#however. sometimes when im playing guitar i feel like hes standing next to me and all i have to do is look over

[tangledstarlight]

...i said i was going to make it and well, here we are i guess. im so sorry for this.

Carlos Molina’s to Guide to Ghost Hood (title subject to change) 

welcome to the 1st edition, maybe i’ll make a 2nd if i get inspired enough but also, this is such a mess already i don’t think the world needs a part 2 dfghg

Link to the power point is in the first reblog. (i’d highly recommend watching it for the full experience dfgh)

Link to ao3 also in the first reblog. 

below the cut is the accompanying fic and description of the rules/guide.

The tape recorder lets out a low buzzing sound as Carlos presses a button on the side and stands it up between them on the dining room table. Julie shoots an amused glance at Reggie who’s taken up residence in the chair next to him, the two of them flipping open notebooks and clutching pencils. 

“Where did you even find a tape recorder?” She wonders, stretching out a finger to touch the silver rectangle only for her hand to be swatted away by Reggie.

“Found it in a box of moms stuff and dad said we could order some tapes from amazon,” Carlos replies matter of factly, straightening up in his chair once he seems to have found the page he was looking for. “Right. Let's start off easy, shall we?” 

He looks at her expectantly and Julie rolls her eyes, waving a hand at the two of them, “Lets.” 

“Question one,” Carlos taps his pencil at the top of his page before squinting at her, “Did you conduct any séance related activities before the ghosts showed up?” 

Julie blinks at him, wondering if he’s joking but the pair of them just look back at her, heads both slightly tilted and it’s at that moment that she realises how serious they’re going to be about this. It was going to be a long afternoon of questioning apparently. 

“No, I didn’t conduct any séance related activities. I just put on their CD and they y’know, fell out of the sky.” 

“Interesting, interesting,” Carlos mutters as he looks at Reggie’s notebook as the older boy writes her answer down, underlines something and taps it with his pencil that makes Carlos let out a small hm. “So you don’t know anything about the dark room? Didn’t make any wishes?” 

“No,” Julie shakes her head, watches Reggie write something else down and tilt his notebook to Carlos. It’s weird, watching them communicate like that, like they’ve created a shorthand between them and don’t even require her presence to have a conversation. Which is obviously true because they’ve clearly discussed all this beforehand. 

“You walked through Luke right? What did that feel like to you?” Reggie’s question catches her off guard and she looks between them, but Carlos is already looking at her, waiting for her answer. 

“It was um cold? But also not. I--” she frowns, trying to think back to that first night in the kitchen when she’d turned around and walked through him. Back when she’s barely known any of them and was more annoyed by their presence then comforted. “It was weird. The first few seconds after I walked through him I just felt cold but then it was like a rush of warmth? You know when you get one of those random shivers that runs through your whole body? It feels all weird and tingly but also kinda nice? Like that.” 

“Did it feel like you got a feel of Luke?” Carlos asks and Julie shrugs, a slight blush on her cheeks and somehow, despite the fact they can’t see each other, the two of them share a look. 

“What’s the next question,” anything to move off the topic of walking through Luke and how it felt. 

//

“Oh Julie is gonna be so pissed at you guys,” Alex mutters but makes no move to step in and stop the ‘experiment’ currently going on. He watches as Reggie tries to put a hand on Carlos’ shoulder, fingers phasing through the younger boy's jacket with a frown. 

“She won't be pissed if it works,” is all Reggie says, face morphing into one of concentration as he slowly lowers his hand on to Carlos’ shoulder again. 

For his part, Carlos bounces slightly on his toes, eyes fixed on the notebook in Alex’s hand in case they need to tell him something. And okay, Alex might not fully agree with the way the two of them are going about this whole thing, but he can’t say he’s not on board with it. Their whole stint as ghosts has been nothing but confusion after confusion that not even Willie has answers for. Does he think Reggie and Carlos are going to uncover some fundamental thing that makes them the way they are? Probably not. Will they maybe get him some kind of answer? God he hopes so. 

Especially since there’s been small moments in the last few weeks where Ray and Carlos have been able to hear them even without them playing music or Julie nearby. Which had scared all of them. Thought it was nothing compared to Ray’s reaction when he’d apparently walked into the kitchen to find Julie and Luke hugging, only for him to vanish when they suddenly let go. It was a hell of a way to find out they could be seen if they were touching her. 

“Oh!” Carlos suddenly exclaims, head whipping to look at his shoulder where Reggie’s hand is resting solidly on the fabric of the jacket. Alex feels his eyes widen a fraction and watches Reggie’s smile widen as he squeezes slightly on Carlos’ shoulder. “Oh my god! I can feel that!” 

“Holy shit,” Alex whispers, grip on the pencil in his fingers growing. 

“Hey! I heard that too! Quick! Write it down! 30 minutes and- and however many attempts it took!” Carlos grins, face turning towards him and Alex doesn’t even have time to feel guilty about swearing before he’s scribbling in Reggie’s notebook.

//

“Thanks again for taking me,” Carlos says as he pulls his seat belt across his chest and clicks it in, eyes drifting from his tia in the front seat to the little notebook resting on the back seat and the pencil that’s hovering just a few inches off the paper. Subtly he sees it tap on the page, once, twice, and he bites down on his grin, tucking his hands under his thighs to stop from bouncing in his seat. They’re ready. 

“Of course mijo,” Victoria smiles over at him as she turns on the engine, fingers already messing with the buttons on the radio to find her favourite station. “I have to say I’m impressed. Planning ahead for your dad's birthday.” 

“Mhm,” he agrees, his eyes on the notebook that he can just see in the rearview mirror. The pencils resting between the creases in the pages and he holds his breath as the radio jumps to a different station. 

Victoria frowns slightly, her eyes darting from the road to the radio and back, hand reaching out to change it back. When it jumps to another station. And another. Carlos feels his eyes widen a little, legs bouncing on top of his hands as he watches the radio cycle through station after station, only lingers for a few seconds on each before moving on. 

Finally it stops, the words of Despacito ringing through the car and it’s lucky they’re at a red light he thinks, because when Victoria tries to change it it jumps right back. 

“What the f-” she starts, the furrow between her brows growing deeper and the knuckles on her hand that’s still gripping the wheel turning white. 

“Can we leave it? I like this song,” he looks over at her with a smile, blinking in what he hopes is a completely innocent way. He’s pretty sure she’s too distracted by the radio to question it. 

“Sure, sure,” she mutters, not even looking at him, eyes going from the road to the radio. 

The song ends and from the corner of his eye he can see the pencil in the back moving, Reggie or Willie writing something down and he has to stop himself from turning around to see what it is. Instead he watches as tia starts changing the radio station again, her fingers never leaving the touch screen as if that was the problem. But the second she lands on her favourite 80’s classics station and is moving her fingers away it changes. Skipping through stations again until Despacito is once again filling the car. 

It’s probably lucky that they’re at another red light and that there’s no one behind them because her eyes widen and she’s suddenly saying words in Spanish that he knows he shouldn’t know and is pulling over to the side of the road. 

“We have to get out! The car is being possessed! Out, out Carlos! Come on!” Her seat belt is off and her door is open before Carlos even has a chance to process what’s happening. The notebook from the back is pushed in front of his face and he tilts his head a little to side to read Reggie’s familiar handwriting, 

Too far? 

“Maybe,” he whispers back, taking the notebook out of the ghost's hand as he starts to get out of the car, plucking the pencil out of the metal spirals and making a note about not pushing tia in a moving vehicle and to wait until after they’ve gone shopping first. 

She’s got her phone pressed to ear when he joins her on the sidewalk, pacing up and down. Carlos is pretty sure there’s going to be a family dinner story time in their near future. 

//

Luke watches as Carlos sets his tape recorder up, idly plucking out a half finished tune on his guitar in order to be seen and heard. He doesn’t really get the other boys interest in figuring out their ghostly state of being. The same way he doesn’t really care about finding answers to all of Alex’s questions. 

They ate some bad street dogs. They died. Julie brought them back and then she saved them a second time. They can play music and sometimes be seen. He already has all the answers he needs and it’s two words: Julie Molina. 

Would it be nice to know what the black room was? Sure. Did he sometimes wonder why they could be seen but other ghosts couldn't? Sometimes. Did he want answers? Only if someone was going to give them to him without having to do the work. Was he going to sit here and answer all of Carlos’ questions because it was important to him and to the others? Fuck yeah he was. 

“Does that think pick up our voices even if we’re not playing and not near Julie?” He nods at the recorder on the table after Carlos hits a button. 

“Yeah! It’s so cool too. You sound like, all static-y and I have to listen really hard sometimes because your voices fade in and out but they’re there!” 

Okay, Luke can admit that is pretty cool, “That’s wicked. Maybe we should start using that to communicate instead of writing.” He was really sick of people commenting on his handwriting. 

“Dude that’s genius! It would be like leaving each other voice notes!” He gestures in the air with his pencil the same way Julie does when she’s realised the issue with a verse and Luke smiles softly. He doesn’t know what voice notes are, but he’s glad he could contribute to the communication issue. 

“What questions have you got for me then little dude?” He raises an eyebrow at Carlos as he flips through his notebook. 

//

When he’d first knocked Alex down Willie never thought it would lead to him sitting in the Molina’s family living room, a whiteboard resting on his knees as a twelve year old shows him bar graphs and pie charts of information on ghosts. 

There was probably some kind of domino-butterfly effect going on that had led him here. But he’s too busy trying to fit all his know ghost knowledge onto a whiteboard so Carlos can fill in the gaps in his knowledge. 

Over the years Willie has met a lot of lifers, has interacted with a handful at the HGC but he’s never met a family like the Molina’s. Who found out ghosts were real and instead of running, or trying to profit off of them, had just...welcomed them into the family. Arms wide and hearts open. 

And more than that, here was Carlos trying to get answers to questions that none of them really had an answer too. 

“Black room, yes or no?” Carlos asks, holding up a flash card and a clothes peg, ready to add it to the line of string stretching across the room. It was already littered with other cards in an order that Willie really didn’t understand but seemed to make perfect sense to the younger boy and Reggie. 

Not for me, or anyone I asked at the club, he scribbles down, turning to the board around. 

“Just like we thought,” he nods to himself, taking two steps to the left and reaching up to attach the card, “An anomaly.” he whispers it to himself and Willie has to bite his lip to stop from smiling before remembering that Carlos can’t actually see him. 

“Hey,” Alex’s voice from the doorway drags his gaze away from the lifer and the smile he’d been trying to stop spreads across his face, “How’s it going?”

“I don’t think we’re even half way through,” he chuckles, gesturing with one hand at the stack of flashcards and the charts he hasn’t even seen yet. “Do you understand this system?” 

The exasperated laugh that leaves Alex’s lips is answer enough before he’s even shaking his head, strands of blonde hair dipping into his eyes and Willie wants to reach to move away, “Not a clue. They’ve tried to explain it to us but it makes zero sense to anyone but them.”  

“Hey, Alex, stop distracting him, we’re working here!” Carlos’ voice makes him jump, head turning back to where he’s standing with his arms crossed and shaking his head in disappointment in the vague direction of where Alex is standing. 

“Wait, can he see you?” Willie frowns, mind trying to remember if he knew this or not. 

“No, he’s just really good at sensing us these days,” Alex sighs, but there’s a fond look in his eyes as he looks at Carlos, “He says it’s his ghost powers kicking in from how often he hangs out with Reggie and from all the failed teleportation experiments.” 

“The failed what now?” 

“Oh, you’ll find out. I think it’s section 7?” Alex grins, pushing off from where he’d been leaning against the doorway and waving.

Willie turns back to Carlos feeling a little more confused than he had minutes ago but also much more intrigued about teleportation experiments. And if he could help get some answers for any of the many questions Alex had, that was cool too.

//

Carlos Molina’s Guide to Ghosting. So you became a ghost, huh?

 (working title, subject to change)

By Carlos Molina, with special thanks to Reggie Peters and Willie Skateboard. 

1st Edition. 

Dedicated to Alex Mercer, so he can stop asking so many questions. We’re working on it buddy.

1. Tangibility 

They can walk through anything (except my sister now, reasons still unclear). 

Works especially well with walls, doors and locked vaults (see exhibit a) 

When they walk through people it “allows them to get a feel for the person” – Reggie Peters. “It’s weird” – Alex Mercer. No comment from Luke Patterson as he was too busy staring at Julie. 

2. Souls

Objects can be attached to their souls. 

Still unclear if it has to be an object that they were close to in life, or if they can attach their souls to any object once a ghost. 

Experiments with Reggie Peters are still ongoing. Updates will follow.

3. Being Seen

Can be seen by “lifers*” when they play music with Julie. 

This is the first rule which only applies to our ghosts. 

They can be heard when they play music without Julie. This is also unclear as to why, working theory is “Our music is just so awesome it transcends deaths!” – Luke Patterson.

Mr Willie Skateboard was quick to point out it’s “weird” and “ghosts aren’t supposed to be seen by lifers.”

4. Touching

Our ghosts can now touch Julie. The biggest change in their afterlife. 

Still no explanation for it. Experiments are ongoing (see exhibit b) 

Have witnessed Julie hugging the air many times only for Alex or Willie to appear. Same with hand holding. (see exhibit c for dads reaction) 

5. Magic

Some ghosts have powers and abilities. 

Willie* can control different types of technology. Appears to work best with cars. This we believe correlates with who a ghost dies. 

In our expedition to test his skills he skipped through 15 different radio stations of Tia’s car until he found one playing despacito. Test was a success. Tia does think her car is haunted now however.

6. ???

There was a dark room. 

All other ghosts interviewed had never heard of it before. 

All our ghosts agreed it was weird and creepy. 

We are choosing to pretend it didn’t happen. 

Working theory: a hole in time that they fell through. Must find a way to test.

7. Teleporting

part 1)

Ghosts can teleport wherever they want in the world. 

Only the most powerful can teleport a lifer with them (will keep attempting)

part b) 

Our ghosts can pinpoint Julie’s exact location wherever she may be in the world. 

Will be helpful if she is ever kidnapped, Julie however wishes they would stop using said power to find her in gym class.

“I already have find my friend activated” – Flynn had to say on the matter. 

part c) 

Julie can summon the boys to her if she concentrates hard enough. Came in handy when an evil magician tried to kidnap them.

Also possibly how they escaped the dark room, no way to prove or deny this as dad won’t let me eat a bad hotdog to become a ghost.

Working theory: magic of music and family 

See Exhibit d 

See Exhibit e  

#julie and the phantoms #julie molina #luke patterson #alex mercer #reggie peters #carlos molina #willie jatp #willie #ray molina #jatp #this is...this is really something that i made huh #why did i do this #i just. okay #you gotta read the power point as if carlos and reggie are presenting it btw #and reggie is wearing a sheet for the aesthetic

[propertyofwicked]

Your a-z s are so good!! Omg you’re so talented☺️ could you possibly do one for George? We would all love that💕

thank you anons for these requests. im quite busy atm so im sorry if other requests take a while and thank you for being patient with me.

a-z of dating george mackay

a - argue

neither you or george are shouters, instead you go very quiet when something goes wrong or upsets either one of you. george would huff and mumble, until one of you grew the balls to talk through the issue. you’d be sat on the sofa and he’d just come and sit facing you, taking your hands in his and press his lips to them softly. this was his way of saying he was ready to talk.

b - body (his favourite body part of yours)

george loves your lips and your cheeks. he loves watching you talk, how your mouth moves and he loves how effortlessly your voice tumbles out. he loves how your smile grows when you laugh, small dimples forming in your cheeks - it was enough to make him smile with you. he loves to kiss your lips and your cheeks. whether it was a quick peck here and there or when he’d push you up against a wall and kiss you till you couldn’t breathe. he loved to kiss your lips till they went redder and more plump. 

c - care (caring for each other when you’re sick)

when george is ill, he pulls you back into bed anytime you get up, claiming he’s cold and needs your body warmth. whilst you’d comply, you also had stuff you needed to get on with. so you’d sit next to his sleeping figure, trying to quietly type on your laptop or write into your notebook. when you’re ill, george waits on you all day. he’d constantly ask if you needed a drink or food and if you’re being sick, he’ll follow you to the bathroom and hold your hair back. he’d gently rub small circles into your back and carry you back to your bed, when you were too weak to walk alone.

d - dates (what do you guys do?)

being an actor, george loves to take you to the cinema to watch new films that he’d seen about, or heard about at awards nights. sometimes, you’d go and see films that his friends or previous co-workers were in. you’d share popcorn and he’d let you rest your head on his shoulder whilst his arm was wrapped around your shoulders. afterwards, you’d maybe go out for dinner or to a coffee shop, and he’d love to have a discussion with you about the film, what you liked and didn’t, the directing, filming, acting. by the end of the evening, the entire film would’ve been deeply analysed by the two of you and you’d have it no other way.

e - engagements (how he proposed) 

he’d take you out to dinner, to celebrate your birthday or anniversary, and after the meal, you’d take a walk back to your flat or the car. but, then he’d take a diversion and say he just wanted to show you something. next thing you know, you’re standing on the rooftop of the cafe you met, staring up at the stars. whilst you were looking away, he’d get down on his knee and then cough slightly to gain your attention. he had planned a small little speech, which went the window the moment you turned around. he tells you how much he loves you, what he loves about you, what he sees in the future for you two, and you can’t help but say yes. 

f - friends and family (do they like you/him?)

george’s family were initially weary of your relationship. not because they didn’t like you, but because of how long george spent away from home working. they feared you would both end up ending it soon because you couldn’t cope. as soon as they met you, however, they saw how relaxed george was - different to his typically stressed exterior. when he was away, his mum invited you round for dinner, and his sister was similar in age, so you had a lot in common.

your family feared he would be a distraction from your studies, but once they saw your relationship thriving, they had no fears. your dad liked that he was politically aware and into football, whilst your mum liked the fact he was active in feminism (#pussypower)

g - gifts

when george went away for filming, he’d bring you home stuff. they could be really simple, such as local delicacies or fridge magnets. something simple, that was a small reminder of him every time you opened the fridge. 

h - how you met

you met in a cafe. you were sat in the corner, typing away at a script you were working on, nothing official just something that kept you occupied. he happened to take the table next to you and notice you furiously typing away your ideas, jotting down notes in the book next to you. he stood up and walked over to you. 

“um, hi. i’m george.”

“hi?”

he told you about him being an actor, asked what you were working on and then asked to read. he complimented your work, and you gave him your number to “keep him updated and ask for advice”. he made a habit of going back to the cafe every day that he could, just to see you. he’d take a seat opposite you and didn’t mind when the two of you sat in silence. 

i - intimacy (how often are yall getting down)

oh that man may seem innocent, but he will take you any time, any where. when he came home, the first thing he’d do is take you to your bedroom. he’d go slow savouring the moment - similar to how he would be the night before he had to leave. and the morning. and maybe before he got in the taxi. and then maybe he’d send you some suggestive texts. he lead you to toilets at awards shows for a quickie, or just lay you down on the sofa and go to town. 

j - jealousy

when you come to set, some of his male co workers got a little bit close. when you were gone, they’d make jokes to george - he laugh outwardly but inside he was seething. it was easy to feel jealous of people you interacted with when he was away, much as it was for you to be of him working with loads of people, that his character was physically intimate with. however, it didn’t take much for either of you to remind the other of your love ;)

k - kinks

idk if this is a kink but hickies. george loves to litter your neck, chest, stomach and inner thighs with small bruises. he loves seeing a quick flash of the marks whenever your shirt rides up, or your towel exposes a few. he very much loves to mark his territory, as much as likes to see marks you’ve left on him. 

l - long distance

a lot of your relationship had been spent long distance, with him working away for 1917 and then the history of the ned kelly gang. every night, you facetimed, till one of you fell asleep, but you’d mostly just do your usual evening routine, just hundreds of miles apart. you’d cook your dinner at the same time, shower, and then sleep. it felt as if you were together, just through a screen. you were obviously limited to what you could do but there was many things you could do to replace what was physically missing. it didn’t take a massive toll on your relationship, but george found it really hard to see you struggling and knowing he couldn’t be there to help - and vice versa. 

m - moving in

george asked you to move in, over facetime, whilst he was away filming 1917. he said he wanted to come home to your face every evening, and his flat wouldn’t feel like home without you there. his flat was closer to your uni/work place as it was, so even though you were quite early on into your relationship, it was ideal. whilst he was away, you kept the flat in order every time george came home, he damn near welled up at the thought of you being there waiting for him, in difference to the usual cold, empty flat. 

n - nights out 

being a student, you went out a lot with your friends. often when george was away, so he’d be delighted to wake up to barely legible texts from you. when he was home, however, the two of you found yourself going to a local pub with dean and some of your other friends and taking part in the pub quiz or darts. sometimes you’d just watch the game that was on.

o - open with each other

initially, you both found it hard to talk to each other, but as all good people do, he had a catharsis. he broke down, relaying all his stresses onto you, to which you comforted him and talked him through it. he can sense when your bottling it up, and even though you’re not massively open with him naturally, he knows when to ask you to talk, and you do, knowing he will be there to support you.

p - pda

george isn’t a massive fan of pda, but he would hold your hand when you walk through town, and when you accompanied him to award shows, his hand would be firmly stationed on your lower back, his fingers rubbing small circles. he’d press soft, small pecks onto your cheek, or your forehead or sometimes, just the simplest act of raising your hand and kissing your knuckles softly would be enough to comfort you. 

q - questions (what you talk about late at night?)

you talk about your day usually. it’ll start of as being, “i cant sleep” which will then turn into either one of you starting to talk about something funny that happened or just an overview of how your day went. this would go on until you managed to fall asleep, you soft breathing lulling george into his own sleep.

r - reproduction (do you want kids?)

george wants kids, in fact he definitely has notes on his phone of baby names that he wants to bring up with you. however, he respects your decisions and only wants what you want. he lives by “her body, her decision” but it is something he will ask you one night, casually. to which you respond however you feel.

s - surprising (what surprised you about him)

he loves to dance. if a song is playing in the background or on the radio, he’ll stand up and dance. in the kitchen, he’ll take a wooden spoon and sing into it. then take your hand and twirl you around. he loves to slow dance with you under the stars and he loves to rock out with you, with air guitars and all.

t - together (what you do together)

as said before, you watch a lot of films and programmes together. you also write a lot together, carpooling ideas into scripts or stories. his imagination is phenomenal. sometimes, you’d go on road trips, and he’d have control of the aux. he’d play songs to you, to see if you knew them, and he’d serenade you with ABBA non stop. anything you did was made 10x better when you did it together.

u - under the influence (drunk vibes)

drunk george is the softest man alive. he just wants to cuddle and tell you how madly in love he is with you. he’d press kisses all over your face and then pull you in close, to squeeze you tightly. when you’re drunk he loves to watch you get up to your antics, only intervening when it got dangerous or illegal. drunk together was a whole other force to be reckoned with. you���d both be doing stupid stuff until someone else had to step in. drunk you and sober you were both madly in love with george, just sober you was more willing to show absolutely everyone.

v - vacations

george definitely takes you to an island somewhere, like malta. or maybe he’d take you to a greek island. you’d spend the entire time exploring the city or the local markets, soaking up the local atmosphere and the sun. he’d defo get all artsy, taking photos of you from behind as you walked, the sun shining down on you angelically. 

w - wedding

the cutest wedding ever. no cap. outside, in summer. you’d chosen a outside area, like a greenhouse kinda room, surrounded by the most beautiful flowers. the reception was afternoon tea in a little marquee. the next day, you had a family meal, where your two families came together to celebrate the two of you.

x - xray (when he’s hurt)

let’s say he injured himself on the set of 1917. a piece of rubble in the bunker scene fell and trapped on his arm, cutting it wide open. whilst it didn’t put him completely out of working, it did require him to go to hospital for stitches. it happened that you were on set on these days so accompanied the whole way. you held his hand as the nurse gave him stitches, and though he didn’t look scared of the needle, you could tell he was slightly panicking at the size. you walked with him back to the trailer where dean sat waiting, laughing slightly has a pale george sauntered up to him, you pulled into his side.

y - you (a random headcanon) 

imagine that you both innocently take a shower together. “saving water” or something like that. george would spend his time massaging shampoo in your scalp and then brushing his fingers through it as the water washed it out. he’d turn around and you lather him in soap, your hands rubbing his shoulders, tense from a week of working. it wasn’t much but it was the little things that allowed the two of you to wind down at the end of a busy week.

z - zzzzzzzzzzzz’s (sleeping routine)

whilst you wouldn’t admit to being tired, george would watch you as you sat next to him, your eyelids falling heavy and your blinks getting longer and longer. he’d stand up himself, then hold out his hand for you to take. you’d follow him up the stairs and whilst he was brushing his teeth, you’d change into your pyjamas and then you’d swap. as you wander back into the room, george would hold out his arms for you to climb into, your head burying into the crook of his neck. nights like this, it was easier to fall asleep quickly.

#1917 #george mackay #george mackay imagine #george mackay x reader #will schofield #will schofield x reader #will schofield imagine #dean charles chapman #dean charles chapman smut #dean charles chapman imagine #dean charles chapman x reader #tom blake #tom blake x reader #tom blake imagine #Sam Mendes #the history of the ned kelly gang

[voidselfshipp]

Future Days (Of You And Me)

Tw: injury mention,blood mention, food mention

Jerico x Joel

Ok to rb

Heavy steps make their way to a cabin,the snow its drowning any sort of noise,the clouds are grey, darkening as the sun sets further into the horizon,the wind blew mercilessly, the pine trees shook at mother nature Will.

Jerico dragged herself to an old cabin,the big windowpanes are shadowed and covered by the mist And the residual smoke.

A chimney, just snuffed out, heavy, heavy boots left ashen marks on the old oak floorboards.

Still, whoever that was they were gone, with the resting embers in the chimney, a Fire came to life,jeri rubbed her hands togheter trying to warm herself, as the Fire slowly came more and more to life.

Its dark outside, at this hour her mind gets the best of her, if it wasnt because of her pets.

Missy growls, the Manchester terrier stands up, pointing at the basement.

Jer tries to dismiss her but the dog insists running to the door,she grabbed her rifle and Ran behind her dog.

She found her licking the face of a Man, heavily wounded.

Jerico looked for any scratches,bitemarks,anything that could point to an infection.

Nothing.

The Man,whoever he was, was breathing heavily, his lungs werent working, and the injure on the left side of his temples was bad, very bad.

She carried him upstairs, leaving him near the Fire.

His life force was slipping through her fingers, she could feel it,Like water down a stream.

She got to work quickly, cleaning and tending the wound as much as she could.

The person that left probably had unfinished bussines with this Man.

She did the best with what she had, and so she scavenged for supplies.

Her hand couldnt help but wonder to the Mans face,brushing a strand of hair away from his face, she smiled softly and warmly, oh he was very handsome.

His pulse was very weak, his breaths heavy and shortened.

The chances of him surviving were Slim to none.

Yet she grabbed a can of food and cooked it, sitting him up and trying to hand feed him.

He could chew at least.

When he had eaten enough, she let him sleep on her sleeping bag.

She then Ate what was left with missy, and sat besides him, with her rifle in hand patrolling the área.

The night went on with false alarms, so when the smoky clouds cleared she packed up shop and carried the Man on her sled Back to her home.

A small cottage hidden in a Valley between two big mountains.

Yet a green garden grew, food, fruits and even a bit of livestock grew and lived in there.

She left him rest on her salvaged couch, changing the bandages.

Feeding the cows she then sat on the porch, missy curled up besides her.

From there you could see all the forest, the climb there was too much for an infected to climb up to, so it was her little piece of heaven, its early morning, the sun still rising over the mantle saying goodbye to the night and stars.

The wind started to pick up from a slight breeze to a strong wind.

She entered the house, starting a Fire in the chimney.

She sat besides the Man, guitar in her hand, the dog at her feet.

--If I ever were to lose you--she sang--

I'd surely lose myself

Everything I have found dear

I've not found by myself

Try and sometimes you'll succeed

To make this man of me

All my stolen missing parts

I've no need for anymore

I believe

And I believe 'cause I can see

Our future days

Days of you and me....--jerico had to stop as the Man reacted to that song, sluggishly trashing around.

That song seemed to mean something to him.

So she sat there lost in her own thoughts, until lunchtime arrived,unbeknownst to her as her mind wandered off into dreamland.

She made food then, a warm stew for that windy windy day.

She served three plates.

One for the misterious handsome Man, anotherone for her,and of course one for missy.

She again tried to feed him, and I say tried because the Man kept on moving away like a child, maybe he was getting some of his consciousness back.

When she was going to drop the towel an idea popped in her mind, you could almost see the lightbulb turning on in her brain.

--Back when I was feeling broken

I focused on a prayer

You came deep as any ocean

Did something out there hear?

All the complexities and games

No one wins, but somehow, they're still played

All the missing crooked hearts

They may die, but in us they live on

I believe

And I believe 'cause I can see

Our future days

Days of you and me...--And as she sang the Man seemed to be more calm as he ate, or well, munched.

She let him rest as she Walked upstairs to her room,or well art room.

Salvaged pencils,errasers and brushes, some of her best artworks were hanged all around her.

Her day ended doing the thing she liked the most.

Creating.

Eventually,jerico started using the Man as a model,it gave her a challenge, try and draw him as close as himself as she could.

Shed keep a Journal, were she kept track of his progress.

The Man eventually came to his senses,it took some weeks until he introduced himself.

He couldnt walk, or move from that couch,he could still bathe( with the help of jeri to at least take him to the bathroom)eat,and sleep.

But that was about it.

One particular morning jeri was eating breakfast on her porch admiring the sunrise, the dark mantle of the night, turning wine red as the Oranges and yellows announced and aclaimed the arriving of the sun.

Her pet curled up by her side.

Though a particular tune seems to distract her, a man,singing.

--All the promises at sundown

I've meant them like the rest

All the demons used to come 'round

I'm grateful now they've left

So persistent in my ways

Hey angel, I am here to stay

No resistance, no alarms

Please, this is just too good to be gone

I believe

And I believe 'cause I can see

Our future days

Days of you and me

You and me

Days of you and me--by the time he was done singing jer had Walked back into the livingroom

-- thought you couldnt get up?--She sat besides him.

--well-- the Man said leaving the guitar besides him-- I couldnt help myself but to play, I missed the sound of it

A warm smile appeared on jericos face as she looked away -- howd you slept?

--havent had a goodnights sleep in a while..-- he answered.

--hm..--she grunted in agreement--i should...I should go and pick up some of the veggies on the garden...you can still play my guitar though...I dont mind

She stood up,as the Man stummed the chords.

--Joel

--what?--jeri who has walking to The door turned on her heel.

--My names Joel-- he said.

--nice to meet you Joel-- better late than never,she guessed.

After picking up the best of the vegetables she Walked in back to the kitchen, she could see that Joel was still playing, entretained by the guitar.

She tapped her foot along the way as she started to prepare lunch.

The Man however took his chances and explored the house.

Stairs were still tricky, but somehow he found his way into her art room.

--What.. the hell?--he asked to himself picking up one of the portraits she had done of him, and her Journal right Next to it.

One of the last entries had been written maybe a couple of days ago.

"The misterious Man is still reluctant to introduce himself, I do get it, in this world trusting is hard.

Yet I cant shake off this feeling whenever our gazes meet.

Hes pretty funny in his own Way,when he isnt resting I find him quite charming.

This is the last drawing I made of him, I wish I could find the courage to show it to him"

Joels factions soften chuckling at the fact that the woman that saved him was a huge softie.

--Joel!foods ready!

He put the drawing down and went downstairs to eat.

They sat across from eachother, he was kind enough to help her set the table.

They quietly chatter, Jerico asked him about exterior things of himself, she knew not to poke around in things she shouldnt,and Joel didnt say more than what he should.

Yet the conversation had a warm undertone that left the both of them with a smile on their faces.

Joel took a nap,and she locked herself up in her art room to try and organize her running thoughts and feelings.

He didnt trust anyone easily, nor did he let anyone became close, emotionally or physically.

But that same night the rattle of the Windows were too much,he knew he was safe and yet he couldnt help but Grab his blanket and go up jericos room to slip into bed with her.

--Hey.. jerico...can I.. can I stay the night here?

He felt like a kid again, but a happy feeling overcame Jim when she said Yes.

His back was against hers, he snuggled closer to himself.

Yet, the panicked sensation wouldnt go away.

So he did the best Next thing and hugged jeri.

--Watcha doing Joel?--Her tone was playfull, but he looked away nonetheless, and yet she snuggled closer--relax Man, just joking

He chuckled looking away-- the last time I trusted someone this much I...uh..

He heard her sigh--the scar?

--yeah the scar

--If you dont mind me asking.. what happened?

Joel sighed heavily, pulling her closer.

--i saved a chick,and ran with her to safety, turns out she had some unfinished bussiness with me...and so here we are ...

Jer Turned around hesitantly cupping her cheek,he leans in her touch hugging her waist--im sorry you had to go through that...

--on the bright side I wouldnt have met you..

Jeri chuckled and he kissed her.

Kissing back she caressed his hair, they spent the night cuddling away,singing togheter the song that brought them closer.

#tw//injury mention #tw:injury mention #tw//food #tw//blood mention #tw:blood mention #f/o fic #joel

[starryshawn]

sugar, sugar

1.8k, 7 min read.

summary: not famous!shawn fluff. inspired by the early teasers for the senorita music video. shawn visits a diner and meets a waitress who might just bring him out of his shell.

warnings: mentions of anxiety

---

the first time he meets her, it’s a sad day. he doesn’t remember where he was headed off to, doesn’t remember what he was in such a rush for. what he does remember is bouncing his left leg while he reads the menu at the bar of a diner, the closest building when the sky decided to open fire on his motorcycle. he remembers a voice with the texture of linen: strong, breathable.

“what can i get for you today, handsome?”

he looks up. “coffee, please.”

“any cream, sugar?”

“no, thank you.” he watches the waitress go to the back. pretty kitschy place to make their staff wear those old-timey uniforms, he thinks.

he’s rubbing his pointer and middle fingers against his thumb when she comes back with the coffee as promised, but with an additional gift.

“oh, thank you, but i didn’t need the sugar, miss,” he says before she can turn away.

“you looked like you needed a little something sweet.”

and maybe it’s the wisp of hair caught in her lashes, the way she leans her elbows on the table, or that her eyes are the darkest he’s ever seen, but he’s stunned. yes, the clouds fell hard from their place in the sky today, but she is the rainbow that follows.

 ---

the second time he meets her, it’s the dead of night. he’s on one of those late walks he takes when trying to come up with new lyrics. to many, the humidity of long beach in the summer is unbearable. to him, however, the heavy air grounds him when his thoughts pull him every which way.

he doesn’t know how long he’s been walking for. there’s a dull ache in his sneakers and the streetlights’ warm glow has been replaced with bright purple neon. the diner. it’s still open.

he pushes the door open. the predictable chime of the bell startles him in the quiet of the empty space.

to his surprise, she’s still behind the counter, wiping down the bar.

“we’re closing soon, but sit down, i’ll get you a coffee.” she goes back to the kitchen without looking up at him. he can hear the polite frustration lacing her words, the taste like sour candy.

he follows her orders. when she comes out, lukewarm coffee in hand, she pauses. “oh, it’s handsome from earlier!”

he can only chuckle halfheartedly in response. what is he doing here, again?

she places the coffee in front of him and leans her palms onto the counter. “i’m sorry for how i snapped,” she says, “it’s my second shift today and it’s just been a busy one. this has been the most quiet i’ve gotten in weeks.”

he cradles the ceramic mug. “no need to apologize, you look exhausted.”

“great, what every girl wants to hear.”

“oh! oh no, that’s not what i meant to– i wanted to say that you must be exhausted, but you don’t look it at all! you look beau–”

“relax!” she says between laughs. “i was joking. must have been a stressful day for you, too, huh? what brings you back at this hour?”

his fingers rub together on top of the counter. “i, uh, coffee.”

she looks down at his hand before smirking to herself. “you know what i like to do while i close down when it’s empty like this?” he hums an affirmative. “use your words, handsome. you’ve got a nice voice.”

“oh, thanks!– what do you do when you close down?” he manages just barely, cheeks rosy. damn, he really wishes he had a tan in moments like this.

she walks out from behind the bar and past his seat, her low-heeled shoes clicking against the ceramic tiles. he swivels around in his seat to watch what she’s up to.

she stops in front of the old-school jukebox next to the soda machine. her fingers tap against the woody frame. after fishing through her apron pocket for a few seconds, she pulls out a quarter– no, a quarter-sized coin. “come here,” she orders.

he obeys. upon closer inspection, it seems she’s holding up a chuck e. cheese token.

laughing, he asks, “where in the world did you dig that up from?”

“my little nephew owes me a favor and has one hell of a piggy bank,” she says. “okay, so you gotta push the coin in just enough that the sensor picks up on it, and the trick is to hold that little sucker tight– here, take my place.”

he pinches the coin where she gestures and tries to ignore the lightness in his stomach when their fingers brush.

“then you gotta punch in your song of choice. there’s only one correct answer here, and it’s B7.” after pressing the play button, she takes back the coin and returns it to its home in her pocket. “because it’s an old 50’s piece of junk, it doesn’t know it’s been bamboozled.” the music starts up with a fifteen second delay.

well, since my baby left me

she juts out her pelvis to the fast guitar strum that follows, pausing for dramatic effect while elvis croons.

well, i found a new place to dwell

her hair shakes loose from her bun. he notes that it smells like maple syrup.

well, it’s down at the end of lonely street at heartbreak hotel

she sways away from the jukebox, hips moving in circles that leave him dizzy. he doesn’t quite catch when she picks up the washcloth and starts wiping down the booth tables. her knees bend one-by-one to the steady beat of the bass.

“i could use a little help here,” she says fully aware that his gaze lagged in reaching hers.

he catches the washcloth she tosses his way and begins to work on the table next to her.

“where’s the energy, handsome? it’s the king! wipe down that table like you some senorita stomped all over your heart! put some soul into it!” she pauses. “and a little elbow wouldn’t hurt either.”

“what, like this?” he mimics her fast hip movements.

“oh my god, yes, exactly like that,” she says between laughs.

---

it takes the two twenty minutes and four more elvis classics to plop down in one of the booths, exhausted. the place seemed to sparkle right down to the cheap red pleather of their seat.

“whoo! that was a major workout,” he whoops, lazily hanging his left arm around the back of her side of the seat.

she lifts her chin toward him. “yeah, but it was fun, wasn’t it?”

“definitely. you said you do this every night?”

“mmm, only when nobody’s around.”

“well, i’m here and you went hard.” a laugh ghosts across his face.

she shifts towards him slightly. “yeah, i guess you’re different somehow. i can’t put my finger on it.”

their eyes meet for a moment. he doesn’t know what to do. suddenly he’s back in his apartment, gasping for air, pulling on his shirt, grasping for a lyric, an idea, anything resembling a thought–

she leans her elbow on the table and her face in her palm. “so what really brought you here tonight?” she asks. she’s not whispering, but it’s like she’s telling him a secret.

and he can breathe again. “truthfully, i don’t know.”

at her pointed look, he continues. “i guess you could call me a musician of sorts? i don’t know–”

“you don’t know if you’re a musician?”

“uh.”

“do you make music?”

“i like to sing. i write songs sometimes, but i don’t really perform anywhere.”

“you sing and write songs? you’re a musician. besides, i think you just gave a hell of a performance with that mop,” she says.

he chuckles. “um, okay. thanks?”

she nods, gesturing for him to continue.

“right, so i was working on a new song but nothing was working out. like, i didn’t know what lyrics would capture what i was feeling– i didn’t even know what i was feeling and… i get angry at myself when i’m blocked. so angry that it feels like im drowning in my own head.

“when that happens, i usually go outside for a walk. it… calms me down? gets me out of my head, at least. i walk until my sneakers give out.” he glances away. “tonight they brought me here. i don’t know how it happened. one second i was at my desk, the next outside the diner.”

“and then i put you to work.” she smiles softly.

he scoffs with mirth. “yes you did.”

“anyway, why don’t you try a change of space? or even time?”

“like the library?” he tilts his head, looking at her once again.

“or the park at, say, five a.m. i don’t know, just somewhere that not a dinky little desk.”

“hey, it’s not dinky.”

she laughs. “whatever, just try it out and let me know how it goes.”

she reaches across his side of the table. their faces are so close, she’s smiling, and oh god, there’s the scent of maple again. his eyelids flutter closed. he leans in ever so slightly, and then there’s a thwip.

she pulls a brown napkin from the dispenser and resumes her normal upright position. she scribbles something down on it, then folds and stuffs it in his front shirt pocket before tapping his chest.

“there. a souvenir.” she lingers a second longer. he feels the electricity emanating from her hand, his nerves lit up like live wires.

“i’m sorry to say this, but,” she says, removing her hand to check her watch, “it’s really late and i got the early shift tomorrow. i gotta kick you out.”

he looks at the clock. almost 1:30. “oh, wow, i didn’t even realize. i’ll be on my way then.” he wishes he could bring her hand back to his chest. he wishes he could feel those same goosebumps one more time before leaving.

they scoot out of the booth and stand awkwardly for a beat before he turns to leave. before he opens the door, he hears, “hey, didn’t you walk here? let me give you a ride.”

“no, no, i don’t want to be a bother. besides, showing a stranger where i live?” he raises an eyebrow.

“i’d like to think i’m not a complete stranger,” she says, walking toward him.

“i don’t even know your name.”

she’s right in front of him. “i don’t know yours either, handsome.”

“oh, my bad, it’s sh–”

she shushes him, placing a finger on his lips. “we’ll find out soon enough.”

he watches her wordlessly as she goes to switch off all the diner lights, leaving them in the dark, save for the purple of the neon “open” sign.

“let’s get going.” she turns the sign off on her way out the door.

 he watches her drive away from the front steps of his apartment building. what a day, what a night. he brings his right hand to his chest to try to calm the beating of his heart. there’s a bump.

the napkin, he recalls. he pulls it out, unfolds it, and sighs wistfully to himself.

it’s a number, signed senorita.

---

author’s note: i wrote this before the music video came out and honestly, i’m pretty impressed that i got a few things right about it! this is my first shawn fic, and i would love to hear your feedback/criticisms! i’m also new to shawnblr so feel free to message me-- i’d love to make some new friends! :)

#shawn mendes fanfiction #shawn mendes au #shawn mendes fluff #shawn mendes blurbs #shawn mendes #senorita #senorita fanfiction

[breathinginthevapor]

A heart-breaking mess

Summary: You and Luke are former high school sweethearts, but haven’t talked in years. You suddenly run into each other at a bar and might not be completely done with each other.

A/N: Well, no one (literally no one, it got six likes i think) read my last one shot even though the one before that got over 300 so yeah, let’s see how this goes haha. Please please please leave feedback if you like it (and also if you don’t just don’t be too mean im fragile haha) As for warnings, there’s meantions and brief descriptions of sex, and alcohol is also in the picture. Also, if anyone would like a second part, I’d totally be up for that x

T/W: drinking, slight nsfw

Masterlist

I don’t own the picture, it’s from Luke’s instagram

He has changed so much, and he’s not at all the boy you knew all those years ago. But his eyes are the same that once looked at you with admiration and love, and their shade is the same icy blue as the ones who made your teenage heart flutter. His lips are the same as the ones who calmed you down on dark nights, and his hands still the ones that held yours when you walked through the halls of your local high school.

But the confidence radiating from his body is new, as well as the flirting look in his eyes is one you haven’t seen before. It’s a strange coincidence he is frequenting the same bar as you tonight, and even though you’re both different persons than the children who believed their love could last forever, it brings back all those memories you spent so much time on forgetting.  

If you had known he was back in town, you would have stayed indoors watching Netflix instead of visiting the bar you know his friends like, but how could you? It’s not easy when he’s traveling the world; in Asia the first day and then home the next.  

It may seem weird that even now, years after your breakup, you still fear meeting him, but he was your first love, and you’ve learned that first loves always will have a special place in people’s heart, including yours.  

He’s dancing with a girl you don’t know, and she’s just another thing that tells you how different he is. The Luke you knew wouldn’t even have offered her and her short dress a second glance, too caught up in a funny story his friends told and besides never seeing the point in one night stands, but now his hands are around her waist and his lips on her neck.

She turns around and places her hands in his thick curls. You want to puke, perhaps because it isn’t until now you realize that the Luke who’ll always be a part of you is gone from the surface and only lives in your memory. The tiniest bit of hope that has been hidden inside you for the past years shatters. The Luke who promised you forever under a sky full of stars, the Luke who ate McDonald’s with you on prom night in your fancy clothes and the Luke who wrote songs about you and showed them with trembling hands on his guitar doesn’t exist anymore and never will again.  

You swallow down the rest of your drink and get up from the lousy bar chair. You’re not in the mood for neither partying nor drinking anymore, no, you just want to go home and sleep and maybe throw out some old pictures of the boy who had promised to come back to you but never did.  

However, today isn’t your lucky day. When you stand up, you manage to take down the glass with you, and just as it hits the floor, the music stops and everyone turns towards you, including him. You see it in his eyes: the recognition, how he at first wonders why you look so familiar and then how it suddenly hits him who you are.

It’s only about three seconds before another song is played and everybody continues what they were doing before your little accident, but not him. You watch him excuse himself from the girl who’s clearly very disappointed about missing out on a night with the Rockstar, but he doesn’t seem to care, and while he makes his way to you, his eyes are fixated on yours like you’re some song he knew and loved once but now struggle to remember the words of.  

“Y/N.”

“Luke.”

You both greet each other with emotionless voices, and it scares you how comfortable he looks while you’re busy scanning the room for an exit. But even now, the way he says your name sends chill through your body, and you wonder how you have been able to go on so long without hearing him say it.  

It’s weird: he’s still able to give you the sparks, to fill your stomach with butterflies, but at the same time you never want to see him again. Never want to hear his voice again, never want to feel the way that only he can make you.

“It’s been a long time, huh? What, a year, two years?”

It hurts that he doesn’t remember, but you remind yourself that it’s different for him. He doesn’t have to buy groceries at the same place you bought hot wings together when you were hangover, chat with your mom every time he sees her on the street (which is surprisingly often considering how big of a city Sydney is), hear her talk about how good you’re doing or walk past your house every time he’s on his way to work.  

“Almost three,” you correct, fighting to keep the careless expression on your face.

You just hope he can’t read you anymore. You are, after all, not the open book you used to be.  

“Really? Wow, time just flies when you’re living on the road,” he answers, a small smile on his lips, clearly thinking back on some tour memories. “Are you in college now? Almost done or what?”

You’re not really in the mood for small talk, and you just want to run away and never ever think about the boy who broke your heart again, but unfortunately, it feels like your feet are glued to the ground which means you have no choice but to stay.

“Yeah, I’ll be a fully educated teacher in two years. Took a year off to work.”

You can’t count how many times you’ve said those words to strangers or acquaintances, but it feels weird that Luke’s one of them now when he used to be the one who knew you better than anyone else.

Sometimes, you’d wonder if he actually knew you better than you knew yourself. It certainly seemed that way when he sent some of your writing to a competition where the first prize was a course with a professional writer. You only found out what he had done when you received an email that said you had won. Needless to say, you were over the moon for having someone so sweet and considerate in your life.

“Teaching? I thought you wanted to be a writer?” He remembers. Remembers the dreams you had when you were younger and believed everything was possible, when you still believed that dreams come true.

News flash, they don’t.

"Well, we can't all live our teenage dreams as grown-ups," you say before thinking, sounding so bitter that you don't even like yourself. Luke has worked hard for everything he's achieved, and he has definitely deserved it.

However, there's still a small part of you that finds it unfair that he's doing everything he's ever wanted while swimming in money and luxury while you're only just able to pay rent because you did nothing but work for a whole year.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that. I'm just tired, school's really been taking a toll on me the last couple of months.”

"I understand," he affirms, raising his hand to show that you’re forgiven. "I was rooting for you, though."

You flash a smile at him, and then the two of you stand in an awkward silence you’ve never experienced with him before. You used to talk the whole night, and even when the silence took over, it felt nice and calm and comforting.

He scratches his neck, looking down at his feet. Then he takes a deep breath that visibly expands his chest and fixes his blue orbs on yours.

“Do you wanna dance?”

You open your mouth to decline his offer, but then you close it again and just nod. You can’t explain why, but you can’t get yourself to say no. Not when you know this might be the last time you see him.

He grabs your hand and pulls you through the crowd, bodies pressing against you from every side but the feeling of Luke’s hand in yours making you feel safe.

He stops when he’s found a spot with a little amount of space for the two of you, and you seriously regret your decision when you stand there facing each other and not knowing what to do.

But then he grabs your other hand and swirls you around while pulling you closer, so your back is pressed against his chest. He places your own hands on your hips, his still covering them.

You immediatly lose yourself in the music and the way his body perfectly melds into yours, and you grow braver for every minute. You press your ass against his crotch and let your fingertips wander up to his neck, pulling at the short curls. He groans and grips your hips even tighter, knuckles turning white. Then you turn around and slowly lean in, barely letting your lips meet before pulling away again.

“Such a tease,” he mutters, hands slipping down to squeeze your ass. You lean in once more and this time, there’s no holding back.

He parts your lips with his tongue and then explores your mouth, grazing your teeth and biting your lip.

When a stranger bumps into you, breaking the kiss, he whispers in your ear, “Wanna do this somewhere else, babe?”

You simply nod, feeling your veins boiling with desire.

This time, he leads you to the bathroom for disabled and pushes you up against the door while locking it with the hand that isn’t caressing your hardening nipple through your dress.

“Jump,” he commands, and you secure your legs behind his back while he carries you to the sink, placing you on the brink of it. His lips suck on your neck, collarbone and then, after removing your dress, your breast too, surely leaving marks.

The sex is nothing like when you were together, before he left. He’s much more rough and daring, whispering things in your ear that would make his younger self blush, and he has to cover your mouth to prevent you from making too much noise.

But he’s still considerate enough to make sure to finish you both, and then he stays inside you for a few seconds before pulling out and grabbing your clothing from the floor.

He throws your dress, bra and panties at you and then pulls his boxer shorts on and buttons up his shirt.

You slide down the sink, trying to catch your breath and laughing at his struggle with putting on the tight skinny jeans.

“I can’t believe you still wear those,” you begin, raising your eyebrows, “I remember you said they made you look ‘punk rock’.”

He chuckles, finally succeeding in his attempt at pulling up the black jeans.

“Well, they look good with almost everything and you gotta admit I do look more tough with these on than my old pizza pajamas pants,” he responds and winks at you, making you giggle once more.

“I actually have those in my drawer back home. They may not be trendy or ‘punk rock’, but I swear to God they are the comfiest piece of clothing ever,” you admit and then realize how weird it must sound that an ex has your pajamas laying around after three years of being broken up. “Wow, that sounded creepier than I intended.”

He smiles reassuringly at you, “no worries, Y/N. I still wear that necklace you gave me with the fake shark tooth sometimes as well, so we’re even.” You mirror his grin, remembering when you bought him the necklace. It was when he first went to London, and you wanted to gift him something to remind him of home. You wandered through Sydney all day, not finding anything worth paying for before stumbling upon the fake shark tooth in one of the tourist shops down by the harbor. You knew Luke would find it funny (and perhaps just a little cool too) and you don’t think you’ll ever be able to forget how thankful he looked when you gave it to him.

You were joining his family visiting him in London, and upon your leave, you had offered him the gift and he immediately got the idea behind, slipping the necklace over his head and pressing a sweet kiss to your lips, whispering “I love you so much,” when you pulled apart.

Luke clears his throat and shakes you from your thoughts. You can’t remove the smile from your lips, feeling better than you have in a long time and looking forward to spending more time with Luke. There’s so much you want to hear about and so many things you want to tell him. And you’re extremely glad you went to the bar tonight.

But then Luke speaks, and every trace of happiness once again leaves your body, “Well, I should probably get going. It was nice catching up with you Y/N, feel free to message me if you’re ever in L.A and up for a round two.”

Your whole body stiffens, but he doesn’t seem to notice or perhaps he just doesn’t care as he presses a short kiss on your cheek before opening the door and leaving you alone.

You’re unable to move, too much in shock to even think comprehendible, but then someone opens the door to the bathroom and asks if you’re finished out there, and you leave, feeling like a zombie like the ones in the movies you watched with your father when you were a kid.

You stop by the bar and look down where the shattered glass still lays right beside your feet, just like the broken remains of your heart. Because he isn’t your Luke anymore, he’s just a heart-breaking mess who used to be the love of your life.

But even now, he still has the ability to shatter your heart into millions of pieces. And you hate him for it.  

#5sos #5 seconds of summer #luke hemmings #calum hood #5sos writing #michael clifford #ashton irwin #5sos one shot #5sos blurb #5sos imagine #5sos fluff #5sos angst #breakup!5sos #ex!5sos #luke hemmings fluff #luke hemmings blurb #luke hemmings writing #luke hemmings preference #luke hemmings imagine #luke hemmings one shot #luke hemmings angst #ashton irwin angst #ashton irwin writing #ashton irwin blurb #ashton irwin preference #ashton irwin one shot #ashton irwin imagine #calum hood fluff #calum hood writing #calum hood blurb

[rogsclogs]

Some Day One Day (Brian May x Reader); part 6

taglist: @brighter-thanthe-sky @im-a-sheerheartattack @fruityfreddie @discodeacygotmorerhythm @killer-queen-xo @destiel-stucky4ever-loki-queen (if you wanna be added to the tag list please message me)

previous parts can be found under the “some day one day” tag.

feedback is always welcomed and appreciated, next parts coming soon. also if you have any requests feel free to message me, I want to start working on something else too.

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When Y/N started going to class again she felt that something inside her had shifted. She struggled to call Brian by his last name, even if she knew how important it was for her to do so in order to not make anyone suspect a thing. She struggled to pay attention to whatever he was lecturing them on and focus on his words because she knew deep down that he would never call her out on that and that he was looking out for her all the time.

She just wanted to spend time with him in the intimacy of his cozy apartment and stare at his lips intently and mentally begging him to drop his books on the floor and make out with her for hours on end.

There were a few other people who had tried the test with her the first time but failed and had to retake the class, so at least she didn't feel as awful knowing others had struggled as well, but she was definitely the only one getting extra private lessons at Brian’s apartment. Or at least she hoped she was.

Not only could she feel something inside her shift, she also felt that their relationship wasn't entirely based on school anymore and it was starting to scare her, she didn't know how far she could push herself.

She felt that maybe there was a chance he could feel the same, he’d been hanging around her more than usual 

Brian had invited her to one of his band’s gigs the week before, and while she knew that him and his bandmates would be good (if they played with Brian there was no chance in the world they could be anything less than phenomenal) she was left speechless by the talent displayed by all four members of the band, especially the singer, who she thought had a legendary voice and it was absolutely unfair that he wasn’t a professional.

That night she had clapped harder than anyone else at the end of their set and she hugged Brian really tightly when he jumped off the small stage and put down his precious guitar, earning adoring looks from the other guys, who hadn't seen Brian be so affectionate with a girl in longer than they could remember and who obviously had no idea she was his student.

He was so ashamed of himself sometimes that he didn't even tell his three best friends about what was going on, he just told them she was a friend he'd met a while ago and there wasn't anything going on between them (none of his friends had believed him, they knew him way too much).

At the same time, he felt so right whenever he was around her that nothing else mattered to him in the moment, when he saw her by the side of the stage clapping for him and watching him with stars in her eyes and a huge smile plastered on her face he swore he could have died on the spot. How could something that felt so right be so wrong after all? 

That night they had almost kissed. Brian had had a few beers and Y/N was very intoxicated both by the smoke surrounding her and the drinks that he'd offered to pay, so when she leaned in he was barely able to react and step back. 

It took all the strength he could find in himself to act like he didn't know what she was doing, but he kept telling himself what he was doing was for their best and, most importantly, for Y/N’s best who had to put her education before anything else.

One day, once she was done with college for good, they could start a real relationship, it wasn't that hard after all.

They just had to keep to themselves for as long as she was still his student, but after that they'd be free.

Granted, that meant at least two and a half years of suffering, but the price was definitely worth the pain. 

And she felt it too, she felt him stare on her during lectures and she felt the electricity spark between them as he briefly touched her hand when he gave back the graded papers. She felt it all but she didn't want to be too forward and seem inappropriate, no matter how much she tried to convince herself that he felt the same way, there was always a chance that she’d been seeing things that weren't there the whole time.

For a long time he was all she could think about, at least until the day her life fell apart once again and she was forced to face real life again.

One day she mustered the courage to fill her parents in on what had happened. She felt that the time had come and after all she couldn't just keep ignoring the problem forever, they were bound to find out and she wanted them to find out from her.

She sat them down at their tiny kitchen table and told them everything, how she had just recently found out she’d failed it but that she knew from the beginning and in fact she was already attending the class once more so she could retake the test once more at the end of next semester. 

She told them everything with the most calm and serene voice she could get out of herself, but she knew straight away that she was in big trouble. 

Big trouble meant emotional and sometimes physical damage when it came to her family, so when she felt like she had lost control over the situation, she fled her house, looking for a place to spend the night and for someone to treat her right. 

She knocked on Brian’s door at around 2 am, she knew he'd be scared to death to find her at his door in the middle of the night, but she felt like she didn't have a choice. She was strangely calm and collected considering the mess that had happened at home, but it was like the thought of seeing Brian and being around him gave her strength not to break down.

However, Brian wasn't the one she saw when the door opened.

Tiny hands pulled the door handle down and allowed Y/N to see some big curious brown eyes stare back at her in confusion and curiosity. 

Brian’s daughter was standing there in a pink onesie with unicorns all over, a stuffed animal tight into her left hand and fuzzy socks on her feet.

That is definitely not who Y/N was expecting and she didn't know how such a tiny human could have opened the door by herself, but she guessed she might have used some tool to reach the handle.

She wasn’t sure how to react and just stared back at the little girl for a while until Brian came running down the staircase and quickly scooped her in his arms.

“Emily, my God, how many times have I told you not to open the doo-”

He lost his train of thoughts the moment he identified who was knocking at their door at such an ungodly hour.

“Y/N?” The girl couldn't find it in herself to reply, somehow starstruck by the small curly haired human in Brian’s arms who was sucking on her thumb and holding onto her dad’s oversized shirt. Of course she remembered about his daughter, but seeing her in real life kind of confirmed that she was real, she existed and Brian was, in fact, a dad.

The thought hadn't hit her as much until then, apparently. 

“Are you okay? What’s wrong?” He went on since he couldn't get a reaction from her, then he pulled her inside so she could warm up and locked back the door behind them.

“Sorry about her, I.. uh, I think I forgot to lock the door before I went to bed earlier and she's at that stage when she’s just so curious that she would open any door and any drawer she can find.”

Y/N wasn't sure why he was apologizing when she should have been the one to do so, but she could feel him being nervous about the situation, his hands held on tight to his daughter’s small legs anxiously.

She slowly raised her hand to caress the little girl’s head who appreciatively leaned into her touch and smiled at her new found friend. Brian fondly watched the two interact, still surprised to see Y/N but happy nonetheless, plus she seemed fine with meeting Emily and although the timing wasn't perfect, he knew how rare it was for his daughter to be at ease around someone so quickly so he didn't feel like ruining the magic.

“Hello beautiful girl” Y/N said still ignoring the man standing in front of her in his pjs who at that point was way too intrigued by the two girls’ interaction to even remember what they were all standing there for.

“What’s your name sweetheart?” Not that she’d forgotten, but she wanted to make the little girl comfortable around her and gain her trust.

However, although Emily didn't seem to sky away from her in any way and didn't seem distressed, she didn't reply to the question and simply shifted her stare from Y/N to her dad and hid her head in the crook of his neck, probably due to how tired she was rather than the small interaction she’d just had.

“Y/N... this is Emily. Em, baby, say hi to this kind lady, come on!” Brian encouraged trying to get a few words out of his daughter but only receiving a small wave in return.

“Hello Emily, I’m Y/N. You look very cute tonight!” She had never been the best at interacting with children, and the near presence of Brian made her much more nervous and afraid to mess something up when he was watching.

Something about the uncanny resemblance between the two of them made Y/N feel almost out of place, like she was interrupting some family ritual and breaking the silence and comfort of their house, and she was about to turn back to leave the house when Brian spoke once more.

“I’ll take this little one to bed and I’ll be right back downstairs okay? We can talk for as long as you need to. Are you okay though?”

Y/N nodded back at him, biting down on her lower lip and holding onto her left forearm with her right hand and looking back at the child once more, trying to make as little noise as possible in order not to startle her.

Brian left for a while and Y/N was left alone in their living room, so she took a seat on a very comfy couch full of pillows and listened to the man she had grown to love and admire so much say goodnight to his baby girl in a silly voice and promising to check up on her later to make sure there were no monsters under her bed, and although it was just the two of them, in that moment that felt more like a family to her than anything she’d ever experienced in her house.

#Some Day One Day #Brian May #Brian May x reader #brian harold may #queen fandom #queen fic #queen x reader #queen imagines #borhap #bohemian rhapsody #fanfiction #fanfic #writer

[authorgirl1111]

Emperor’s Daughter Ch. 14

Chapter 1

Chapter 13

Callie’s first birthday comes, and Natalie comes back up. A little stuffed Apollo doll in her hands as she walks in and gives it to Callie. Callie smiles and starts giggling hugging the doll tightly in her hands. Silena hugs tightly to Johnny, who turns up and gives Callie a little rattle. That she immediately starts to shake as hard as she can. Silena gives her daughter a book on Greek mythologies. A children’s book with lots of pictures. Brenda gives her younger sister a kiss. “I lub you” She says. “I’ll take care of you” They have cake and ice cream and Brenda makes a mess all over her self. At the end of the party Johnny and Silena share a long heartfelt kiss. “I can’t wait to call you and the kids mine?” Silena smiles. --- 2 months later it’s Brenda’s Birthday. “Your kids have their birthday’s way to close together” Natalie complains when she walks through the door. “It feels I was just here!” Her belly is just starting to show she’s now in her third month. “Yeah sorry I’ll plan my births a little better next time” Silena says. “Hush Cass, you know what I meant” Natalie says with a shrug. “You know I love you.” “Auntie Natalie!” Brenda cries running up to give her daughter a hug. “You’re here!” “Yes, I am, and how old are you now princess?” “I’m Four!” Brenda says holding up four fingers. “Momma says I’ll be starting kindergarten in a year! I’m just in preschool now” She says. “Little Callie is just in daycare, she’s too little to go to preschool like me!” She says proudly. Brenda is wearing her nicest jeans with a green sweater. In her arms is the Tyr doll she’s had since she was two, it’s obvious it’s been through some rough times. There are patches all over it where Silena has had to sow it back together. “Do you want to show Natalie your doll?” Silena asks softly. “It’s the Norse god Tyr” She says. “Momma reads me stories about him sometimes, she says it’s im-important, that I know Norse Mi-myth-Mythology.” Natalie kneels and gives Brenda a big squeezing hug. “And what’s your favorite” “When Thor has to wear a dress, so the giant man can marry him” She says with a laugh. “It’s so funny.” Natalie nods and gives Brenda a kiss on her head. “Can you show me where Callie is?” Brenda takes Natalie’s hand and leads her to the other room. “She deserves to know her roots” She says to Johnny. “Who knows? It could help her one day.” “I know” Johnny says. “But those myths can be a bit bloody” “I know, I’m going for the most kid friendly versions I can. Telling them in the most kid-friendly way I can, I plan to do the same for Callie when she get’s older.” “What did you get Brenda this year?” Johnny asks. “A collection of figurines, that range from wizards to hunters, to rogues. “With all the play fighting she likes to do I thought it would be something she likes.” She smiles up at him. “You?” “A collection of toy vehicles.” The party goes on, Natalie gives Brenda a toy Sleipner, Odin’s mighty steed, that has eight legs. Brenda immediately puts Tyr on it and starts pretending, she uses the other figurines in a made-up story she came up with in her mind. Using the toy cars and planes and vehicles as carnage in her destructive path. Callie takes one of the toys and tries to put them in her mouth, but Selina rips the car out of Callie’s hand and gives her the rattle Johnny gave her two months before. “When’s the wedding?” “In ten months” “I should be fine” Natalie says. “I can find someone else” “Please, I’ve known you longer then anyone here, it has to be me, after all the crap you’ve been through, I want to be apart of the biggest night of your life.” “I think the birth of my two kids trumps that, besides travelling with a baby is difficult…” “I’ll have Fred with me” “Yeah speaking of Fred…” “I can do this Cassie, please have some faith in me?” “Ok, I do, I’m sorry” She says raising her hands in surrender. “I’m sorry.” “Yeah you better be” Natalie gives her a hug goodbye. “See you at the wedding.” “By!”   --- Planning a wedding hurts her head. Johnny is sitting on the floor with his own wooden sword pretending to have a sword fight with Brenda. While she looks through different venues for the wedding reception. “Can’t decide on a venue, I want to at least have it cut down to my final ten before I go to bed tonight” “How many people are we inviting.” “Natalie” She says. “Since she’s my maid of honor. I think she’s bringing Fredrick and Annabeth as her +2, apparently Fredrick’s been acting a bit morose.” She says with a roll of her eyes.   “Natalie is pregnant with the Norse demigod?” Johnny asks pretending to dodge Brenda’s attack. “Annabeth the Greek demigod?” “Yes” She says.  “Anyway that’s 3 technically four if Magnus is born before the wedding” “There are my parents” Johnny said lunging slowly his wooden sword hitting Brenda’s own sword. “That’s six, plus JD and his wife that’s 8” “My kids, that’s ten.” “Isn’t Brenda in the wedding, she’s the flower girl” “Yeah speaking of, are you going to have a ring bearer?” “I have a little nephew, I wanted to ask” “That’s 11 plus his parents that’s 13” “My grand parents that’s 15” “You’re friends from the Nome, sorry the entire Nome so that’s another 20, so… 35” “I have a few friends outside the Nome too, people I met in college, and people I met at work.” He says, and Brenda stabs him in the side. He groans and pretends to die to Brenda and her mother’s amusement.   Johnny works at as a DJ at the local bar, and, occasionally does gigs at local clubs with a few of his buddies in the House of Life. He plays acoustic guitar and sings in the band. It does not pay much, but it pays enough.   “Should have thought to make friends while I was in the orchestra, I could totally invite a few over.” She says with a sigh. “My side is going to look so empty” she says forlorn. Johnny jumps up and picks and Brenda who squeals in delight. “We’ll divide wedding differently so there are people on both sides” He says kissing her forehead. “Why did my family have to be a bunch of jerks?” “I’m not marrying your entire family, I’m marrying you and if your family couldn’t see the amazing woman you are then that’s their problem” “That one looks pretty” Johnny says picking out a venue. The room is cream colored and has a maximum of 100 people. “I have some friends from when I studied in Egypt, and I know Desjardin is going to be pissed if I don’t invite him. An invitation to Iskandar couldn’t hurt” She feels uneasy, while Johnny’s parents accepted her with open arms, (However hesitant they may have been at first” And the rest of Texas has accepted the fact that she has roman blood and two demigod kids she’s not entirely sure the rest of Egypt would be so accommodating. “Stop it, Iskandar is not as closed minded as you fear he is, Desjardin is not going to dare go against the chief lector and literally everyone else does not matter.” Johnny says kissing her on the for head. “Is mommy ok?” Brenda asks. She smiles at her daughter. “Yeah, daddy and I are just figuring things out for the wedding?” “Is that when Daddy will become my real daddy?” She says her eyes lighting up. Silena laughs and nods her head. “Yes, Brenda that’s exactly what that means.” --- The months pass, Silena agonizes over every choice. Where to honeymoon, if they should honeymoon, what to serve, where to host the actual wedding, what kind of wedding to have wedding. Suddenly the wedding is here, and she’s scared. Not that she’s making a mistake marrying Johnny but that something will go wrong. She’s nervous and anxious. “Ready?” Natalie asks. She’s in a Lilac dress. “Where’s your son?” She asks. The boy is now five months old. IT’s now June, Callie’s birthday is coming soon, she’ll be two. She thinks of how Callie has already started talking, can sit up, is already eating full foods. And Brenda is starting kindergarten soon. She remembers Johnny playing with her. She remembers Johnny making funny faces at Callie, making her laugh. She smiles. Yes. Marrying Johnny was right. She has no qualms about doing this. “He’s with Fredrick, Sitting with Annabeth in the front row.” “It was nice of Johnny to open a portal, so you could get here easily.” “Yes, it was,” Natalie acknowledges. “We really shouldn’t keep him waiting, forcing him to wait any longer to see the woman he loves looking lovely in that wide wedding dress.” The dress is white, her sleeves start off the shoulder. A string of pearls dangles from her neck. It belongs to Natalie. She’s wearing her bracelet that can transform into a shield. In her hair is her hair clip that can transform into a sword is fastened to her hair. Blue stones are glued to it. Her bouquet is filled with daisies, the blue lotus, roses, and lilies. She’s clutching them tightly and Natalie smiles and Silena turns and follows Natalie out the door. --- The wedding goes by in a blur. She spends the entire wedding eager for it to be over, so she can finally call Johnny her husband. They recite their vows. There the simple traditional vows that most people op to say. Silena is not as good with words as she is with music, and nothing she could say could beat the vows that have been there for several generations. She speaks calmly and surely giving her vow that she will love and cherish and love him for the rest of his life and Johnny is promising the same. She can feel her heart fluttering when Johnny takes her hand and slips the golden wedding band on her ring finger. “With this ring, I thee wed” He says softly. She places the wedding ring on his finger. “With this ring, I thee wed” She echoes him. Then the reverend announces. “I now pronounce you man and wife, you may now kiss the bride.” Johnny places a hand on her waist pulls her close and kisses her so deeply that she loses her breath for a moment. --- The reception afterwards is hectic. She stands outside in the hot sun receiving guests many whom she doesn’t know. Fredrick looks like a dear caught in headlights as he walks up with Annabeth. (Magnus Chase is in Natalie’s hands, under the shade of a tree.) Brenda is standing beside Selina shaking hands with everyone that comes by. Callie is already inside with her step-grandparents. Brenda wanted to stay with Johnny and Brenda since she’s a flower girl. But Callie was still a baby, and though she is a demigod she didn’t want her to be overheated so she asked Johnny’s parents to take Callie inside. “Brenda if he gets too hot, you tell me immediately ok?” She says as she shakes hands with an elderly man and a man with dark skin and black hair walked up to them. “Chief Lector Iskandar” Johnny says to the old man. “I’m so glad you could make it.” Iskandar is smiling. “There was no way I could miss a wedding such as this.” Iskandar says, his voice has a heavy Egyptian accent. Iskandar smiles at Selina. “I hope you are happy here” He says. “A girl with a burden as yours deserves the chance to have it shared.” “I would not wish my burdens on anyone Chief Lector” She says respectfully. “But I thank you.” “Have you met Michel Desjardins?” He asks motioning to the man beside him. Desjardin gaze is cold and uncaring. Selina can’t help but shrink under his gaze. Johnny holds her hand. Brenda clues in immediately and cuts in. “Stop making mommy scared” Brenda says, and she stomps hard on Desjardins foot. Desjardin gasps in pain and clasps his foot. “Brenda!” Selina cries picking Brenda up. “Say your sorry” “He was scaring you!” Brenda cries. “Never the less he did not deserve that, say your sorry” Brenda pouted. “I’m sorry” She forces out. “I want to go inside now” “Go” Natalie stands in. “It’s getting to hot, I’ll take her to her step-grandparents” Natalie says. “I’m not a baby” Brenda pouts she says stomping inside. “Nice child” Desjardin says sarcastically. “She seems to really care about her mother, it is a wonderful thing” Iskandar cuts in. “That should be acknowledged even if her show of her loyalty was a little to forward.” “She’s never done something like that before” Selina says. “Hmm” Desjardin says before he walks in with Iskandar beside him. --- “So, you’re Roman” Desjardins says. “A fact I hate more then you do.” She assures Desjardins. She’s not surprised he knows she hadn’t kept it a secret after she had told Johnny. She had even told Johnny to tell any one ‘who should be made aware.’ The entire Texan Nome new, as did Iskandar and Desjardin. But other then being made aware to the other Nomes that other mythologies are indeed real. Not much else was made aware of her background and her kids background. “Who already as two kids from two different mythologies, must be the Roman conquering blood in you.” “Get to the point” She says to him annoyed. “Betray the House of Life and you will answer to me.” “I betray the house of life, I’ll hand you my own sword.” She says. “Cassie!” Natalie calls running out to her. “Come on, what is the point of giving a speech to the bride and groom, if the bride isn’t there” She gives Desjardin a look. “You should sit too” “Thank you” She whispers once she’s out of Desjardins sight. “No worries” Natalie says. “Take a seat by your husband.” --- “So as most of you know, I am the brides best and only friend.” Natalie turned and stuck her tongue out at Selina, who returned the gesture. “I met her when she lived in Boston, already pregnant with little Brenda, she would stand out in rain and snow, playing her violin, making as much money as she could, trying to support herself. She endured all the glares and disgusted looks she got as her baby grew within her, and she never rose to the insults. She continued to play. Then after Brenda was born, I would take care of her, or my mom and dad would, ‘G-d bless their souls.” She says, Selina’s eyes started to tear up. “She tried to push me away, scared of what would happen if I got to close, so she told me her secret, told me that her father abused her, her first love was killed in front of her, her mother was killed, and still she found reason get up in the morning. I can still see it, she thinks she’s a coward for running away, but honestly to me… she’s the strongest woman I know.” Silena bit her lip. “Then she got a job as a violinist in an orchestra in New York, and met Callie’s father, and I thought, maybe she had nothing to worry about, maybe she’d finally be happy, she could stop worrying, she could be happy.” “I only wish I could beat the crap out of the guy who broke up with her over a fight, no scratch that, I wish I could beat the crap out of both the guys who broke her heart. But She did not beg, she did not cry, she let them go, and moved on.” “When she met Johnny, I could hardly hope that maybe she would find happiness with you, oh she had met other guys, that weren’t fathers of her children, but it seemed the second she mentioned that she had two kids by two different fathers they would find a reason to walk away. I found it a good sign that Johnny did not walk away, I found it even better when he treated Brenda with respect. He was understanding and kind, and he made Silena’s face light up brighter then the sun, she was the happiest I had ever seen when he asked her to marry him. He loved Brenda and Callie like his own children.” I love her kids, Brenda is feisty, and loyal, and a joy to be around. And I cannot wait to see the little spitfire that Callie grows into. They are all treasures and I am so happy that they get to have a father to help raise them.” Natalie sighs. “I hope the best for you two, after everything you’ve been through, Silena Cassie Julia Claudia Romano Maglieri,” Silena’s eyes widened at the use of all her previous names. “You deserve only the best.” Silena stood and gave Natalie the biggest hug she could. --- After that there was a quick speech from the Best man JD who gave a short quip over how Natalie’s was far better then his mainly because Johnny didn’t have a tragic backstory. But reaffirmed sweet things like Johnny was happiest he’s ever been, and they deserved to be together. It was cake, and dancing, Johnny danced with his mother and though Silena could not dance with her own father she decided to instead dance with her eldest daughter. Brenda was clumsy, but she had fun being spun around by her mother. After the parent-child dance Johnny and Silena danced together. “I love you, Lena” He whispered to her. “Forever and for always” Silena gave Johnny a long kiss, oblivious to all the people watching. “As I love you, Jonathan.” --- Brenda and Callie had been arranged to stay with their now official step-grandparents while Johnny and Silena went on their honeymoon. They went to Egypt and had phone seeing the sights, the pyramids, and he took her to see the special tour of the Hall of Ages, in the first nome. She watched in surprise as she saw her wedding play right in front of her. Iskandar let them sleep together in the nome, and she met some of the newest recruits to learning Egyptian magic. They spent a week in Egypt seeing the sights, before they headed off to Rome. To see Silena’s past. She saw the ruins of the palaces still standing, she saw the colosseum, she heard things about her father a former emperor that made her nearly cry. She saw everything Rome had to offer, and after those two weeks the two of them returned back home. --- A year later she gave birth to a beautiful baby girl. She was surrounded by Natalie and her husband, and her two perfect kids. It had taken a long time to get to where she was going, but she finally felt happy and safe. “Kamilah O'Hare” She named her baby with a kiss to the baby’s forehead. “Little Ilah.”   Perhaps not everyone in the community likes her, perhaps they are a little distrustful of her, but so long as her family is ok, and they are like. Silena Cassie Julia Claudia Romano Magileri can handle just about anything that stands in her way. For the first time in a long time, she’s not just the emperor’s daughter. She’s a mother, a wife, a friend, a violinist, she’s strong, she smart, she is so deeply in love and is loved in return. And she wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world. 

Epilogue

#the Kane Chronicles #Percy Jackson and the Olympians #Heroes of Olympus #trials of apollo #magnus chase and the gods of asgard #silena maglieri #Johnny O'hare #Michel Desjardins #iskandar #Brenda Romano #Callie Maglieri #magnus chase #annabeth chase #Fredrick Chase #natalie chase #julia claudia #cassie romano #Kamilah o'hare

[kookiehao]

[SEVENTEEN] OT13 - the thread that binds us (2/?) - 7300 words

Title: the thread that binds us Author: kookiehao (arashianelf on LJ and AO3) Pairings: OT13!friendship, hints of jicheol Genre: Fluff, fantasy, angst Rating: G Summary: A person's life can be deeply affected by tiny little things that occur far away from them; the butterfly effect, it's called. However, sometimes it's things that occur closer to home that can change a person's life forever.

For Choi Seungcheol, it begins with this: an old man comes to visit in a small town on the outskirts of Daegu.

Notes: If you follow this on AO3 as well, the one there gets updated a lot faster than the one over here! Just an FYI :)

one | two | three | four | five

Jihoon approaches the doorway slowly, eyeing the hinges carved into the wood on either side of the doorframe, hinting at how the fireplace had disappeared. Jihoon squats to look closer at the wooden flooring, but the lines of the panel that now covers the fireplace and mantel are well-camouflaged amongst the rough lines typical of wood flooring.

He stands again, now examining the door that has been hidden behind the fireplace this whole time. Ignoring the way his phone is buzzing, he tries the door handle, which opens easily for him. The door opens with a loud creak, and Jihoon makes a mental note to get some oil for the hinges.

He takes a deep breath, coughing a little at the dust, and nudges open the door. Upon entering, he feels along the wall for the light switch, and looks up at the staircase curling its way up that is illuminated by the lights at the top landing.

Retreating from the stairwell, he grabs a random thick book from one of the shelves and places it along the doorframe in case the door shuts on him. He isn’t taking any chances at locking himself in until he examines the door and how it works. First though, he plans to explore the area the winding staircase leads up to.

He turns on the flashlight on his phone, frowning down at it with annoyance as it buzzes non-stop. He turns on silent mode, and turns his attention back to the staircase. He takes slow steps up, worried for the structural integrity of the staircase, but the wood holds his weight with nary a sound.

Aiming the light around, Jihoon observes that the walls are still made of wood, much like the rest of the house. He takes the last few steps up onto the landing, where another door waits.

Again, this door opens smoothly, and Jihoon searches for the actual light switch. Flipping the lights on, he stops in the process of turning off the flashlight and stares at the state-of-the-art producing equipment across the room.

He absently turns off the flashlight, locking his phone and slipping it into his back pocket, approaching the equipment reverently. Other than the large desktop computer screens and accompanying monitor, there’s an electric keyboard along the wall, along with an acoustic guitar in its stand.

A thin layer of dust lies over everything, and Jihoon makes a mental note to bring in some cleaning supplies as soon as possible.

Jihoon is pretty sure the computer has the best digital audio workstation downloaded without having to turn it on. He eyes the audio interface lying innocently on the table next to the one with the desktop screen, and the large studio monitors placed at the corners of the room, both on the floor and on the ceiling.

There’s two microphone stands with good quality microphones and pop filters in this room. Jihoon walks over to the door next to the whole electronic set-up and opens it, sighing in bliss at the second soundproof door and what lays behind it as he turns on the light for the next room.

There are bass traps, acoustic panels, and sound diffusers randomly scattered and built into the walls of the recording studio, meant for ensuring the most high quality recordings in the room. Jihoon walks back out of the recording studio and opens one of the cupboards along the wall, and damn near cries as he sees unopened, brand-new boxes.

Unopened, brand-new boxes of one of the latest models of MIDI controllers, the monitor isolation pads he’s always wanted… This is Jihoon’s studio dream come true, and he bounces a little, eager to set everything up.

He’s pretty sure if he looked through the other cupboards he would find other things needed for producing and recording, but he stops, putting everything back to rights and switching off the lights.

He closes the door behind him, slowly walking back down the staircase and examining the door that he had left open. Next to the door frame is a lever that is currently down, which answers his question about how to open the door when it closes behind him.

Just to test it out, he nudges the book out of the way, taking a deep breath as the door clicks shut. He hears the rumble of the fireplace moving back into place on the other side of the door, watching as the lever moves back up with a sharp click. When all is quiet again, he pulls the lever, holding his breath.

The rumbling starts again, and when it stops Jihoon tests the door, sighing in relief when it opens. Finally leaving the stairwell, he closes the door behind him, book in hand, and turns to watch the fireplace emerge from the floor.

‘Well,’ Jihoon thinks wryly to himself, ‘I know where I’m living out of for the foreseeable future.’ He places the book from where he took it from, picking up the notepad and book still lying on the piano. Walking out silently, he switches the light off, door clicking shut quietly behind him as he pads his way back to his room.

The group chat, when Jihoon deigns to check it, has exploded in the wake of his announcement. He sighs, scrolling all the way down without bothering with backchat, lounging in bed until he feels tired enough to sleep.

To: three years is up!!

say moo: i’m not even going to bother with backchat

say moo: i was busy exploring the fucking secret room in the music room okay i didn’t have time to reply anything

say moo: anyway, there’s a state of the fucking art studio behind that secret door.

say moo: it’s my new home now.

size is irrelevant: a studio? behind a secret door found in the music room?

size is irrelevant: wow i’m so surprised

say moo: shut up you ass. no wonder you were tiny when you changed.

size is irrelevant: that’s irrelevant, hyung. i’m still like, a head taller than you normally.

say moo has changed his name to jihoon

jihoon: who the fuck keeps doing that.

im THE dawg: does that mean there are other secret rooms in the house?

i hate being last: i’ve always said that the house looks bigger on the outside than it does on the inside! secret rooms would actually explain a lot. now if one of you would actually listen to me when i say things.

I’M A CHICKEN: the maknae’s suffering: an excerpt

I’M A CHICKEN: wait it’s like super late why the frick is the maknae awake

I’M A CHICKEN: actually why are we all awake

hiss hiss mf: i’m almost done with filming soon, so i’ll be able to come down after that. in the meantime, try finding more rooms? there has to be more.

hiss hiss mf: channie, go to bed.

jihoon: yeah, i’m planning to do so. come asap please. this manor is fucking big.

i’m a horse and look like one: why not ask the others in the manor to help you?

i hate being last: yeah yeah i’m going now good night hyungs

jihoon: they’re hiding shit from me. and minki-hyung nearly ripped into me, so clearly they don’t trust me.

jihoon: i’m not asking anything from them until i absolutely have to.

I hate carrots: Smart idea. I’ll be able to make my way down soon as well. Give me a few weeks to settle my book.

I hate carrots: Good night, Channie.

goatlamb: got a few more weddings to cover, before i can come down. why do people like to get married immediately after the new year?

goatlamb: rest well, chan

jihoon: fuck knows why. just come down as soon as you can.

jihoon: i’m off to get more work done.

orange is the new black: i like how casually everyone just ignored jihoon’s questioning about who changed his name again.

i’m a horse and look like one: avoidance is the key to not getting killed, jisoo-hyung. as long as no one rats us out, we’re safe.

supposed to be tiny but not: someone called me? give me a moment to read backchat

hiss hiss mf: of course he chooses to appear now.

supposed to be tiny but not: what do you mean by that, moon junhwi?

hiss hiss mf: nothing, hyung.

supposed to be tiny but not has changed jihoon’s name to say moo

orange is the new black: you’re just courting death, hannie.

supposed to be tiny but not: nay, death’s courting our missing cat. i wouldn’t court jihoonie even if my life depended on it. besides, i have you, don’t i?

orange is the new black: okay, hannie. I’ll be home late today. i have a few patients coming in a few minutes.

supposed to be tiny but not: okay~ I’ll leave the food for you in the microwave!

goatlamb: ugh, domesticity

size is irrelevant: really? you’re saying that? you??? seo myungho you’re going to break seokmin’s heart.

i’m a horse and look like one: just mine?? gyu don’t lie your heart is broken too

size is irrelevant: my heart was broken from the beginning. I never expected anything going into this relationship. It just means he isn’t getting dinner tonight.

goatlamb: …

goatlamb: just because it’s gross doesn’t mean I don’t like it…

I’m a horse and look like one: you’re just saying that because you don’t want to go without mingyu’s food, aren’t you.

goatlamb: in my defense, it’s really good

I’m a horse and look like one: …true

size is irrelevant: you two shut up and get home already. the food is getting cold.

Jihoon grabs the music score notepad that started the whole thing, and flips to the first open page, inspiration having struck him.

The notes flow from his pen to the paper easily, and he hears the music playing in his mind as he scrambles to record down as much as he can before it slips from his fingers. Already, the exact notes are fading, and Jihoon hums a bar a few times to try and remember what came next.

He spends the next hour like this, bent over the notepad and trying to remember the music that had come to him all of a sudden. He throws his pen across the room, frustrated at the fleeting inspiration that strikes him at the oddest hours.

Sighing, he gets out of bed to pick up the pen and places both pen and pad on the table, switching off the lights, figuring that since his muse has once again left again, he might as well get some sleep.

“I’ll show you the way to your room first,” Jungsu says, even as the oak doors creak open. “I’m currently staying in the Cat bearer’s room, but once I’m gone that room will be yours. For now, you’ll be taking one of the guest rooms, next to Taehyung, the gardener that will be taking over the current one when it’s time.”

Seungcheol nods in understanding, walking up to the man and boy now standing on the porch. The boy observes his approach with cool expressive, intelligent eyes, and Seungcheol shrinks back a little.

Then the boy smiles, and his eyes crinkle up, giving Seungcheol the best smile he can muster. While the two older men greet each other, Seungcheol approaches the boy, who greets and introduces himself quickly.

“Hello! I’m Kim Namjoon, and I’ll be your butler for the future, I hope we can get along well,” he bows, and Seungcheol bows on instinct as well, returning the greeting. “I’m Choi Seungcheol, please take care of me!”

“Seungcheol-ah, I see Namjoon-ah has made your acquaintance. This is the current butler of the house, Jung Yunho,” Jungsu introduces the tall man next to him, and Seungcheol is struck by how good-looking he is.

He bows deeply, greeting him. “Nice to meet you, Yunho-ssi. My name is Choi Seungcheol, please take care of me.” Yunho laughs, ruffling Seungcheol’s hair. “You’re so polite! Maybe you’ll be a good influence on Taehyung. God knows that boy doesn’t have any respect for elders unless absolutely necessary.”

Seungcheol smiles shyly, ducking his head in embarrassment and thanks. Jungsu smiles as well, leading the way into the house. “Come on, I’ll start the tour with the entrance hall. Leave your shoes there,” Jungsu instructs, removing his own shoes and placing them in one of the shoe cupboards, holding it open for Seungcheol to do the same.

Behind them, Yunho and Namjoon bring in their bags for them, Seungcheol having reluctantly relinquished his to Namjoon as Jungsu led him past.

The entrance hall doesn’t look like much, apart from the table along a wall next to the shoe cupboards. It is this table that Jungsu leads Seungcheol to, where a large, old leather-bound book lies on the table top.

The table comes with a small mantel, where there are three rows of hooks carved from the wood. The first two rows of hooks are empty, but the third has keys hooked on them, with plain keychains. Jungsu removes a key with a cat keychain hanging from it from his pocket, hanging it on the first shelf.

“The other twelve hooks in the first two rows hold the keychains for the other zodiac bearers. They’re currently all out, so they’re empty,” Jungsu explains upon noticing Seungcheol’s curious glance. Seungcheol makes a soft sound of understanding, turning his attention to the book lying on the table top.

“This book is one of the more important ones in the manor. No one that isn’t supposed to can open it, and it is only ever on this table top for two occasions: when a new zodiac bearer arrives at the manor, and the first time that zodiac bearer changes,” Jungsu says, tapping the book cover, where the words ‘The Zodiac Register’ are embossed in gold.

Seungcheol is passed the book, and he opens it to the first page to find a table of names. Thirteen names, to be exact. The first column, titled ‘Names’, lists down the zodiac bearers’ names, the second the zodiac they represent, the third the date they first arrived at the manor.

The fourth takes up most of the page, titled ‘Description’. In each row, a detailed description of the animal they change into is given. Seungcheol makes a soft sound of amazement at the details, looking up at Jungsu with wide eyes.

The old man laughs before taking the book gently from the boy’s hands. He flips it to the middle, where an empty table lies, waiting to be filled in. “Go on then,” he then says, handing Seungcheol the book back and a pen he pulls out of his pocket, “fill in your name and zodiac.”

Seungcheol does as he’s told, filling in his name and the zodiac he represents in his best handwriting. He stops to stare at the row he’s half-filled in when he’s done, before passing the pen back to Jungsu, who keeps it. He’s about to reach out to flip to the previous pages when Jungsu speaks.

“Alright, you’ll be able to look through this book later when you’re free, all right? Let’s move on with the rest of the manor,” Jungsu leads him further into the manor, Yunho and Namjoon having moved along to put their bags in their respective rooms a while back.

“The only ones that can open it are zodiac bearers, isn’t it?” Seungcheol asks, and Jungsu nods, grinning down at him. “Smart child. Yes, only zodiac bearers can open that book. When there’s no need for it to be out, I tend to keep it in my room. It’s one of the safest places in the house, you see,” Jungsu explains, leading him down the hallway.

The hallway opens up to another hallway running perpendicularly, as well as a grand staircase leading upstairs. Jungsu tells him as they turn right, “This is what we call the Central Wing, and it’s where everything is. That staircase over there leads to the second floor, where we have a recreation room and other various rooms.”

Seungcheol’s head whips left and right as he tries to take in everything that he sees as they walk past. “The first floor of the Central Wing has the kitchen and the reception room, which really is a ballroom or occasional dining room. There are other, less important rooms here as well,” Jungsu lists.

“As you’ve probably noticed, the walls have platforms protruding out from them, and the ceiling beams have platforms as well. The ceiling has horizontal beams for cats to perch on and rest, and the platforms give them places to relax,” Jungsu points them out to Seungcheol, who is watching as a striped cat makes his meandering way up a series of platforms.

All around them are cats dogging their footsteps, occasionally getting distracted with the empty cardboard boxes and circles formed with string lying around. “We employ any and every tactic here to keep the cats occupied,” Jungsu relays to the younger drily.

Jungsu opens a door, which leads to yet another hallway, this time with a staircase smackdab in the middle. “This is the East Wing, where all the bedrooms are. First floor is the guest bedrooms, second is the Zodiac bearer bedrooms. There are thirteen on each floor, as you would expect. Currently, four of the rooms are occupied, now five with you,” Jungsu says, leading him to a door.

“For the guest bedrooms, there’s a whiteboard next to each of the doors, so you can write your name there so people know that the room is occupied,” Jungsu tells Seungcheol, bringing down the portable whiteboard and marker for him to write his name.

“Now, Taehyung stays next to you,” Jungsu points out the name on the whiteboard of the room next to his, messily decorated with whiteboard magnets and doodles, “he’s the gardener of your generation, so he’s probably in the woods right now.”

Next, Jungsu opens the door to Seungcheol’s new room, and enters. Seungcheol follows with some mild hesitance, emitting a soft noise of shock at the cosiness of it all. There’s a bed in one corner, and a closet in the other, on either side of the large windows framed by curtains.

There’s a light breeze blowing into the house through the open windows, and the soft blue curtains rustle in the wind. There’s a cat perched on the windowsill, enjoying a stray patch of sun, and opens an eye a slit when Seungcheol approaches.

His bag is at the foot of his bed, and he sits down on the bed, testing the mattress. Next to the closet is a desk for him to put whatever he wants, as well as a laptop that Jungsu picks up and hands to him. “Welcome to Zodiac Manor, Seungcheol-ah. This is your welcome gift from the staff here, as well as me.”

“I can’t accept this, harabeoji,” Seungcheol starts, but Jungsu waves him off. “It’s already been bought, they threw the receipt away too. You have zero chance of getting us to return it. Also, you’ll need it in the future. Trust me, kid. I know what I’m talking about.”

Seungcheol quietens, running his hands across the smooth surface. “Thank you for this, harabeoji,” he says after a few seconds, placing the laptop on the bed next to him. “It’s my pleasure, so no need to thank me,” is all Jungsu says.

“This door over here leads to your personal washroom. Each bedroom comes with their own washroom, so no one has to worry about fighting over who gets to use the bathroom first and the like,” Jungsu continues after a moment of silence, clearing his throat.

“If you need any supplies for the bathroom, just tell Yunho or one of the other staff, and we’ll get it for you when we go into town next. I’ll let you get settled in for a few days before we bring you into town to get you acquainted with the people living there,” Jungsu tells him, and Seungcheol nods gratefully.

“I’ll leave you to wash up now, that drive was long enough that I want to take a shower,” Jungsu says. “When you’re done washing up, just head up to my room via the staircase in the middle of this wing. The Cat zodiac bearer’s room is all the way at the end of the hallway.”

Seungcheol nods his understanding and Jungsu leaves the room, closing the door behind him. Seungcheol takes a deep breath when he’s finally alone, letting the situation sink into him. This is going to be his home for the foreseeable future, and these are the people he’s going to have to live with for the rest of his life.

It’s a daunting thought, but Seungcheol steels himself for it. He at least hopes he’ll be able to get along with everyone else.

The time passes quickly when Jihoon is able to settle into a routine. He wakes up in the mornings, feeling like death personified, and goes to the kitchen for breakfast, where he warms up his brain by deflecting probing questions asked by the others and staunchly not reacting to the thinly veiled barbs shot his way.

He exchanges polite conversation with everyone as much as he can, the Jimin mentioned the first night being Park Jimin, Taehyung’s best friend. He learns that along with Namjoon, Seokjin, Yoongi, and Jimin, Taehyung is part of a budding coven, which normally has ten people.

He’s pretty sure that Jonghyun, Minki, Aron, Minhyun and Dongho are part of some secret group as well, but doesn’t want to risk Minki’s wrath to ask until he has Jeonghan here to buffer as well as Dongho.

Speaking of Dongho, Jihoon has gotten into the habit of sending him snippets of audio, and the older does the same, exchanging advice and criticism about their work. It has helped him improve the standards of his tracks a lot, and Jihoon is pleased.

After breakfast, he holes himself up in the studio, closing the secret door behind him so no one knows where he is. He works in the studio until dinner, when his stomach drives him back to the kitchen after he forgets to eat lunch, as usual.

After dinner, he explores the manor, trying to find more secret rooms. So far, he’s been in the music room one, and he’s pretty sure that the recreation room has one as well. He knows that there should be some kind of sign telling him where the secret rooms are, but he hasn’t found it yet.

When he’s tired, he goes to any place with a high concentration of cats, playing with them to pass the time. Gongju and her mate come up to him often, meowing and pawing at him until he plays with them. The chocolate brown cat with white markings that Jihoon always saw around Seungcheol keeps his distance, and is usually perched on one of the platforms close by, observing Jihoon.

The days pass like that, and before he knows it, Jisoo is about to arrive.

To: three years is up!!

orange is the new black: jihoon, i’ll be heading down in a few days. jeonghan’s still busy closing a deal but he’s coming a few days after i am.

say moo: thank fuck

say moo: i need jeonghan-hyung here to buffer minki-hyung. i’m about to go insane.

I’M A CHICKEN: minki-hyung still isn’t happy, huh?

say moo: apparently he’s going to remain unhappy until we give him an adequate explanation, but i don’t know if we’re allowed to talk about that yet.

orange is the new black: …i think we’ll withhold that information for now, yeah? i don’t trust them fully yet. there’s new people too, so god knows what they can spread with that information if they have ill intentions.

say moo: alright. it’ll be good to finally have people on my side in the manor. i’ll inform them tonight about you guys arriving soon.

That night, Jihoon does as he said, informing the table at large that Jisoo and Jeonghan would be arriving within the next few days. Jonghyun and Minhyun exchange glances with each other, as does Taehyung and Namjoon, which does not go unnoticed by Jihoon, but he chooses to remain silent on the matter.

“Finally. I was wondering whether what you told us that first night was a lie. Good to see I’m wrong,” is all Minki says on the matter, and Jihoon is once again out of the kitchen as soon as he is able, hearing the kitchen break out into low whispers when he’s gone.

He briefly wonders if he should stay by the door to listen about what they’re talking about, but rejects the idea. One of the witches would probably sense him, or something. He’s pretty sure Jonghyun’s group is hiding some power as well.

From the past few days he’s been able to observe that whatever Namjoon’s growing coven knows, Jonghyun’s probably doesn’t, and vice versa. Everyone’s keeping secrets from each other because they don’t know what each other’s exact goals are apart from finding out happened to Seungcheol, and because they don’t know how much they can say.

However, in terms of interactions, Jihoon would have to say that the coven is maintaining a rather neutral stance, while Jonghyun, Minhyun and Minki are more standoffish towards him.

Still, the manor is filled with tension, and Jihoon doesn’t like it. He misses the times when Seungcheol was there, tying everyone together. He remembers letting Seungcheol bug him when he was trying to compose, or when he was trying to read a book in peace.

He thinks of Seungcheol’s bright eyes when he beams at someone, and the way the townspeople always greeted him with love whenever they wandered into town. He thinks about the quiet times spent together just lounging on the couch while the others made a mess of the recreation room.

He thinks about anything and everything that Seungcheol reminds him of, and in that moment, he is filled with the most intense longing and grief, all the more determined to find out what happened to Choi Seungcheol and give that man a piece of his mind for causing them to worry so much.

Shaking his head to free himself from his thoughts, he continues down the hallway and going up the grand staircase, walking to the recreation room, where he’s been concentrating his efforts for the past few days.

He enters the room, switching on the lights. He’s been combing through the room inch by inch, and has yet to find anything out of place or hidden. The recreation room is filled with bean bags and the most comfortable couches, along with every game system currently on the market.

Jihoon continues on to the shelves places between the windows, where rows of game CDs and board games and card games are lined, and continues what he’s been doing for the past few days. He removes the things on each shelf one by one, making sure there’s no protrusions from the wall.

As he does so, he grumbles to himself, “Why did I have to find that secret room? I have to lug a chair every-fucking-where now because I’m not tall enough to reach the fucking top shelf. I should wait until Mingyu comes and make him do the rest of the shelves.”

He’s moved onto a bookshelf that has books concerning tactics about different games (he saw a few Minecraft books that he’s keeping in mind to read for later) when the chair tilts after he climbs onto it. He stumbles and jumps off just as he’s about to fall back first.

Kneeling down onto the floor, and moving the chair away, he sighs when he notices a small circular panel on the floor. Seeing as just pushing that one switch didn’t do anything, he heaves the beanbags around the chair away.

Just as he’d thought, he spots three more small circular panels in the floor, forming a perfect square with the one panel pressed down by the chair. He carries the chair over, placing each leg over each panel.

Going over to the shelves, he removes a thick hardcover book and drops it onto the chair seat, smiling in satisfaction as the chair sinks into the floor and a loud click echoes around the room. The wall opposite the one with the television mounted on it shifts backwards and to the side, revealing a door.

Just to make sure, Jihoon goes over to the door leading to the Central Wing hallway and locks the door, before returning to the now revealed hidden door. He removes the book from the chair just to see what happens, watching as the chair slowly rises and the wall move back into place.

Nodding to himself, he places the book back on the chair and waits for the door to appear again, before he opens it and enters. Just like the one in the music room, there is a staircase winding up, and the stairwell is dark and dusty.

He turns on the light and makes his way up the staircase, observing that just like the one leading to the studio, the wood of the staircase is in very good condition, despite all the dust. Opening the door at the top of the staircase, Jihoon notices that just like the studio, this one has a second door for soundproofing as well, and opens it and turns on the lights as well.

He then just stands there, gaping at the miniature theatre that greets him, with a large wall-to-wall viewing screen on the opposite wall. The seats are couches, the same ones as those in the recreation room downstairs, and when Jihoon looks up, there’s a projector mounted on the ceiling to project the films on the screen.

There’s dust everywhere, like he’d expected, but a fucking movie theatre? This was nowhere near whatever he was expecting to find in a hidden room. “Fuck, at this rate I’m going to need to carry a portable vacuum cleaner,” Jihoon says to himself, after sneezing thrice in a row.

He leaves the room, turning off all the lights behind him. When he’s out on the staircase landing, he pulls out his phone, typing as he walks down.

To: three years is up!!

say moo: I found a movie theatre this time.

i’m a horse and look like one: say what?

say moo: a fucking movie theatre

i love bananas: they had a movie theatre at home and we didn’t know???

say moo: yes

I’M A CHICKEN: oh my god

im THE dawg: what happened why is kwannie yelling in my ear

im THE dawg: oh what the hell are you serious

orange is the new black: language, choi hansol. but yes, the sentiment is the same for me.

I’M A CHICKEN: if you find a karaoke room i don’t care where i am or what im doing, im coming down immediately

He snorts, exiting the secret room after switching off the lights, removing the book from the chair and putting everything back to rights. He unlocks the door and exits the recreation room entirely, making his way back to his room, scrolling through social media as he walks.

After Seungcheol is done washing up, he exits the room, climbing up the staircase slowly and finding himself in a hallway similar to the one on the lower floor. Only, instead of just whiteboards hung on the walls on the right of each door, there are wooden nameplates nailed into the doors, with an animal intricately engraved on each one.

He walks down the hallway, darting left and right to look at the different nameplates and whiteboards. At the end of the hallway is a door with a cat nameplate, as well as a whiteboard that has Jungsu’s name on it with angel wings as a backdrop.

He knocks on the door with trepidation, and after a moment the door opens. “Come in!” Jungsu calls, and Seungcheol peeks his head around the door. Jungsu smiles when he sees him, closing a leather-bound book and placing it on the table.

“What’s that?” Seungcheol asks curiously. “Oh, this?” Jungsu looks down at the journal. “It’s a journal, where I write my thoughts in whenever I have time,” Jungsu explains. “Each generation of Cat bearers tend to keep journals because sometimes it’s good to write things down,” Jungsu says, gesturing to the rows of shelves that are along a wall.

“Because a lot of them are old, they fall apart easily under direct sunlight, so I keep them in these cupboards with no glass, so they don’t get damaged. I also have a dehumidifier in each cupboard to make sure they don’t become mouldy,” Jungsu tells him.

“It’s weird, though. I only have the journals from the Cat bearer five generations back to now. I can’t seem to locate the journals prior to that generation’s. Anyway, here, these are the ones I’ve filled in in the years I’ve lived here,” Jungsu says, opening one cupboard, showing him the row of leather-bound books slotted in neatly next to each other.

“Woah,” Seungcheol gasps, looking to Jungsu for permission before taking one. He flips through it quickly before putting it back, feeling as if he’s intruding on Jungsu’s privacy. Jungsu closes the cupboard after he makes sure everything is in place.

“Come on, I’ll show you the rest of the manor. The East wing is simple enough, all of the rooms are similar to the ones you’ve seen,” Jungsu leads the way out of the room, and Seungcheol dutifully follows, trailing the old man.

They head out into the hallway and through the door that leads to the Central Wing, and Jungsu points out the various rooms to him as they pass. “There’s the music room, and that one is the recreation room. The one opposite the music room is an office to do work in, and the one opposite the recreation room is an art room.”

“The other rooms, you can discover on your own,” Jungsu tells him. “I have to show you some other stuff later, too.” They walk to the other end of the Central Wing’s main hallway, where a door is closed.

“Welcome to my pride and joy, the West Wing of Zodiac Manor,” Jungsu says proudly, opening the door to reveal the largest library Seungcheol has ever seen inside a house. Well, granted, it was a manor, but still.

“Woah.” Seungcheol walks into the West Wing, eyes darting in all directions as he beholds the sheer number of shelves in the wing. Instead of rooms, the entirety of the wing is a library, with three floors. In between shelves, there are numerous reading nooks along the wall, framed by large windows to let in the sunlight.

There is a staircase leading up to the third floor and another down to the first floor in front of the door, and another across the wing. There is also one in the middle of the wing, and each row of shelves has a mobile ladder.

“The books are all arranged depending on whether they’re fiction or non-fiction, then by author. The non-fiction books are arranged according to topic as well,” Jungsu tells him, smiling at the younger’s reaction.

“We also have a section focusing on all the lore anyone has ever collected regarding the zodiacs,” Jungsu informs him in a more serious tone, catching Seungcheol’s attention. “You mean…” Seungcheol trails off, to which Jungsu nods, understanding the unsaid question.

“Yes. This is the largest collection of books regarding the curse. Whatever anyone has ever published, be it in a research paper or in a book, fiction or non-fiction, we have it. No matter how ridiculous the things they write are, we have it. After all, even the most nonsensical things can have kernels of truth in them.”

Jungsu points out the section to him, all the way at the other end of the wing. Seungcheol itches to go and check out what books the library has to offer, but refrains from it for now. He has all the time in the world to explore the West Wing.

“That’s all for the inside of the house, now I’ll give you a tour of the outside,” Jungsu says, leading Seungcheol back out of the library and down the grand staircase. Seungcheol remains quiet, a thought having occurred to him.

“Harabeoji, what would have happened if I’d refused the bracelet? If I’d refused taking on the curse as the Cat zodiac bearer?” Seungcheol asks, and Jungsu halts in his tracks. “…you would have changed anyway when the time came. Once you’re chosen, there’s no stopping the curse. All I would have had to do was wait for you to change, inform your parents, then take you away.”

Seungcheol stares at Jungsu in shock. The old man turns to him with a sorrowful expression. “I wouldn’t have gotten to say goodbye?” Seungcheol asks softly. Jungsu nods, and elaborates.

“The best time to take someone who doesn’t want to accept the curse is when they’re changed, because it’s harder for them to run away when they’re not used to their new form. And once they’re within the barrier, they can’t escape.”

“That- that’s just cruel!” Seungcheol exclaims, to which Jungsu sighs and says, “Well, a lot of the world doesn’t care if they’re cruel to Cat zodiac bearers or not. It’s partly for their own protection as well. Cat zodiac bearers aren’t treated well outside of this town, Seungcheol-ah. You’ve heard of the reputation we carry.”

Seungcheol falters, recognising what Jungsu is saying to be true. He’d heard the townspeople talk about harabeoji when they’d recognised the bracelet he wore. With no argument, Seungcheol falls silent again, and Jungsu continues walking, Seungcheol following quietly.

“This is the kitchen,” Jungsu tells him softly as they enter, and Seungcheol looks up from his thoughts, observing the happenings of the kitchen. “That man manning the stoves over there is the chef for my generation, Kim Jaejoong. His protégé, the one rolling the dough at the counters, is Park Jisung.”

Upon hearing their names, the two look up from whatever they were in the process of doing. “Jungsu-hyung! Giving the tour, I see,” Jaejoong says, wiping his hands clean and turning the fire on the stove low. Jisung does the same, patting his hands clean of flour and washing them.

Seungcheol bows low, greeting the two. “My name is Choi Seungcheol, please take care of me!” Jaejoong laughs and replies, “No need to stand on formality, kid. We’re all family around here.” Meanwhile, Jisung bows back as well, introducing himself. “I’m Park Jisung! Let’s get along well!” Seungcheol nods to both replies, smiling.

“Alright, alright, I’m sure the two of you still have a lot to do. I’ll continue on with the tour and let the two of you get back to your work, eh?” Jungsu says, to which the chef and chef-in-training nod in understanding, going back to their work.

Jungsu leads Seungcheol across the kitchen to the back door, which connects to the gardens and beyond that, the woods behind the manor. “This is the gardens of the manor, where we have all kinds of things growing here, from herbs used in cooking, to those used in potions, as well as flowers and fruits.

“The current gardener is Kim Junsu, and his protégé is Kim Taehyung. They’re probably somewhere in this maze right now, I’ll introduce you to them later during dinner,” Jungsu tells him, showing him the hedge-maze that was Taehyung’s idea, who is, apparently, a witch that specializes in plants and potions. They walk through the well-worn paths of the gardens to the iron-wrought gate built in the brick wall.

“Remember when I mentioned the lands surrounding the manor in the car? That treeline over there is the beginning of the woods,” Jungsu says as he opens the gate, “The manor lands extend all the way until the barrier, which is the town boundary. Of course, the woods extend past that, but we only own the land up until the barrier.”

They stand at the treeline, enjoying the breeze and the sounds of nature. A cat emerges from deep within the woods, coming up to them for scratches. Seungcheol obliges gladly, squatting down to stroke down its back and between its ears.

“That about concludes the tour, I should think. There are rooms I didn’t tell you much about, because those are mainly for witches and practitioners to use, but there’s two more things I have to tell you. There are many hidden rooms in the manor, some of which I probably haven’t found yet.

If you find them, you get to do whatever you want to them. Contractors and builders are always sworn to secrecy via confidentiality agreements as well as the best lawyers we can find. Of course, you can try building whatever you want by yourself as well.” Jungsu leans against a tree, looking at the view the manor presents against the backdrop of the setting sun.

“Lastly, I have to show you how to open the Cat’s bedroom door. I opened the door for you earlier, but this is a trick all Cat zodiac bearers have to learn. No one else knows how to open our door, so keep it that way, alright?” Jungsu tells him, moving back in the direction of the manor.

Giving the cat one last scratch, Seungcheol stands up, following Jungsu back into the manor and to the door of the Cat zodiac bearer’s room. “Why does the Cat zodiac bearer’s bedroom door require so much effort to open it?”

Jungsu shrugs at the question. “I think one of the previous generations must have been very paranoid. It’s been like this for three generations at least.” Seungcheol frowns, dissatisfied with that explanation.

They come to a halt in front of the bedroom door in question, and Jungsu changes the topic, focusing on teaching Seungcheol how to open the door. “You can’t open this door in the usual fashion,” Jungsu shows him, pushing the door handle like they do for other doors. It doesn’t move, indicating the door is clearly locked.

“What you need to do is to push this panel here, which has this symbol etched into it,” Jungsu points out a panel on the door itself, which has a triangle-shaped triskelion when Seungcheol looks closer at the symbol about half the size of the nail of his pinky.

“Then nudge the one on the doorframe over here with your elbow, and push the door handle upwards,” Jungsu continues, showing Seungcheol each step in detail. With a click, the door opens.

“If you’re inside the room, there’s a button on the floor you can step on to the left of the door. To exit, just step on that button and open the door normally.” Jungsu points to the button on the floor, almost indistinguishable from the regular wood flooring if not for its odd shape, then closes the door, the locks engaging once again.

“Now you try.”

10 August 2010, Tuesday

Apparently all Cat zodiac bearers start a journal, so this is me starting one.

I’ve met almost all of the people living in the manor permanently, I think. There’s the previous generation, Park Jungsu, Jung Yunho, Kim Jaejoong, Kim Junsu, Park Yoochun and Shim Changmin, and then there’s my generation, which has me, Kim Namjoon, Park Jisung, Kim Taehyung, Hwang Minhyun and Min Yoongi.

If there’s regularly so many people living here, an outhouse may be a good idea.

Maybe a treehouse?

[chapter two end]

three

#seventeen #svtcreations #17writers #17writer-net #svt fics #ot13 friendship #fanfic #chaptered

[national-anathemas-blog]

12/8/17; paris (again)

HE SAID IM DONE BABE IM OUT OF THE SCENE

And he had been. I remember he swore everything off the second he thought we actually stood a chance.

I remember our first real date like yesterday. Part of me doesn't know why I remember it so well -- I'd tried so hard to conceal every detail of it from everyone I knew, at first, considering I was ashamed of liking a mediocre-looking college boy I'd met in person just once who'd taken my picture. I remember the way I told stumbling stories punctuated with random Japanese phrases in a last-ditch effort to impress him, and how when I asked him about his major he clicked the pen he always carried in his pocket and sketched out a nuclear core on a napkin. I remember the burst of anxiety in my chest, nagging, tugging, the million thoughts running through my head and how he said he could feel me fidgeting whenever our knees touched under the table.

The waitress got so tired of bussing Diet Coke refills back and forth from the fountain to the table, as I kept sucking them down, in part to calm my nervousness and in part because of the exhaustion I suffered, so she started just cracking open cans at the table and pouring them in empty glasses ahead of time. Saved all three of us time, and her the shared awkwardness of me seeing his face for myself.

If I wasn't born Mormon, I'd be dependent on something. Whether it was sex, or drugs, or alcohol, I know by now it's so much better to feel numb as opposed to feeling everything and nothing at the same time. And he was dependent -- on all three, if we were being exact, but laughed when I asked what he was doing that night. "There's a party at home," referring with a wave of his pale hand to the booming metropolis of 200> from which he'd hailed, less in his whole town than my graduating class, "but I don't think I'll go. It's not my place anymore."

BUT HE WAS PICKING UP

And now I'm sure he does.

People feel either very past-tense or present-tense to me. And somehow, after months of not speaking to one another and me barely recognizing him the last time I saw him at my local coffee shop, he remains present-tense.

Maybe it's because your first love is the one that lasts until you discover your true love. Maybe it's because I keep trying to make peace with my pieces, and leaving cookies at the doorsteps of people who have egregiously wronged me, but am too scared to even text him to see how he's been doing. Whether or not his mom still forces him to sit through documentaries about polygamy, and if he ever figured out how to play that one song on the guitar (probably not since the express purpose in playing it was to play it in my presence). I want to know, out of curiosity and strangely not from a place of envy, of new sparks in his life. I want to know if he's genuinely better. I can't tell if I feel love for him past-tense or present-tense, but I know now that it's a different type of love. The love I feel for him is the same fondness and affection I look at my friends with, or videos documenting my previous dance career, or writing projects eventually scrapped, but it's still there. I think I may love him, in some form, forever. It won't be the same experimental, sensual, clumsy first-love type-love I once shared with him, however, I left a piece of me with him when he won me over last spring.

I know he's returned to his old habits and I honestly couldn't blame him for it either way. It was just another thing that separated us, another star in the galaxies between us. Even though Mormonville Idaho reeled at my filthy language and short shorts, it did nothing about the fact that he hotboxed his car in both empty and full parking lots or got drunk in the comfort of his own home or brought home lots of girls all of the time. You know what they say about guys who play the guitar -- fast fingers. And I think he left a piece of himself with me, too. The piece of him that never really learned how to cope with what was going on around him, or maybe the piece of him that made ill-advised choices at high school overnight functions, considering I would never consider one-night stands at a debate tournament appealing before I'd met him, and now I try to convince freshman girls sleeping in the bathtub wouldn't be THAT bad and DO NOT TELL COACH ANYTHING UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES.

All of this has me thinking about pieces, and the way that feelings evolve, and the idea that emotions change but what was once there still lives on somewhere.

Rebounds aren't as fun. Boys my age kiss with either too much tongue or too much agressiveness or too much in general. On the other hand, I am too much in general, and boys are turned off by the plain truth that theyd be obligated to love me through it all. Guess what? So am I. Imagine living with a mind constantly looking for fire escape routes. Try living in a body that wants to die. I'm bored by the idea that I'll never be loved because he proved it to me, that it's possible, however I don't think now is the proper time for me to experience that. There are things I must go through completely on my own, of my own volition, because my Lord knows I would devote myself to someone I loved in a heartbeat even if it meant giving up myself.

ID LOVE TO GO TO PARIS AGAIN

Sometimes, I drive the stretch of Old Town I used to when I'd drive home from his place just to try to soak in what little memory I have of this time in my life. I've found it doesn't elicit the same religious excitement within me, rather, it just makes me question where I'm going next. What my next Paris will be. When I'll look up from doing whatever, whether it's getting my picture taken or eating a stack of chocolate-caramel pancakes or doing my math homework, and notice someone staring at me. Where is the next geographical location I'll add to the proverbial map of my heart? When will I stick a pin in an infinite layout of streetlights and brick businesses and remember it as somewhere, or someone, significant?

Because these roads really do mean nothing. The Paris isn't even really the Paris, if that all makes sense. These places and people are all just perceptions of who I want them to be, as is my ex and the intrusive thoughts about him that somehow grow clearer as the year wanes on.

It's not like I want him back. I quit seeing his sweet apparition in my dreams in September, for starters, and this ongoing phase of Singledom has made me realize I have so much love to give that wasn't ever exclusively his. It's never been about wanting him back.

It's always been about this idea and this town and Parises. This is psychobabble and I recognize it as such as I type it out but I can't stop now. Pieces of me are everywhere here and that's why I need to leave. In this town and everyone I meet only see a reflection of my own face, and it terrifies me, because like I said things will die out but the flame continues to slowly burn.

I'm not making sense. I need to go to bed. I guess I get why he drinks now. Maybe one day he'll understand why I write.