hint of something you can't place your finger on. The glare on his face melts away as he scans the contents of the unfurled cloth.

You nod.

“There's no poison or anything that will kill me, is there?” He looks up at you and you can practically see the desperation in his eyes. Desperation for food he probably hasn't had in who knows how long.

You almost laugh at him. “And why would I do that?”

“To punish me for stealing your ring and talking nonsense about your father.”

“A bit far-fetched for that, don't you think? Now eat up or the cookies will get stale,” you say, and you soon find yourself sitting on the ground next to him. It's extremely uncomfortable compared to the plush seating you're accustomed to, but you don't complain.

“Cookies?” He looks at you with a tilt of his head.

“You don't know what cookies are?”

He shakes his head and you can't help but gawk at him. He doesn't know what cookies are?

So you snatch the smaller bundle and unwrap it before holding it out to him, revealing round, hard pastries with little chocolate chips sprinkled across their surfaces.

He hesitantly reaches out, glancing between you and the cookies. Still, he takes one nonetheless and bites into it.

Then he's practically shoving it down his throat while reaching for more.

“Is it good?” You ask, amused rather than disgusted by his lack of manners. Baekhyun only nods in response.

You watch as the cookies gradually vanish one by one, as Baekhyun reaches for more and more until the last one had finally been devoured.

Baekhyun speaks up just after he swallows. “Why did you bring me all this?” He gestures to the silk cloth on the ground with the various fruits atop it.

You could only shrug. “To apologize.”

“I know that much already.” Baekhyun coughs. “But...thanks. Even though I've been nothing but a complete arse to you.”

“I don't blame you,” you find yourself saying. “I think I would have acted the same way if I were in your shoes.”

The two of you look away from one another, looking at everything but the other.

“So.” Baekhyun finally speaks up after a long moment of silence, save for the busy hustle of the village not too far from where you sit. “Soulmates, huh? I suppose it's no surprise I've never heard of it until you came around. Royals never really share their tales with us peasants.”

“It was always a thing in the palace,” you respond. “Nobody really thought of soulmates being for peasants. They always thought it was a noble thing. I did too, once.”

“Once.” Baekhyun snorts. He then falls silent, and you're itching to ask another question.

“What happened with...your family?” You're hesitant to ask, fearing the worst out of Baekhyun. You've managed to somewhat settle your differences to finally have a proper conversation for once, but you might have ruined it now.

“I don't want to talk about it,” he answers. “Goes farther back than your little ring.”

“Oh.” You drop the subject.

“Speaking of which.” Baekhyun digs his hand into his pocket and pulls something out. “Here. Take it back.”

He holds something out in the palm of his hand for you to see. Curious, you lean over for a peek.

It's your ring.

“You...never sold it?” You don't move. Only your eyes flicker back and forth between the man in front of you and the ring. Baekhyun shakes his head in response.

“Never found it in me to sell off something that has value behind what it's worth at first glance.”

“...Thank you.” You pick it up from his palm and he lets his arm drop to his side. You slide it back on your finger, the familiar cold metal against your skin soothing to the touch.

“So you can go now. You have your ring back,” Baekhyun murmurs. You watch as he shifts his body so he's lying on his side, head on his arm and towards you. “Just forget everything about me and the whole soulmate thing. It's probably just some sort of trick. We don't belong together, you and me. You probably know that better than I do.”

Just as Luhan and Yifan said.

But you find yourself reluctant to leave. You look down at the marking on your wrist. There's no way you could just...forget. You couldn't just forget the boy from the village, your soulmate.

But he's right. We're from two different worlds.

We don't belong together.

[themurphyzone]

All Time Travelers Go to Heaven Ch 6

Okay, okay, I know y’all are screaming for a certain someone but after several plot heavy chapters I gotta slow down a bit. Well this really isn’t filler but at the same time there’s less exposition. 

Ch 6- Road to Madness

Balthazar didn’t sleep well last night. He’d spent it tossing and turning, throwing off the thin blanket he and Vinnie shared, only to roll back under it in a few minutes. It was the watch. It had to be. It ticked loudly, overpowering the sound of the leaky kitchen faucet and Vinnie’s snores. 

It hadn’t been this loud when he was in the limo. Unless the voice inside counted....

That was ridiculous. Clocks don’t talk. It was a figment of his imagination. Yes, just a product of a paranoid mind. 

He was losing it. Vinnie stared at his partner in disbelief. “But you don’t even like coffee.”

“Now’s not the time to question me, Dakota. There are...extraordinary circumstances,” Balthazar said, stabbing a grape so harshly with a fork that it skidded across the table onto Vinnie’s plate. 

“I’ll say. There’s still plenty of jasmine tea packets if you change your mind.” Vinnie poured two cups of steaming hot coffee, setting them on the table. Balthazar immediately tried to take a drink, flinching when the scalding liquid spread bitterly across his tongue.

Balthazar glared at his mug, which mocked him with a child’s doodle of a sun and rainbow. “This mug is entirely too cheery,” Balthazar muttered, dumping the contents down the kitchen sink. 

“We can’t all be sourpusses,” Vinnie shrugged, still polishing off his scrambled eggs. “And I coulda drunk that for you if you didn’t want it.”

“The caffeine isn’t good for either of us,” Balthazar growled, opening the Jinx’s folder to a random page.

The Jinx is dangerous. His ancestors have caused many of history’s greatest calamities: the Great Fire of London, the Great Molasses Flood of 1919, and the Hindenburg Disaster to name a few. I theorize that if we track down the members of the Murphy family throughout the timestream and remove them, we can avert these tragedies. 

Balthazar flipped to a different page. That theory wouldn’t get off the ground. He doubted the Bureau had the resources to track down every person with the surname ‘Murphy’ throughout the time-space continuum. 

Experiment #65: Gauging Reactions to Disaster

For this experiment, we have selected the 14th century, specifically the year 1348. It is important to note that everybody from the Bureau of Time Travel involved, including the Jinx, have been vaccinated against the bubonic plague as a precaution. In addition, we are all wearing special full bodysuits that bacteria cannot penetrate. These will appear to be peasant clothing to outsiders in order to deflect attention.

We will be monitoring the Jinx’s reactions to the scene around him as the Black Death haunts a small Italian town. 

Hour 1: A plague doctor has dropped several flowers after making a house call. The Jinx wants to gather them, but we remind him that nothing is to be touched. He’s disappointed that the doctor doesn’t have his flowers. A gust of wind has blown the flowers out of his hand. A goat has scarfed them down in the middle of the street. A horse and his rider have passed by, and the goat spooks the horse, making the equine rear up and throw his rider to the ground. The man has a broken arm now.

Hour 2: We pass a woman in the beginning stages of the disease, clutching the corpse of a young child whose skin is blackened and blotched. She screams incoherently at the man who is trying to persuade her to add the child to a carriage full of many other corpses, and the Jinx is visibly uncomfortable. 

Hour 3: It appears that Murphy’s Law flares up when the Jinx experiences certain emotions. Further testing needed to determine if new theory is true. We will leave the time period shortly and return to HQ. 

Balthazar didn’t bother reading the conclusion of it. The experiment was complete rubbish anyway. By the standards of the 21st century, it was unethical to deliberately expose a test subject to distressing material. 

He closed the folder and set it in the middle of the table, moving to the pile of dirty dishes in the sink that had built up over the past few days. 

Perhaps busying himself with chores for the next two hours before they left would help keep him awake and occupy his mind. 

Turned out that even dusting the counter, doing laundry, and cleaning the shower wasn’t enough to stop the intrusive thoughts. He worried about the watch. He fretted about the mission. He wondered if Vinnie continued to blame himself. 

“Balthy! I’m ready to go!” Vinnie yelled. “I just-ow, my elbow, gotta get this shoe on. I’m shooing it on. Get it? Cause it’s a shoe, and I need to put it on and-” 

Balthazar sighed. Was Vinnie at least trying with his awful puns these days? He’d heard better jokes from amateur stand-up comedians at a cheap pub. 

“I’m coming!” he called. He was back in his regular outfit, freshly washed that morning. Though he would likely have to change his style later to avoid recognition from any agents that might be searching for him. 

He fingered the watch, debating if he should leave it in the room. A small voice in the back of his head warned him not to lose the watch. Not to let it leave his sight. The consequences would be dire. 

He left the watch on.

Vinnie had been waiting for him by the couch. He adjusted his collar and bow tie, frowning. Balthazar had explained to him that his tracksuit would draw attention from the locals of that time period, and they could possibly be tailed by the Bureau if they saw something out of place. 

“So explain how men in the early 20th century dealt with the heat in these things,” Vinnie complained. “Cause I haven’t worn something this fancy since my great-grandfather’s funeral.” 

Balthazar placed the derby hat over Vinnie’s head and smoothed out the wrinkles of the suit. “Why don’t you ask them?” he suggested, inputting the coordinates in the Transporter. 

A portal materialized, a long street lined with houses on the other side. They stepped through quickly, checking their surroundings to make sure nobody saw them. There were several young boys having a play fight with long sticks, but they were too engrossed in their game to pay attention to Balthazar and Vinnie. 

“Of course it wouldn’t drop us off directly in front of the building they’re at,” Balthazar muttered. “They’re conducting the experiment in this town’s abandoned asylum. Be prepared to ask the locals for directions, Dakota. We are not wandering around this place like a pair of hoodlums.” 

“Or we could just use that,” Vinnie pointed to a comically oversized billboard behind a row of houses. 

Balthazar gave him an unimpressed look. “An entirely too saccharine and sugarcoated advertisement for the American Dream. Really?” 

“No, below that! Directions to the asylum are below that ad,” Vinnie said. “As well as directions to a diner. Maybe we could go there before we return to the 21st century.”

“Head three miles straight down Cambridge, turn right on Windbrook and go straight one and a half miles, and the asylum will be at the top of Jules’ Hill,” Balthazar copied the directions onto a sheet of paper, folding it neatly and stuffing it in a lapel. “Seeing that we cannot walk that far and make it in time, we shall have to steal a car.”

Just as he was wondering how they could pull that off, a black buggy turned from the main road into the neighborhood, then parked on the left side of the street. Balthazar straightened his tie and walked up to the car as the driver’s door opened, a man in a business suit stepping out. Upon seeing Balthazar and Vinnie, he frowned. 

“I don’t believe I’ve ever seen you around before,” the man said. “Who are you?” 

“Ah yes, we are representatives from a car manufacturing plant,” Balthazar lied, tipping his hat and shaking the man’s hand, though he still didn’t look convinced. Balthazar coughed to get Vinnie to pick up the elaborate fabrication.

“Oh, oh, gotcha,” Vinnie winked. “That’s a nice car ya got, but we’re gonna have to do an inspection to make sure everything’s running smoothly. You know how corporates are. Don’t wanna lose money over a recall.”

“I just bought this car two weeks ago, it doesn’t need an inspection-”

Balthazar caught the driver’s door to peer inside before the man slammed it shut. The tank was full. Good. They wouldn’t have to waste time with the upkeep of the car. 

Vinnie walked around the buggy to the passenger’s side. “Nicest bumper I’ve ever seen. The workers did a good job with this one.”

“Get away from my buggy now!” the man demanded, shoving his face close to Balthazar’s. “Who the hell are you people?”

Balthazar grabbed his shoulders and twisted the man around, shoving one arm across his neck and pressing down against his throat. He could tell this man had likely never been in a fight in his entire life. In his surprise, he could only flail his legs helplessly as he was overpowered. “I shall let you go in a bit, but business first,” Balthazar whispered. 

The man gurgled pathetically, nodding. 

“Your keys.”

He offered no resistance, a trembling hand reaching inside his pocket and drawing out the keys. Balthazar grabbed it and released his hold. The man dropped to his knees, gasping for air. 

“Thank you for your time, sir,” Balthazar said pleasantly, hopping into the driver’s seat. He plugged the keys into the ignition and started the buggy, leaving the poor man eating dust within seconds.

“That’s strange,” Vinnie commented. “Usually the corporate cover story works.”

Balthazar pulled the directions and the Transporter out and tossed them into Vinnie’s lap. “Focus, Dakota,” he said. “Which direction is Windbrook in?”

“Three miles down Cambridge,” Vinnie replied. 

“I know it’s three miles down Cambridge,” Balthazar snapped. “Am I supposed to turn right or left on Cambridge? That blasted sign didn’t mention that part.”

Vinnie shrugged. “Just pick a direction. You got a fifty-fifty shot at picking the correct one.” 

“We will be wasting precious time if I pick the wrong one!” Balthazar complained. “And we need to get there as quickly as possible, because I don’t want to be tailed by any cops. I knew I should’ve knocked that gentleman unconscious. Isn’t there a GPS function on the Transporters?”

“Okay, okay, calm down. FYI, that feature doesn’t work,” Vinnie said, holding up the Transporter, which displayed an error screen. “Satellites haven’t been invented yet. And neither have cake pops, which I’ve been craving lately. It’s both a cake and a lollipop in one. Seriously, whoever invented those was a genius.” 

“Fortunately for you, we haven’t gone back far enough to avoid the American staple of hamburgers and fries,” Balthazar muttered. “Approaching Cambridge. I’m going right.” 

“Personally I would’ve used the maze approach and stuck to the left wall,” Vinnie said. “But, hey. Whatever floats your boat. Or car in this case.” 

“I’m sticking to the right lane,” Balthazar said. “Keep an eye out for Windbrook and the police.”

Vinnie nodded and rolled down the window, letting his arm hang out. Five minutes later, he tapped on Balthazar’s arm. “There’s a cop. But his light isn’t on.”

Balthazar checked the side mirror, and sure enough, there was a cop behind them. “Okay, so there’s a cop,” Balthazar nervously adjusted his collar. “No big deal. He’s probably just out on patrol. Not gonna arrest us for carjacking or anything.” 

He sped up slightly, though he was still within the speed limit. His foot was itching to push down on the pedal and try to lose the cop, but he had enough restraint. It wouldn’t last long. 

He was not going to be arrested again on a mission.

A car zoomed by on the left lane, startling Balthazar out of his thoughts. They were driving well over the speed limit. 

The police car’s lights flashed, a loud alarm piercing the air. 

“Uh, maybe you should hit the gas,” Vinnie suggested. “Getting kinda hot in here....”

Then the police car pulled into the left lane in pursuit of the speeding driver, leaving Balthazar and Vinnie behind. 

They breathed a sigh of relief. 

“So I’ve never seen such a huge cop out before,” Vinnie said, grinning. 

Balthazar groaned. “No bad puns when I’m driving, Dakota. I always feel the urge to let you walk to our destination afterwards.” 

Vinnie smirked, unapologetic for his pun. “Oh, we made it to Windbrook after all! Turn right here and it will be another-uh, let me check the paper real quick-one and a half miles to Jules’ Hill.”

Balthazar turned right. The road contained more dirt and gravel than the previous did, so the ride was more bumpy. The buggy held up rather well. Then again, they’d lucked out and managed to steal a car in brand new condition. 

“There’s Jules’ Hill!” Vinnie exclaimed. “And I can see the abandoned asylum from here. Oh wow. I can see all the broken building materials too.”

“They don’t call it abandoned without a good reason,” Balthazar said, his mind wandering to the horrible treatment of patients in asylums he’d read about. Where people like the Jinx were just another statistic. A relic of the past. 

Or perhaps, the technology had evolved. The methods had not. 

Balthazar parked the car next to the rusted, iron gate. They climbed out of the car, standing back to survey the massive, broken down building. A metal sign had been torn off the top, lying in a massive pile of dead leaves. 

Vinnie reached out to touch the gate, and the doors fell apart with a loud crash, now a broken heap. 

“The Charles Jules Asylum,” Balthazar murmured. “We’re here.”

[kayleygoestolondon]

Half Term Trip Recap

School Update: (only read this if you want to waste time, because this is about the most uneventful part of my life)

It doesn’t seem possible that I’ve survived the entire first half term of school. The end of the first half term meant we did a ton of testing on the students to assess their progress for the first part of the school year. Testing means a lot of marking and data analysis (everyone’s least favourite part of teaching). Additionally, right before half term break we had our first Parent-Teacher interview night. I met with 25 families back-to-back. Because I’m an idiot, I fuelled myself with chocolate bars and coffee the entire night and then I was too wired to go to bed by the time I actually got home. Overall, the evening was a great experience. I always enjoy meeting the families of my students and everyone was quite friendly. I even got “half-term gifts”, which apparently isn’t normally a thing, but I’m never gonna turn down free chocolate. I’m trying to tell myself that I am going to ration them and make them last until the end of November, but let’s be honest and acknowledge I will furtively be eating candy at my desk until they’re all gone by the end of the week. I also only have 7 weeks to go until Christmas break... but who’s counting? 

General Life Update:

October was a super fun month! I had some great nights out with colleagues and friends. I have sampled a LOT of different pizzas and beers at this point, which is really all I have ever wanted from my life. I went to a belated “Canadian Thanksgiving” potluck at a colleague’s house. We definitely had way too much food (my favourite part about Thanksgiving) and it was good fun. I also did a zombie-themed escape room with a group of coworkers and nearly shit my pants when a guy dressed as a zombie popped out from underneath a counter I was leaning on. Lesson learned: I would be completely useless in a zombie apocalypse, unless there’s a need for flailing and/or swearing.

It’s been nice making some friends and meeting people outside of school as well. Matt and Callum (two Australians) have been great at mocking my Canadian accent and beating me at pool. Between them and a few of the British people I’ve met, I’m increasing my vocabulary and learning that I do, in fact, say “aboot”.

Trip Update:

One of my best friends, Danielle, flew over from Canada to meet me in London on October 21. The next morning we hopped on a flight to Berlin. We did a free walking tour in the afternoon around the city. We saw a TON of stuff on the tour...

Jewish Holocaust Memorial

Checkpoint Charlie

Longest remaining part of the Berlin wall

Brandenburg Gate

Museum Island

After the tour we grabbed some food (naturally I shotgunned an entire pizza) and had an early night because we were both exhausted. The second day in Berlin we went back to Museum Island and went inside the Berlin Dome, which is an absolutely stunning cathedral. We were able to go up to the very top and get an aerial view of the city. We then journeyed to Potsdam where we went to the Sanssouci Palace and Gardens. It was a bit of a gloomy and rainy day, but it was really beautiful with all of the fall colours. The actual Sanssouci Palace was closed, so we went to the “new” Palace, which is still extremely old, massive, and decadent. Our last day in Berlin we did a guided tour out to Sachsenhausen Concentration Camp. It was an unreal experience. I would consider myself to be quite knowledgeable about the Holocaust because I have done novel studies and entire units on it, but I wasn’t prepared for what it would be like to actually go to the site. It was unsettling, but very powerful to walk around some of the original buildings. 

After Berlin, we took a train to Prague. I LOVE taking the train (way more than flying). It was a 4 hour trip to get there and I think I was awake for about 1/4 of it. I had good intentions of staying awake and watching the scenery, but pretty much anyone who has traveled with me in the past (like Braden) can attest to the fact that I fall asleep with my mouth open almost immediately upon departure. In Prague we did a beer tour, which was wicked. Our guide was really friendly and took us to a few different microbreweries and pubs around the city. Apparently the tradition in Prague is to pour your beer so that about one third of it is just head, which isn’t my favourite, but there’s something to be said about beer that is literally cheaper than water. I literally only learned one Czech word the entire time I was there - “Na zdravi!”, which means “cheers”. 

We spent one full day just walking around Prague and exploring the city. It is so picturesque - like being in a postcard or a painting. Prague is basically how I envisioned Europe would look before coming here. All the streets are winding, narrow cobblestones and the buildings are gorgeous. We saw Prague Castle, some famous basilicas and synagogues, Charles Bridge, the Lennon Wall, the Astronomical Clock, and some beautiful gardens. On our last morning there, we went to the National Museum before catching our flight back to London. 

The people in the Czech Republic were much friendlier than the Germans and were generally better at trying to communicate in English. We had some language barrier issues in Berlin (their words are way too long and ridiculous for me to decipher). Everything in Prague was also stupidly cheap. Meals barely cost you anything and the food was incredible everywhere we went. There are a million restaurants and pubs around the city. I loved everything about Prague and would go back there in a heartbeat. Berlin, in comparison, is not nearly as beautiful... which is understandable, considering most of it was destroyed during WWII and was rebuilt by the DDR. They both have great history and it was nice to visit two places that are so different. 

To cap off my long-winded update, I’ve been really fortunate so far in all aspects. I’ve been able to see and do so much since coming here. Best life decision I ever made was moving here. In November I’m planning on doing a weekend trip either to Wales or Frances (still undecided), and over Christmas break I’m jetting to Italy and Greece. Hard to complain about anything when I keep that in mind :)

[domhovasse]

We'll wish we could come back to these days.

Laos was incredible. I had heard amazing things going into it, and it absolutely did not disappoint. We caught an overnight bus from Chiang Mai to Nong Khai, a city right on the border of Thailand and Laos, got our visas on arrival, and took a bus across the border to Vientianne. Once there, we bartered with a tuktuk driver (we were becoming professional at bartering), who took us to the bus station. Our timing was impeccable - we got the last 2 seats on the bus, and it took off about 10 minutes after we boarded. We arrived in the beautiful town of Vang Vieng around dinner time, checked-in to our hostel and then went for a little walk. We ended up at Smile Bar, a tranquil, outdoor bar, where we spent the next few hours sitting in hammocks along the river, watching the sun set behind the mountains, with a beer and a baguette sandwich in hand. It was the nicest little “welcome to Laos.” That night we walked around town a little, and stopped at a bar for a little game of beer pong.

The entire following day was spent on a scooter, exploring the countryside, going into caves, and jumping into lagoons. It was so magical, and felt amazing to be surrounded by beautiful mountains again. That evening, we walked around town some more before getting dinner, and then returning to the same bar as the previous night. We ended up sitting at down at a table and making friends with this couple from Paris, who were super sweet! The next day, we partook in a tubing/river bar crawl. Vang Vieng is pretty well known for it, although the government had to crack down a couple years ago because the yearly death toll among travellers was at an all time high. We essentially spent the entire day floating along the river and stopping at a couple bars along the way. The rest of the evening was spent eating, socializing, and trying to recover from our long & very crazy day. Alyssa’s phone took a little swim during our tubing adventure, so she was mourning its death and we were hoping it would make a full recovery after a few days spent in a bag of rice.  (Fun fact: a dry bag does not serve it’s purpose if it isn’t sealed shut.) Both of us had already purchased tickets to the famous “Jungle Party”, which neither of us were too keen on anymore. We went anyways, just to check it out, but left not too long after, as we were exhausted from our crazy day, and not big fans of the deep house music being played.

The following morning, we checked out of our hostel, hopped on a minivan bus, and began the long journey to Luang Prabang. Laos doesn’t have proper highways so a 200km drive took almost 7 hours. We finally arrived in the evening, checked-in to our hostel, and went to get some drinks at Utopia, a nice bar along the Mekong River, and walked around town for a bit before sitting down at a restaurant to eat dinner. Before heading to sleep, we took a walk across town to a bar, where we ran into 2 australian guys from our hostel room. Our second day, we slept in, and then spent the majority of the day walking around, eating and exploring. In the evening, we walked up to a temple and lookout spot as the sun was setting over the valley. It was so so pretty and honestly made me fall in love with Laos.

The following day, we woke up quite early, ate breakfast at our hostel, and went on a half day excursion to the Kuang Si waterfalls, which was easily one of the prettiest things I’ve ever experienced. Thanks to our tolerance to cold BC water, we were brave enough to jump in and spend some time swimming in the falls. There was also a bear rescue sanctuary, so we spent some time watching them. We got back to the city in the early afternoon, got some sandwiches for lunch, and Alyssa decided to hang out at the hostel, while despite the scorching heat, I went to check out Wat Xieng Thong, since I hadn’t visited a Laotian temple yet. That evening, we took it easy again, wandering around the market area to grab some food and souvenirs. On our last morning, I woke up early to catch the Alms Giving Ceremony (a sacred Lao tradition) before sunrise, and then we got a tuktuk to the airport, where we caught our short flight to Vietnam.

Next up was Vietnam. We had pretty high hopes for Vietnam, and I can fully understand the hype now. The only regret I have is not planning our days/transportation better, because we had to skip a few places that were highly recommended by several friends. Oh well - you can’t do it all, and I definitely plan on going back hopefully one day soon! We decided to begin in the north and make our way to the south, stopping at all the major stops along the way, starting with Hanoi. This was a super cool, bustling city, with an old city center where I could walk around for days on end. The shops in the center were all grouped together by category for example there was a bamboo street, a lantern street, a stationary street, etc. and there are so many great museums to visit. The French influence in this city was pretty visible, even in the way locals sat outside of cafes/restaurants, creating a sort of ‘terrace’ - which obviously made me love it even more. The coffee scene was HUGE here, which Alyssa and I fully embraced, although their traditional coffee is served with condensed milk, which Alyssa found way too sweet. Our first day, after arriving, Alyssa went out to buy a new phone while I stayed back to catchup on some TV shows and social media. We met up for lunch and the went to Maison Centrale (Hoa Lo Prison), an old prison used by the French colonists in French Indochina for political prisoners, and later by North Vietnam for U.S. prisoners of war during the Vietnam War. In the evening, we got dinner on this street with tons of bars and restaurants, and then participated in our hostel’s pubcrawl. On our way home that night, we got introduced to the most life-changing Banh Mi sandwiches ever. My life actually has not been the same since.

The following day we went on a waking tour, which brought us to all the major sights, giving us an overview of the city and highlighting some important history, including the turbulent relationship that Vietnam has had with both the French and the Chinese over the years. Considering my heritage, I had a nice little awkward laugh at this information. We then visited the Women’s museum, which taught us about everything from customs/rituals, to the role of women during the war, to their role in modern day society. It was so well curated and ended up being one of the highlights of our trip. In the evening, we decided to check out a water puppet show, which originated in Hanoi, then got some delicious bun cha for dinner, before participating in our hostel’s pub crawl (again). The following morning was quite slow, first switching hostels, and then we spent the entire day on foot, between Alyssa wanting to do a bit of shopping, and me stopping at every single bank, trying to withdraw money. In the afternoon we stopped to take some pictures at ‘Train Street’, a very narrow, residential street with a train track running through it. We were there for a while, but unfortunately weren’t lucky enough to see a train pass by. Eventually, we made our way back to the old city center and got dinner at a hole in the wall restaurant filled with locals and non-English menus, before getting to bed early. 

We spent the next 2 nights and 3 days on a Ha Long Bay cruise, taking in the beautiful scenery by boat and kayak, with a night spent on Cat Ba island. It’s a bit of a touchy subject, because essentially we got scammed, but in the end, we made some awesome friends and made a good time of it. (And we ended up getting a partial refund, after much arguing.) After arriving back in Hanoi, we grabbed our luggage, got dinner with some cruise friends, and then caught our overnight bus North to SaPa, to spend 2 days trekking through villages and rice fields with a local, & staying the night in her family’s home. We hiked a total of 20km over 2 days, with our personal Hmong tour guide, learning about her life and the lives of the Hmong people. This was definitely an experience I’ll never forget, and one that taught me a lot! We spent an extra evening and night in SaPa, which was spent visiting the market, wandering the streets, and freezing our asses off. (It was -2 degrees!) In hindsight, we should’ve taken an overnight bus back to Hanoi instead of wasting a day in transit, because our bus back to Hanoi the following morning ended up being quite delayed, and then we got scammed by a taxi driver who had a rigged meter. It was another one of our low points on the trip, and put us both in a terrible mood, but in retrospect, it wasn’t that much money.

Next was Hoi An, where we spent most of our days walking the cute, lantern-filled streets, taking pictures, browsing the markets, and getting clothes custom made. We also got manicures one day and spent the afternoon at the beach. It honestly was one of, if not THE cutest city I’ve ever been to! It’s not very big, but I could’ve spent days on end walking around. The city’s even prettier at night, and one evening, we went on a nice little romantic boat ride along the river; it was soooo cute! There were also some of our cruise friends in Hanoi at the same time as us so we all went out to a bar together one night. On our last day, Alyssa and I split off and went on separate excursions: Alyssa a cooking class, and I, a tour of the famous My Son ruins. We met back up at our hostel in the evening, and spent the rest of our last night getting dinner, and socializing at our hostel before getting to bed early.

We woke up bright and early the next morning to catch our flight to Ho Chi Minh, which was both an eye-opening and very educational stop on our trip. We spent most of our time in museums, and walking around, learning about the history, and eating A LOT. I can’t imagine what it would’ve been like to live in Saigon in the 70s when GongGong (my maternal grandpa) was living there. After checking into our hostel in Ho Chi Minh, I wandered around a little, and went to the market to get some lunch, while Alyssa got some extra sleep since she was feeling sick again. We met up at the Independent Palace, which was the home and workplace of the President of South Vietnam during the Vietnam War, and then spent some time at the War Memorial Museum, which was quite a heavy, sobering experience, especially the exhibition on Agent Orange. We spent the rest of the evening walking around, down the rich shopping/hotel street, then to the river, and eventually returning home to get dinner close to our hostel.

The following day was super chill. After breakfast, we headed across town to Chinatown and the Binh Tay market, which was actually under renovation and therefore  relocated into big storage containers. We wanted to get lunch there, but we saw a huge rat run past us and immediately squealed & turned around. We ended up going back into town to get a late lunch at Ben Thanh street food market, before doing a bit of shopping in the area. From there we went to a sky bar for some rooftop drinks and watch the sunset over the city.

We also spent half a day on a trip to the Cuchi Tunnels, and actually got to crawl through them, which was also quite eye opening. I’m not someone who easily gets claustrophobic, but I was starting to feel anxious after a minute; I really don’t know how people stayed underground for hours on end. The rest of the day was spent walking around and browsing markets for cheap finds. We got our final Vietnamese dinner at the market, and then spent our last night together going to a bar and dancing the night away with one of our roommates.